I have been a silent witness
to all of America's finest hours.
But my finest hour comes
when I am torn into strips and used as bandages
for my wounded comrades on the battlefield,
When I fly at half-mast to honor my soldiers,
Or when I lie in the trembling arms
of a grieving mother
at the graveside of her fallen son.
I'm like her, pretty mechanically inclined (okay, maybe I'm not really as pretty as her...) I haven't found a gun yet that I can't detail strip and put back together. Something I like to do is tear things down to their very smallest pieces and see how everything works as soon as I possibly can.
How many have I actually done though... well over 50 different makes and/or models I'm sure. Could be way more, I never felt the need to keep count.
the only one that i have ever really needed a manual to field strip was the mk19 grenade launcher. since the geniuses that sent em to my unit neglected to send the needed manuals it took me 5 hours to figure it out...
"Gun control: The theory that a woman found dead in an alley, raped and strangled with her panty hose, is somehow morally superior to a woman explaining to police how her attacker got that fatal bullet wound." L. Neil Smith
The problem with being stupid is you cannot simply decide to stop doing dumb things...