Things I learned today while firing my 1943 Mosin Nagant for the first time

Today was the day I set aside for me and my Mosin Nagant. After hours of painstakingly cleaning and restoring this WWII firearm, I took it out to the rifle range for the first time. As an advocate of lifelong-learning, I can report that the rifle range at Eagle, Wisconsin, became a learning lab for life lessons in short order.

To wit:

1. Take your time, 'cause you're going to need it -- Rapid fire on a bolt-action Mosin Nagant approaches the speed of muzzle-loading musketry. With my AR-15, I can empty a 30-round clip in a matter of seconds. With the balky action of the MG, I average two rounds a minute.

2. Bring heavy tackle in your range box -- The bolt action is renowned for actually tightening up as you shoot, instead of the other way 'round. By the end of my range time, despite pounding several boxes of ammo downrange, I was having to pound on the bolt lever with my fist to cycle the next round. (I now have a lever-shaped bruise on my right fist). Next time, I'm going to use my truck's bumper jack.

3. Moose? Mule? Forget it! -- The Mosin Nagant is legendary for having a recoil like a (insert your angry wildlife of choice here.) Not even close. Even though I was prepared for it, the recoil physically knocked me back at the firing bench every time. Mule? Feh! Moose? Hah! This rifle kicks like a pissed-off pickup truck, and I loved every minute of it!

4. Perspective plays funny tricks on MG shooters -- I actually had the good fortune to stand inside Turret #2 on the Battleship Wisconsin when she fired her 16-inch, 66-foot-long cannons in a ferocious broadside barrage. I recall the dumpster-sized breach of the gun looking like a runaway semi-truck as the massive recoil sent it hurtling towards me. Today, with the steel bolt of the Mosin Nagant only inches from my eye, it had much the same look and feel (and sound levels)

5. Always check your pockets first -- When firing this rifle, always, ALWAYS go through your shirt pockets first. I didn't and now am sporting a bruise on my right shoulder in the shape of a Sensa all-aluminum ballpoint pen. A glance at the photo above will show me cradling, not only the Mosin Nagant, but also a wounded shoulder. After a full day at the range, your chiropractor is your new best friend.

6. The Mosin Nagant aims high ... real high -- The rear sights are calibrated out to 1,000 meters, and legend has it the bullet will actually travel that far and hit what you aim at. But the ungodly amount of power this round has cause it to aim somewhat high on a mere 100-yard rifle range. Thus this rifle would make a handy anti-aircraft gun -- if you could just figure out a way to get the aircraft to hold still long enough for you to cycle the bolt lever.

7. Zombies? Schmombies! -- Commonly held wisdom says that, when the zombie apocalypse comes, and the walking dead are shouldering the living aside for the best seats on the bus, we (the armed living, that is) should aim for their heads to put them down. Hah! All I have to do with my Mosin Nagant is aim for the center of a reasonably-sized group of zombies, and the bullet's shockwave will knock 'em all down like ninepins.

8. What's in a name(s)? -- My ancient rifle-shaped relic generated much good-natured talk out on the rifle range today. It's amazing how creative people can become when trying to pronounce a name that's half-Russian, half-Belgian. "MOH-sin naa-GANT," or "MOY-zeen no-GAUNT," or (perhaps attempting to attach some sort of Hebrew heritage to my rifle,) "MOH-ses NEW-gun" were just a few of the attempts. For the last time, it's pronounced "

MOH-zeen NAH-gone," or even, "This-goddam-sawed-off-cross-between-a-howitzer-and-a-railroad-tie."

