These events took place in 1985, in MMG, in one northern province of DRA. The subunits of the PF, the moto-manguns in those years were in constant combat readiness or in constant hostilities - I don’t know what to call it when the base of the mongroup is under constant shelling from rifle weaponsand sometimes from heavy machine guns and mortars, in any case, we had this. Therefore, we did not have lockable weapons rooms. And since the mongroup could at any moment throw a “K to the battle”, the weapons and ammunition were always attached to the fighters. I, for example, have an automatic machine gun, a BK, a bullet-proof vest and other sapper personal belongings hung on nails on the wall above the bed. That is, a fighter walking along a mongroup with a gun in sneakers, shorts and panama didn’t cause any questions. Any dangerous, stupid games with weapons and ammunition no one was up to. If such attempts were made, they were harshly suppressed by the fighters themselves, the game would forever discourage indulgence. Apparently, therefore, there were not a single wound in the mongroup of wounds related to the careless handling of weapons and ammunition!
So. There was one fun in the mongroup. She was called shooting "bulking" cartridges. The dump cartridge was made quite simply: - the bullet was carefully removed from the cartridge case, usually the front sight of the automaton or the muzzle brake compensator was used for this, about half or 2 / 3 powder was poured, then the cartridge was ready. He was needed for silent shooting. The sound of a shot with such a cartridge is approximately the same as that of a small-caliber rifle, and perhaps even quieter. And if you still shoot in the direction of the minefields, then in the monogroup the shot is not audible at all. It was with this that the fighters were amused during the service of the protection of the mongroup, they shot at the banks, birds, gophers, jackals.
On that day, I and my friend and fellow countryman Yuri, served in one of the remote posts of the mongroup. It was an early summer morning. Nature was just beginning to wake up. I really wanted to eat! We would soon have to change from the service, but before breakfast it was another four hours. Therefore, the Yurets decided, after the change, to cook breakfast in person, and not from the hardened stew, but the roast of gophers! And if the Yurets decided something, then it is useless to dissuade him. Yes, and gophers have already woken up and swarming right there beside. Yurets and decided to shoot a couple of AKS-74 (caliber 5,45х39mm). Dumped the cartridge, drove it into the chamber of the machine, crawled onto the trench parapet, cured game and ... PSSSYK. This dog meant that the bullet was stuck in the barrel. This happened all the time, because it is not always to the eye to determine the dose of gunpowder. So Yurets poured too much powder, so the bullet did not have enough kinetic energy to leave the barrel. Generally, the bullet in the barrel is not a problem, and it is simply treated, depending on the closer to which edge of the barrel the bullet is stuck, it is knocked back into the chamber, or through the muzzle and all the cases. So Yurets did.
He discharged the gun, took off the ramrod, stuffed it into the barrel from the side of the muzzle and determined that the bullet was stuck closer to the chamber, right under the aiming bar. Without thinking twice, the Yurets knocked on the head of the ramrod first with a hand - it did not go. I took an F-1 grenade from the box (by the way, the F-1 case is a great hammer), tapped once and again - with difficulty, but the ramrod began to sink into the barrel, and then something fell out of the barrel. We look, and this is not a bullet at all, but a lead shirt and a steel core from a bullet. So the steel shell from the bullet remained in the barrel. - Fuck ..., stated Yurets and looked into the barrel. And there is. The damn hull glittered with ragged edges.
Guys, we are technically educated, and damn sharp-witted, I even studied the technical support in techie! Therefore, having pledged the situation, we diagnosed that the shell was opened up in the barrel channel and she firmly clung to the barrel rifles, that the ACS ramrod was too thin and could not catch the shell, and the ramrod from the 7,62 mm caliber could save the situation, moreover, to enhance the effect pushing the casing out of the barrel, I suggested using a 5,45mm wipe, but turning it backwards in front. That is, the rub has one edge with a slit for rags, and there is a second edge in the form of a threaded tube with which it is screwed onto the ramrod. We will pick up the shell from the barrel walls with these sharp ends along the tubular end, and since we don’t have AKMs of 7,62mm caliber, we take a piece of PCT ramrod (this 7,62mm machine gun is mounted on the BMP and BTR), the barrel is long and The cleaning rod is assembled from pieces. So we will have a snood sham.
About breakfast and roast was forgotten. We changed from service and immediately began to execute the plan. From the muzzle of the barrel, the rubbing tube was pushed forward into the barrel, a piece of ramrod from the PCT was inserted from above. The ramrod was hit pretty hard even with a sledgehammer. Carry for quite some time. As a result, we got a tubular part of the rubbing wedged in the barrel. The rubbing part with a slit for rag broke off from the tubular part and was removed from the barrel without problems. Now there was a shell and rubbing in the barrel ...
We sat down, smoked, scratched our turnips and decided to go to the master intake of Serge to a locksmith, he had all sorts of tools, and he was also a locksmith from God.
