Jorg Nysgerrig
Member
- Joined
- Apr 13, 2006
- Messages
- 7,822
This has now happened to me twice in the last two or so years.
My brother left his guns with my dad when he went to Iraq. He said one of them had a problem and needed to go back to S&W. Well, Dad and I decided to take it out to the range to find out what the problem so we could tell them what to fix. We thought it would be a nice gesture to have it fixed when he got back. Loaded up a magazine, racked the slide, noticed it wouldn't go into battery. Tried a different round, same problem. Field stripped it, looked down the barrel and there was the problem. Squib. Apparently in the rush to go to Iraq, my brother neglected to pass along this information to anyone and we didn't bother to ask. As they say, complacency kills. Or at least might blow up your gun.
Today after Thanksgiving dinner, I end up with my aunt's rather old AR-15 to clean and lube since it had been sitting in a closet for several years. PWA lower with a serial number in the 0028xx range, unidentified A1 style upper with CAR length hand guards. She had suggested I take it out and shoot it before cleaning it up because it was "really fun to shoot." When I got home, I popped decided to take it down quickly and see how what kind of damage had occured while sitting in a foam case for years with little to no oil on it. Fortunately, I didn't see anything on the outside of the gun, the lower receiver, the bolt carrier, or the bolt. I shined a light down the bore, only to notice something was in there. I couldn't quite make out what it was, since it didn't seem to have the smooth bottom of a bullet. Grabbing a trusty one piece cleaning rod, I placed the butt of the rifle between my feet, dropped the rod down the muzzle and gave it a nice smack. Out pops what appears to be an unburned tracer round.
I called my aunt and asked her when was the last time she shot the rifle. She didn't recall, but said it had been years. I asked if she had any problems with it the last time. She said no. I asked if she knew there was a bullet stuck in the barrel. She had no idea.
The moral of the story: Always check the damn barrel.
A quick lesson in, "Woah, this can happen to me!" from Jorg. Happy Thanksgiving.
My brother left his guns with my dad when he went to Iraq. He said one of them had a problem and needed to go back to S&W. Well, Dad and I decided to take it out to the range to find out what the problem so we could tell them what to fix. We thought it would be a nice gesture to have it fixed when he got back. Loaded up a magazine, racked the slide, noticed it wouldn't go into battery. Tried a different round, same problem. Field stripped it, looked down the barrel and there was the problem. Squib. Apparently in the rush to go to Iraq, my brother neglected to pass along this information to anyone and we didn't bother to ask. As they say, complacency kills. Or at least might blow up your gun.
Today after Thanksgiving dinner, I end up with my aunt's rather old AR-15 to clean and lube since it had been sitting in a closet for several years. PWA lower with a serial number in the 0028xx range, unidentified A1 style upper with CAR length hand guards. She had suggested I take it out and shoot it before cleaning it up because it was "really fun to shoot." When I got home, I popped decided to take it down quickly and see how what kind of damage had occured while sitting in a foam case for years with little to no oil on it. Fortunately, I didn't see anything on the outside of the gun, the lower receiver, the bolt carrier, or the bolt. I shined a light down the bore, only to notice something was in there. I couldn't quite make out what it was, since it didn't seem to have the smooth bottom of a bullet. Grabbing a trusty one piece cleaning rod, I placed the butt of the rifle between my feet, dropped the rod down the muzzle and gave it a nice smack. Out pops what appears to be an unburned tracer round.
I called my aunt and asked her when was the last time she shot the rifle. She didn't recall, but said it had been years. I asked if she had any problems with it the last time. She said no. I asked if she knew there was a bullet stuck in the barrel. She had no idea.
The moral of the story: Always check the damn barrel.
A quick lesson in, "Woah, this can happen to me!" from Jorg. Happy Thanksgiving.