9. Maybe the safest place to be is right in front of the targets -- After watching my fellow shooters, I reasoned that Wisconsin's nine-day Deer Hunting Season, which opens in a few days, is a great time to stay out of the woods. In short order, I witnessed: a nearby shooter staring down the barrel of his (loaded) rifle to see if there was a bullet in the chamber; a fellow shooter startled by his rifle's recoil, get knocked back and fire a quick second round through the roof of the range; and a third shooter cursing and swearing at his rifle (which was chambered in Winchester .30-30,) because it refused to chamber a round. A quick examination showed that he was attempting to load a .30-06 shell into the chamber. "Well, THAT wouldn't have ended well," muttered the range safety officer, walking away and shaking his head.

I quite agree.

"Peace is that brief glorious moment in history when everybody stands around reloading".

Veterans Day is here again, and a glance on the 'Net or in your local newspaper will reveal that most people think: (A) Memorial Day is a time to plan a picnic or barbecue, and (B) Veterans Day is a time for a sale at your local retail outlet.

I guess I'm sort of OK with that. Sort of.

To my fellow citizens, speaking as someone who is a veteran and who also happens to work in a retail outlet, I say, "Thank you for your ecomonic stimulus by shopping."

But I hasten to remind you also, take a look at your parents and grandparents and -- especially if they fought in WWII, Korea or Vietnam -- take a moment and thank them for their service to a country which all-too-often breaks its promises to military people. Then ask your parents and grandparents to share some military stories with you. (Don't expect too many combat stories. That's something not often shared.)

But there's a lot to talk about with them.

I hear that WWII veterans are leaving us at the rate of about 1,000-per-day, taking their experiences and their wisdom from our ken. Make SURE you and your families assemble an oral history of their experiences before it's all gone for good.

And to my fellow veterans, I would add: "It's OK that they don't always remember us. We got what we wanted...a free country."

Musings on a new rifle rack

Let me be clear ... there was absolutely NO blank spot on my office wall crying out for more clutter. Shifting things around on the wall to make room was tantamount to a sheriff's eviction of some poor squatter (on my wall, mind you, not necessarily in my office) in order to make room for the new rack. (That's RIFLE rack! Get your minds out of the gutter!)

But the wall wanted a rifle rack. Everytime I glanced over at my Geoff Hunt Napoleonic Navy prints, with row upon row of US Navy coffee mugs displayed below them, I saw in my mind five or six stacked, gleaming, metal-wood-and-plastic beauties in their place.

Mind you, there was nothing wrong with the rifles' previous storage. Kathy and I built an "armory" when we first moved in here, that would provide all the firearms a safe, dry storage area, standing (locked!) in their transport cases.

Gun owners will understand, tho. Fully HALF the joy of owning a quality firearm is just GAZING at the darned thing -- polished and lethal-looking -- in a place of pride where you and the rest of the world can see it.

Even though I've read the Aubrey/Maturin series of novels of the British Navy in the Napoleonic era 15 or 16 times, I never would look at the Hunt prints in my office and imagine myself aboard a square-rigged ship of the line. (For a modern sailor like myself, it always seems like WAAAY too much work, and some of the wormiest, lousiest food in the world.)

But like the fine pieces of machinery they are, fine rifles displayed on a wall (you should pardon the expression) "fire" the imagination.

Looking at the AR-15, I can almost feel the semi-anemic recoil, and hear the high-pitched "Clack" it makes as the bolt comes flying back. Looking at the M-14, I can almost feel the smooth, oiled action and hear the roar as it pounds rounds downrange. I can sense the weight of the darned thing, and the natural way it shoulders and fits itself to my hands. Looking WAAAY up at the 1943 Mosin/Nagant on the top rack, my shoulder twinges at the thought of firing the beast in the spring ... and I can't wait to feel the ache in my shoulder from a full day at the range with it. (Provided some historian can unearth some ammo for it.) Looking at the thorougly modern Steyr's blunt muzzle, I am reminded that the Assault Weapons Ban has finally expired, and that it now would be legal to put a genuine flash hider of muzzle brake on this rifle. (The current blank barrel just looks so ... abrupt. I mean, this rifle wants a HAT!)