Seryoga looked, shone a flashlight in the barrel and wrapped up such a theory that we didn’t listen to him until the end, but offered to act. In his opinion, in order for the rubbing to move and not deform, a sharp, hard blow is necessary. This stiffness will provide the ball from the bearing is equal to the diameter of the barrel. I don’t know what technical calculations this ball came from, well, a ball, so a ball, if only it would help. They found a ball in the workshop, drove it into the barrel, a ramrod on top, a sledge hammer on top. After several blows with a sledgehammer, - the upper tip of the ramrod bent, and rubbing from a place! Suddenly, a brilliant locksmith dawned. Everything is really simple. It is necessary to heat the barrel, the metal will expand, and the entire contents of the barrel will fly out.
They kindled a blowtorch, warmed up a part of the barrel, where it was rubbed to yellow, the barrel became transparent and even the rifling in the barrel and stuck rubbing were visible. Again on top of the ball, ramrod, sledgehammer. I was warming with a blowtorch, Seryoga in the mittens was holding the machine gun with the barrel up, Yurets thrashed the sledge hammer on the ramrod ... - it is useless !!! When the barrel cooled, it turned out that the aiming bar, which was just above the heating point, also warmed up and gradually cooled, and the spring that fixes the aiming device was released, that is, it lost its elasticity, and now the aim bar was hanging up and down as it pleased. . But it was nonsense compared to what assumption I came to. Assumptions were sad and consisted in the fact that with a strong heating of the barrel, the metal in it became softer and when struck with a sledge hammer on the ramrod, and the ramrod in turn on the ball, and the ball on the rubbing, could deform inside, as if to swell! Yurets, after listening to my assumptions, concluded: "That's all, ass!". I took the gun and silently left the workshop.
Attempt #4 - Last
While walking from the workshop to our smoking room (they used to clean the weapon there), they rolled a couple of alternative solutions to the problem.
The first option, which we didn’t like at once, suggested irreversible damage to weapons, i.e. automatic machine for write-off. And it was as follows: tomorrow it was planned to leave for the night ambush, there was clearly no cost without shooting, so you could “accidentally leave” the machine gun on the entrenchment of the trench, and the BMP gunner would “accidentally” get out of the FCT using the automatic gun receiver or “accidentally drop” automatic under the BMP, exactly the receiver across the goose.
The second option involved the surrender of Yurts to the mercy of the zampolit of our outpost, since the head of the outpost was in the Union. But the change must be accurate, with the provision of metered information. Namely: not about what shell in the trunk not to speak, but to try to drive the political officer over the ears about the fact that during cleaning of the trunk, rubbing broke off and was tightly stuck in the trunk. He, of course, will not believe, but also will not check.
The second option was the most preferable, since the decision to write off the machine seemed to be shifted onto the shoulders of the political officer. But! Yurtsu, and most likely I, as an accomplice, still have to serve hard labor and do not yet know which one!
We decided to postpone the surrender of Yurts to after dinner, because after dinner everything is kinder and more appeasable. And, to kill before lunch time, they took up putting the machine in order. First of all, it was necessary to remove traces of automatic heating under the aiming bar. A simple wiping machine with a rag with gun oil destroyed all traces, to which we were pretty surprised. Burning the trunk did not suffer at all! Then the machine was carefully cleaned and assembled.
After lunch, Yurets went to surrender to the political officer. The conversation was not long, the political officer jumped out of the cockpit with a machine gun and headed straight for Nachman (the head of the MMG is a respected and revered, indisputable authority among the soldiers, shook his third term in the DRA). Zampolit was, though young, but cunning. Do they teach this in military schools? He instantly turned the arrows to solve the problem on the shoulders of Nachman, - everything ingenious is simple.
A few minutes later, the political officer with Nachman appeared in our smoking room. Nachman once again asked Yurts what was really in the trunk. Yurets stood his ground - rubbing! Nachman with the words: "Give the cartridge, now let's see what's there." With the skill of a conjurer, he took a bullet from a cartridge case (who tried to confirm that it was not easy to do it), drove the cartridge case into the chamber, raised the machine gun over his head and fired. We squinted, expecting the worst - the rupture of the trunk. But there was an ordinary regular shot, only rubbing, moving away along the mortar trajectory in the direction of the next village, squealing like a ballistic missile on takeoff! Nachman dismantled the machine gun, looked into the trunk: “Son! Shot fired? Give patron. He took a bullet from the cartridge case, but this time in a sleeve cartridge he hammered a piece of the stick tightly. She drove the sleeve in the chamber. He picked up the gun and fired. The shell with a howl went to the sky after the rub. Nachman dismantled the machine gun, looked into the barrel and, giving the machine gun to Yurtsu, said: “On, fine. Once again you get caught, I tell you ... ..! ”Nachman has always been a master of strong expressions! But for some reason I paid attention to the word "... get caught ...".
When the curious had dispersed from the smoking-room, Yurets grabbed a ramrod and wiped the barrel several times, looked into it and gave me an automatic with square eyes: “Look at it”. I looked at the trunk and ofigel. The barrel in the place of heating was pristine polished! No scratches, no dents!
Spring under the sighting bar, we then replaced. With this machine, Yurets served up to demob, 100 can shoot out of it, and maybe more shops and no problems! Glory to the Russian gunsmiths !!!