When
it comes to rifles, most men are predictably conservative. Tell me which gun someone first learned to
shoot well, and I'll tell you what he considers the finest rifle ever made.
Take
that guy who has shot 70-pound white tail deer in the hill country of Texas
with his Daddy's old .30-30: he's going to be hard to convince that he needs a
rifle with a little more authority when he crosses the border into New Mexico
in search of Rocky Mountain elk. He will
never even consider replacing that antique lever action.
Interestingly,
this rule works the same way for military rifles.
In
the late 1930's, the Marine Corps started issuing a new combat rifle, the M1
Garand. In hindsight, there is now fairly universal
agreement that this was the finest rifle of the Second World War, but at the
time, the Marines hated it. About
the nicest name the Jarheads had for the rifle (and certainly the only one I
can put in this blog) was "the Mickey Mouse rifle."
The
Marines had been using the Springfield Rifle since 1903 and had used it in the
First World War, the Philippines, and Nicaragua. It worked, they trusted it, and they knew
exactly how to use it. The Marines--more
than any of the other services--consider themselves riflemen, and they
treasured the '03 Springfield, and refused to consider a replacement.
Guadalcanal
changed their minds. The Mickey Mouse
rifle did a great job--it was accurate, it was reliable, and it could fire
eight times as fast as you could pull the trigger, so it didn't take long for
the Marines to fall in love again: with
a new, treasured rifle.
An
even more extreme example can be seen a decade before the Civil War. This was a period when firearms were
starting to change dramatically and there was pressure for the US Army to
modernize. A cavalry unit stationed at
Fort Stanton, New Mexico was issued Sharp's Rifles to evaluate.
The
Sharp's was a breech-loading rifle that could be easily loaded and fired
accurately while mounted on horseback.
These cavalrymen had been using the Model 1841 carbine. Not only was the musket clumsy and so
inaccurate that they couldn't hit the side of a barn unless they were inside
it, but the muzzleloader was almost impossible to reload on horseback. (You can imagine the difficulties of trying
to use a musket's ramrod while on a moving horse!)
It’s
easy to understand the difference this new rifle made to the soldiers. They loved the Sharp's Rifles, and when the
testing period was over, enthusiastically encouraged the military's adoption of
the rifle for all mounted troops.
When
this endorsement reached a general higher up in the chain of a command, he
rejected the new rifle, claiming that the new firearm was "a
breech-loading toy." This general knew
that the M1841--a gun he had used during the war in Mexico--was the better firearm and
wouldn't even consider a new firearm, so the cavalry never got the better
rifle.
In
1863, President Abraham Lincoln had heard of a new "super
rifle". Not only could it
accurately fire seven rounds without reloading, but was easy to operate and
maintain in the field. While most
muskets and rifles of this period used paper cartridges that were extremely
sensitive to even the slightest moisture, this rifle used metallic cartridges
impervious to moisture. This weapon
could even be used reliably in a driving rain!
With
paper cartridges, even the lightest rain forced soldiers to fight with
bayonets, knives, or even their hands.
At the Civil War Battle of Spotsylvania Courthouse, the two armies
fought for 18 hours in a heavy rain that made gunpowder all but useless. The fighting was the worst at the Bloody
Angle, where the men fought until the muddy earthworks had become so slippery
with blood that the men could hardly stand.
Lincoln
had heard of the new rifle and wanted to test it for himself. Now, these days, the idea of a head of state
personally firing a military firearm seems ludicrous. (Hell, I still can’t believe that President
Obama shoots skeet!)
In
Lincoln’s time, however, it was actually fairly common. Honest Abe was fairly besieged by
inventors--each promising that his newfangled gizmo would win the way by the
end of the year.
So
many of these crackpot inventors wanted to demonstrate some form of
bullet-proof armor that Lincoln finally established a new rule: anyone wishing to demonstrate body armor had
to wear it, himself, while Lincoln personally tested it by firing
a rifle at the inventor. This rule
considerably thinned the herd.
So,
in August of 1863, it wasn’t all that surprising when Lincoln met Christopher
Spencer on a small hill close to the partially constructed Washington
Monument. Aiming at a target 40 yards
away, Lincoln fired and hit the target seven times in just a few seconds. Impressed, Lincoln wanted the new lever action
rifle for all of his troops.
This
was a sound decision. In time, the
Spencer Rifle was the most sought after rifle in the Union Army. Besides being a superb combat weapon, it had
a little known extra advantage: if
captured by the Confederates, the weapon became all but useless. The southern states were suffering a copper
shortage so severe that the moonshine stills of Kentucky and Tennessee
temporarily vanished. When Southerners
give up Bourbon, you know there wasn't enough copper to manufacture ammunition
for the Spencer, either.
After
the war, Major General James Wilson wrote: “There is no doubt that the Spencer
carbine is the best fire-arm yet put into the hands of the soldier, both for
economy of ammunition and maximum effect, physical and moral. Our best officers estimate that one man armed
with [is] the equivalent to three with any other arm.”
Today,
some historians have argued that if the Spencer Rifle had been issued to Union
troops, the Civil War might have been concluded two years earlier. So, why wasn't it used?
Brigadier
General James Wolfe Ripley, the Army’s Chief of Ordnance, refused to purchase
breech loading rifles. His arguments
included the fact that the North had large supplies of older muzzle loaders in
warehouses that could be used and that rapid firing rifles would encourage the
soldiers to waste ammunition. His
arguments delayed the large scale purchase of better weapons for years.
By
the end of the war, the North had purchased only 12,472 Spencer rifles. This is a pitifully small number when you
consider that 2,896,537 men were mustered into the Union army.
After
the war, The Spencer Repeating Rifle Company was sold, eventually being bought
by the Winchester Repeating Arms Company which still manufactures lever action
rifles.
And
Christopher Spencer? He went on to make
quite a few other things. The first
successful pump shotgun, a steam powered horseless carriage, a sewing machine,
and the first automated machine to manufacture metal screws. By the time he died in 1922, he held 42
patents, and despite being 88, was taking flying lessons.
And
what happened to General James Wolfe Ripley?
Who cares?
Innovaters tend to make place-holders uncomfortable. During the Civil War, for instance, General McClellan and his fellow military bureaucrats believed their job was to preserve the Union Army. Mr. Lincoln's goal was rather different. He believed he'd been elected to preserve the Union. Lincoln grew so frustrated with McClellan's refusal to risk the Army of the Potomac that he sent McClellan a remarkably snarky cable. Here's the text:
ReplyDeleteMy Dear McClellan:
If you are not using the army, I should like to borrow it for a short while.
Yours respectfully,
Abraham Lincoln
They don't make presidents like that anymore. Possibly, Reagan, but not one after that.