So one of the Geoff Hunt prints came down, and a homemade rack went up on the wall, perched right over my red rolling tool cabinet/camera storage unit.

Some pounding and cursing later, the rifles now adorn my office wall: Mosin/Nagant M91/30; Springfield Armory M-1A (the civilian version of the veteran M-14); DPMS AR-15 carbine; Steyr USR rifle; and the Fabrique Nationale PS-90.

Looking at the rifles now, I have discovered that (RATS!) some rifles just don't sit well with others.

The top two, all fine oak, mahoghany and blued steel, are just classic and timeless. Holding them, one can almost smell smoke from campfires and battlefields around the world.

But the other three look like something from Star Wars: all swept back fiberglass and scoped steel. Perched under the older models, they almost look WRONG!

(Sigh)

Well, they're just going to have to learn from their diversity, 'cause there's way too much clutter on my office walls to fit another rifle rack. (Although, maybe the Hunt prints all want to go into storage awhile. Hmmmmm)

Murphy's Laws of Combat

Young Mr. Murphy was a practical man... one's of the world's foremost pragmatists. He was the first to codify the difference between what military people are told ... and what really awaits them in the world.

It's kind of the military version of "The Biggest Lies in the World," (The check is in the mail,) and(Yes, of COURSE I'll respect you in the morning...)

I've been compiling Mr. Murphy's real-world laws of combat and here they are:

1. Friendly fire - isn't.

2. Suppressive fires – won’t.

3. Recoilles rifles – aren’t.

4. Try to look unimportant; the enemy may be low on ammo.

5. Don't look conspicuous; it draws fire

6. Don’t draw fire; it irritates everyone around you.

7. You are not Superman; Marines and fighter pilots take note.

7. A sucking chest wound is Nature's way of telling you to slow down.

8. If it's stupid but it works, it isn't stupid.

9. If at first you don't succeed, call in an airstrike.

10. If you are forward of your position, your artillery will fall short.

11. Never share a foxhole with anyone braver than yourself.

12. Never go to bed with anyone crazier than yourself.

13. Never forget that your weapon was made by the lowest bidder.

14. If your attack is going well, you're walking into an enemy ambush.

15. The enemy diversion you're ignoring is their main attack.

16. The enemy always attacks on two occasions: when they're ready. & when you're not.

17. No OPLAN ever survives initial contact with the enemy.

18. There is no such thing as a perfect plan.

19. Five-second fuses always burn down in three seconds.

20. There is no such thing as an atheist in a foxhole.

21. A retreating enemy is probably just falling back and regrouping.

21. The important things are always simple; the simple are always hard.

22. The easy way is always mined.

23. Teamwork is essential; it gives the enemy other people to shoot at.

24. If you are short of everything but the enemy, you are in the combat zone.

25. When you have secured the area, make sure the enemy knows it too.

26. Incoming fire has the right of way.

27. No combat-ready unit has ever passed inspection.

28. No inspection-ready unit has ever passed combat.

29. If the enemy is within range, so are you.

30. The only thing more accurate than incoming enemy fire is incoming friendly fire.

31. Things which must be shipped together as a set, aren't.

32. Things that must work together, can't be carried to the field that way.

33. Radios will fail as soon as you need fire support.

34. Radar tends to fail at night and in bad weather, and especially during both.

35. Anything you do can get you killed, including doing nothing.

36. Make it too tough for the enemy to get in, and you can’t get out.

37. Tracers work both ways.

38. If you take more than your fair share of objectives, you will get more than your fair share of objectives to take.

39. When both sides are convinced they're about to lose, they're both right.

40. Professional soldiers are predictable; but the world is full of dangerous amateurs.

41. Military Intelligence is a contradiction.

42. Fortify your front; you'll get your rear shot up.

43. Weather ain't neutral.

44. If you can't remember, your Claymores are probably pointed towards you.

45. Air defense motto: shoot 'em down; sort 'em out on the ground.

46. 'Flies high, it dies; low and slow, it'll go.

