Dirt: Rifle

M-1 Garand

18

Men complained as bitterly about them [the introduction of cannon and hand gun in 15th Century] as today we do about napalm; not simply because they were inhumane in their effects but because they degraded war, putting as they did the noble man-at-arms at the mercy of the vile and base born. 

Michael Howard, War in European History

Killing a man with a rifle is nothing like killing a quail with a shotgun. For one thing, the seeing is different. After some practice, the butt of the shotgun goes to the shoulder with a smooth motion and the cheek rests against the wood of the stock. The eye looks down the barrel and sees the small metal bead on the end of the barrel. The eye also looks for the target and the shotgun swings with the head and eye. The eye is looking for a fluttering shadow against the sky, a shadow that is moving away. The bead and the barrel of the shotgun trace the path of the bird and the pull of the trigger comes without thought. The moment is full of light and has a relaxed feel to it. It happens standing in the open with feet apart, it happens standing astride the land.

A rifle is nothing like a shotgun. The eye and the body take to it differently. Instead of a small metal bead on the end of the barrel, a rifle has a thin metal blade at the end, and, back near the stock, a flat metal circle with a hole in it, a peep sight. The rifle comes to the shoulder the same, and the cheek rests against the stock, but the eye looks through the peep hole, which is fuzzy and indistinct. The eye focuses on the blade of the sight and the infantryman then tries to put the top of that blade on the target. The target is never very clear. The eye simply cannot focus on the peep hole, the sight, and the target at the same time. The image is always in motion. The target may be moving. The rifle may be moving. The infantryman rests his elbows on anything to help him keep the rifle steady, but even his heartbeat can move the sight off the target. He is almost never standing up. He is instead hiding from the target — crouched behind a rock or tree, laying down on the ground, or looking from inside a foxhole. Truth be told, he almost never really sees his target. He sees shadows moving against shadows. He sees the flashes of his target’s rifle shooting back at him. He sees shapes in the wind.

It doesn’t look the same and it doesn’t sound the same. When walking through a field on an Arkansas morning the only sounds are the instructions to the dog, the thrumming flurry of a covey of quail rising into the air, the quick booms of the shotguns. A rifle makes a sharper cracking sound, a flat tenor among the basses. A man is killed amid the clattering sounds of many rifles firing many times, the urgent electronic sounds of voices over radios, the crumping explosion of artillery shells, people shouting and giving orders, smoke and flashing lights. More often than not there is no careful steadying of the rifle. More often than not the rifle is just pointed in a direction and the trigger is pulled again and again until the rifle stops firing and there is a spasmed rush to reload. Sometimes there are machine guns, grenades from grenade launchers or thrown by hand, artillery being fired from far away, bombs and rockets falling from the air. And men do not move quickly across the ground. In fact I never really saw well the men I shot at, they were all dark shapes in dark places. The sounds eventually die away and an odd silence emerges. Then the infantryman discovers if men have been killed.

Nevertheless, there is a kinship between that little .410 and the weapons infantrymen carry. The .410 was simplicity. It was essentially two pieces: a tube of steel bored out to a diameter of .41 inches and a wooden stock for my shoulder. A hammer, firing pin, and trigger mechanism were attached to the breech. With a cartridge loaded, the two pieces locked together to make a weapon. Every single-barreled and double-barreled shotgun (and a few rifles) in the world are the same.

Most rifles are more complex mechanisms. The kinship is this: the whole purpose of a rifle or shotgun is to contain an explosion that in turn forces a projectile out of a barrel. Also, they look alike, sort of, and the ammunition for them can be carried.

The difference, ultimately, is in intent, in purpose. The inside of a shotgun’s barrel is smooth and the weapon fires clusters of pellets. The purpose of the weapon is served by the hunt for food. The inside of a rifle’s barrel has small, twisting grooves that spin the single projectile. This increases the range and accuracy of the weapon. The purpose of the weapon is served by killing other men. Of course, some rifles may be used for the hunt and some shotguns may be used for war. They are, after all, just tools. A knife can be used to butter bread or slice a throat. The knife doesn’t care.

M-1 Disassembled