47. The Cavalry doesn't always come to the rescue.

48. Napalm is an area support weapon.

49. Mines are equal-opportunity weapons.

50. B-52s and battleships are the ultimate close support weapons.

51. Sniper's motto: reach out and touch someone.

52. Killing for peace is like screwing for virginity.

53. The one item you need is always in short supply.

54. Interchangeable parts aren't.

55. It's not the bullet with your name on it; it's the one addressed "to whom it may concern" you've got to think about.

56. When in doubt, empty your magazine.

57. The side with the simplest uniforms wins.

58. Combat will occur on the ground between two adjoining maps.

59. No matter what the supply specialist tells you, you will NOT receive it when you get in-country!

60. Murphy was a grunt.

If you've ever owned an AK-47, an AR-15 or a Mosin/Nagant, you'll understand

They say that after awhile, dogs and dog owners begin to look alike. I believe that you can extend that dictum to firearms owners. Not that we begin to look like our firearms, mind you, but that we begin to have shared experiences with other owners/sufferers of the same weaponry.

For instance, most of us who own a semi-automatic AK know it's legendary for being so loosely constructed it rattles when you pick it up. By the same token, all of us who own an AR-15 (the civilian equivalent of the M-16) know it's so tightly constructed it comes with its own toothbrush to keep dirt and grit from fouling it. (True!) And those of us who own a Mosin/Nagant M1930 (mine has Soviet markings and was issued in 1943) can't believe soldiers actually had to MARCH while carrying this behemoth!!!

I found this list of other common firearms characteristics on the Internet, and reblog it here.

A Comparison of the AK-47, AR-15 and Mosin/Nagant M1930:

AK – It works though you have never cleaned it, ever.
AR – You have $9-per-ounce special non-detergent synthetic Teflon-infused cleaner
MG – It was last cleaned in Berlin in 1945

AK – You are able to hit the broad side of a barn from the inside
AR – You are able to hit the broad side of a barn from 600 meters
MG – You can hit the farm from two counties away

AR – Cheap magazines are fun to buy
AR – Cheap magazines melt
MG – What’s a magazine?

AK – Your safety can be heard as you click it off from 300 meters away
AR – You can silently flip off the safety with your finger on the trigger
MG – What’s a safety?

AK – Your rifle comes with a cheap nylon sling
AR – Your rifle comes with a 9-point stealth tactical suspension system
MG – Your rifle has dog collars (It really does!)

AK – Your bayonet makes a good wire cutter
AR – Your bayonet is actually a pretty good steak knife
MG – Your bayonet is longer than your leg

AK – You can put a .30” hole through 12” of oak
AR – You can put one hole in a paper target with 30 rounds at 100 meters
MG – You can knock down everyone else’s target with the shock wave of your bullet’s passage

AK – When out of ammo, your rifle will substitute as a club
AR – When out of ammo, your rifle will substitute as a wiffle ball bat
MG – When out of ammo, your rifle will make a supreme lance, tent pole, oar, pike or firewood

AK – Recoil is manageable, even fun
AR – What’s recoil?
MG – Recoil is used to reset your shoulder after it was dislocated by the previous shot

AK – Your sight adjustment goes to 10, and you’ve never bothered moving it
AR – Your sight adjustment is incremented in fractions of a minute of angle
MG – Your sight adjustment goes out to 12 miles, and you’ve actually tried it

AK – Your rifle can be used by any two-bit nation’s illiterate conscripts to fight elite forces everywhere
AR – Your rifle is used by elite forces everywhere to fight two-bit nations’ illiterate conscripts
MG – Your rifle has fought against itself, and won every time

AK – Your rifle won some revolutions
AR – Your rifle drove Saddam out of Kuwait
MG – Your rifle won a pole vault event

AK – You paid $350
AR – You paid $900
MG – You paid $89.95 (I actually did!)

AK – You buy cheap ammo by the case
AR – You lovingly reload precision crafted rounds, one-by-one
MG – You dug your ammo out of a farmer’s field in the Ukraine, and it works just fine

AK – You can intimidate your foe when you fix bayonets
AR – Your foes laugh themselves to death when you fix bayonet
MG – You can bayonet your foe on the other side of the river without leaving your foxhole

AK – Service life, 60 years
AR – Service life, 40 years
MG – Service life, 100 years and counting

AK – It’s easier to buy a new rifle when you want to change cartridge sizes
AR – You can change cartridge sizes with the push of two pins and a new upper receiver
MG – You would never risk ridicule by suggesting there IS any other cartridge but 7.62mm x 54r

AK – You can repair your rifle with a hammer and a swift kick
AR – You can repair your rifle by taking it to a certified gunsmith (It’s under warranty!)
MG – You either take it to a blacksmith, or buy a new one

AK – You consider it a badge of honor when the rifle handguards burst into flames
AR – You consider it a badge of honor when you shoot a sub-MOA 5-shot group
MG – You consider it a badge of honor when you cycle five rounds without using a 2x4 as a lever

AK – After a long day at the range, you relax by watching “Red Dawn”
AR – After a long day at the range, you relax by watching “Black Hawk Down”
MG – After a long day at the range, you relax with a visit to the chiropractor

AK – You can accessorize your rifle with a muzzle brake or a new stock
AR – You can accessorize your rifle with stuff that is 8 times more expensive than the rifle
MG – Your rifle’s main accessory is a small tin can with a funny lid, buried under a building in Kiev

AK – Your rifle’s finish is varnish and paint
AR – Your rifle’s finish is Teflon and high-tech polymers
MG – Your rifle’s finish is low-grade shellac, cosmoline and some woman named Olga’s toenail polish

AK – Your wife tolerates your signed photo of Mikhail Kalashnikov
AR – Your wife tolerates your signed photo of Eugene Stoner
MG – You’re not sure there WERE cameras around to photograph Sergei Mosin

AK – Late at night, you have the urge to hold your rifle over your head and shout “Wolverines!”
AR – Late at night, you have the urge to clear your house, from room-to-room
MG – Late at night, you have the urge to dig a fighting trench in the front yard and sleep in it.

Holding history-unearthing a firearm artifact

As it came out of its box, it had all the grace and beauty of a railroad tie.

My 1943 Soviet-era Mosin Nagant M1930 rifle was covered in 67 years worth of cosmoline and crud. The laquered finish of the stock was cracked and darkened from age (and more cosmoline), like those ancient painted icons you see in old Eastern Orthodox churches. When I first beheld it in its box, it had all the polish of a burnt meatloaf ... and a dirty one at that. (Hey, what did I expect for a whopping $89.95 cash money?) The first time I touched it, my fingers stuck to the stock. (ewww)

But I nevertheless was holding my breath when I finally took it out of the box. In my hands was history. I held a historic artifact, much as an archaeologist might find in some dusty Middle Eastern dig site.

(OK ... that was a little over the top. Few Middle Eastern archaeologists ever unearthed a Mosin Nagant firearm ... or ANYTHING more advanced than a Bronze Age spear point... but you catch my drift.) Somewhere under the grime was a thing of lethal beauty. Like an archaeologist, I was going to have to be patient and use the firearms equivalent of a camel's hair brush to whisk away the decades of disuse and muck.

But I was frankly stumped. There wasn't a clean spot on the thing. How in the hell do you clean something that has been immersed in sticky axle grease and grime for more than half a century?

A few days research on the Internet showed I had several options:
1. Move to Texas, and hang the rifle in the sun for a few days. (Cosmoline melts at a mere 135 degrees and the Southwestern sun easily can heat things up that much. However, since I don't speak Texan, this was not my preferred option.)
2. Take everything apart and put it in the oven to bake at the lowest setting. (Since most chat rooms caution that this makes the whole house stink of petroleum, this also didn't make the cut.)
3. Take everything apart, and run it through the dishwasher. (Again, the Internet chat rooms caution that the melted cosmoline tends to run down household pipes only for about five feet before congealing again, this ALSO wasn't a great option.)
4. Take everything apart, and place all the parts in a galvanized garbage can. Into the can, place several work lights, which will heat everything up and melt the cosmoline. (My condo is already small, and I'm supposed to find somewhere to place a galvanized garbage can ... and start heating it up???? Fail!)

On the fifth day of searching the net, I found one mention of a guy who borrowed his wife's clothes steamer, and steamed the cosmoline and gunk out. I began searching Kathy's closets and storage for a clothes steamer. But my darling wife had other plans. She went to a charity rummage sale and bought me a used shop steam gun for $2 (cash money). I was HAPPY!!! I sat down outside and, armed with a hammer, a screwdriver and a pocket knife, disassembled my still-gunky rifle. I set to work with the steamer.

Twenty minutes later a rifle began appearing beneath the layers of yuck and grime.

Directing the steam stream onto the grease-soaked stock, the cosmoline yellowed, melted and dropped off in huge globs into the aluminum pan below. Steaming the bolt soon rewarded me with a gleaming, tool-steel bolt whose armorer's bow-and-arrow markings shone afresh.

I chanced to glance down the bore of the barrel. I winced and wished I hadn't. Where normally one expects to find the ever-graceful spiral grooves glinting in the light of reflected sun, this rifle bore was solid black. (Gulp!)

I got hardcore. I stuck the steam nozzle into the breach, pulled the trigger and let fly. Huge black globs of slime dripped from the muzzle, along with wisps of steam. Soon the globs disappeared, and the rifle barrel was blowing steam like Vesuvius just about to erupt.

An hour later, it was done. My Soviet beauty shone in the sunlight, a thing reborn.

All reassembled, it was as tall as I am. The pike bayonet made it as tall as most tent poles. You could pole vault with this thing. But it's friggin' gorgeous.

The armorer's marks show it was made in 1943 at the Ishvesk arsenal, and proof tested for accuracy. (Something I intend upon doing myself as soon as I can unearth some 7.62mm x 54r ammo for it.)

Maybe some archaeologist will unearth some at his dig site.

Zen in the art of Firearms Maintenance

Beautiful, warm Fall day. I move outside to become one with the universe, one with my gorgeous, beautiful,(fouled, problematic, pissing-me-off)Springfield Armory M-1A rifle. Since I've owned it, I've never managed to field strip it further than removing the barrel and trigger group.
This is the day! A beautiful day. This is the day my rifle-cleaning-karma changes, I'm sure.
I sit in the sun. I am warmed by the rays of the sun and bask in the glow of the cosmic muffin. I listen to the hum of bees. I find my center. I am one with the world, with this beautiful rifle. Ommmmmmm.
I lift out the trigger group. Ommmmmmmm.
I lift out the barrel and receiver group. Ommmmmmm.
I am one with the universe. Nothing can vex me. Nothing can stop me. The universe will unfold as it should and the operating rod will lift out when I pull it back to the appropriate notch.
Ommmmmmmmmm.
[Ahem] I say again my last, "The universe will unfold as it should and the operating rod will lift out when I pull it back to the appropriate notch."
Umm ... are you listening universe? I HAVE PULLED THE OPERATING ROD BACK TO THE NOTCH(shouting at the universe now, causing some neighbors to wonder what's going on behind my front yard fence)
Shit.
Oh. Umm. Ommmmmmmm.
[Heavy sigh]
I give up again, and decide to simply run a bore brush down the barrel, and swab the chamber as best I can.
Having made that decision, I find my Zen again ... Ommmmmmm
No I haven't! Goddam, piss-me-off rifle!
Should have stuck to archery