Saga of the Asperly Aimless

[Buckshot]

...................As I said I shot the thing the other day. One nice thing is that there is no utility whatsoever in taking sighters. The Random Floating Apurture rear sight, by design, makes such an activity fairly useless.

I had found a suitable barn for my shooting range, with no one at home and the animals all out to pasture, a reasonably safe distance away, or protected by topography. Repairing to the barn, I went inside and closed the doors at both ends.

I dragged out a bale of hay, and tossed a bag of oats on top as a rest for the Asperly. Then I went to the far wall (maybe 30 feet) and chalked a mark to aim at that was high enough to geep the boolit from rolling out of the barrel. I settled down behind the bale of hay, settled the Asperly on the bag of oats. Carefully inserting the 'cartridge' I then closed and locked the breech.

This action randomizes the floating apurture in the rear sight. There is also no elevation or windage adjustment, which amazingly simplifies it's use. However, the rear sight is no simple object in itself. I believe it's action is affected by static electricity, planetary alignment, barometric pressure, and the current state of the stock market.

With a fevered brow I had my cheek to the stock. I placed the 3 fingers on the "Asperly Patented Safety Trigger" required to pull it. I patiently awaited the apurture to appear in the rear sight. After some tantalizingly quick glimmers of it's edges, or of it zooming past, it finally presented itself (although a bit obliquely) long enough for my brain to send the urgent signal to my fingers to "YANK NOW!".

The trigger oozed backwards as only the Asperly Safety Trigger can. Kind of like squeezing a plum. The sear tripped, the intermediate lever slammed down releasing the clockspring to unwind in well oiled fashion, powering the eccentric cam to rotate around and open the path for the 3/4" ball bearing to begin it's tortuous path to smack the striker a good one.

With a hearty boom and amidst a cloud of crimped oats I reloaded. I put out the fire on my bale of hay and resolutely refused to view my handiwork. I've seen shooters pop up and down like jack in the boxes to look through their spotting scopes, but not me.

By the time I'd fired the 5 shots for a group, my deoderant had quit, my hair was singed back to mid-scalp, my eyebrows were gone, and recoil had about done me in. I suspect I was the only person in 3 counties who could clap his shoulder blades together.

As I walked forward amidst a cloud of dust, crimped oats, and the occasional falling cedar shingle to check my target, I found not one boolit hole. A carefull survey of the interior of the barn turned up 3 very recently deceased rafter rats, and one hole in the loft behind my shooting position. Ah yes, nothing like the ole Asperly!

After recovering sufficiently enough to drive, I walked out to my car and saw a power company truck pull up, obviously to replace a couple insulators, as the lines were sagging low. Hmmm, wasn't like that when I arrived?

As I drove home with the Asperly dragging on the ground from the bumper hitch, I realized the old piece still had it. If I set my mind to it, in the next few months I may be able to save enough money to possibly move the Asperly on to someone else who doesn't know where I live.

To those of you who've replied to this opus, with advice, and further information, I thank you. To those having freely admited to having owned, or currently owning an Asperly (of whatever description) I will take your name and pray for you. You are of stout heart, and rapidly diminishing number.

.................Buckshot

[BCB]

It has now become crystal clear that I have lived a boring and unfulfilled life and I shall never have enough time to make up, or hope for, adventures such as I have just read…BCB

[MT Gianni]

If I were in California I would check the tide tables. Shoot on a low tide and if performance isn't improved toss it out on the outgoing tide. gianni.

[montana_charlie]

If I set my mind to it, in the next few months I may be able to save enough money to possibly move the Asperly on to someone else who doesn't know where I live.

As it happens, I do not know where you live. In addition, with some diligence on my part, and a reasonable amount of compensation on yours, I could probably remain ignorant on that score.
Moreover, I might be willing to relieve you of that treasure for less than you imagine.

I have a barn which has been taken over by wild pigeons, and no amount of skulking about can place me in a position where I can shoot even one in an attempt to begin reducing the population.
As one looks away, and I begin my stalk, another sounds the alarm and the entire interior of the barn becomes a swirling malestrom of feathers and feces.

As any who has tried 'flock shooting' with a shotgun can attest, just letting go with the twelve bore results in nothing more than a pile of empty shells to be policed up.
Similarly, firing a rifle into the melee is equally useless. If one aims at a bird, it is gone before the trigger can be pulled...and to aim accurately at an empty space presupposes a bird will fly into it just as the bullet arrives. We all know the folly of that!

No...something which is as totally random as can be devised by Man surely has to be the best tool for my predicament. From your description, it appears that you possess the solution I have been seeking...maybe...probably...hopefully...if Allah wills it.

If you will arrange transport of your Asperly to me, along with ten of it's 'cartridges', I will test it thoroughly for a period of three days. At the end of that period, I wll inform you of how much you owe me for the three day respite in possession...and will (in the same communication) present an offer detailing the amount I will require to keep the Asperly indefinitely.

Should you decline my offer, I will (of necessity) be required to find out where you live.
CM

[sundog]

Charlie, something along the lines of FAE (fuel air explosive) may possibly solve your problem. Guaranteed that the ole barn would not survive. So, that idea might be a bit counter productive.

[waksupi]

Charlie, I have a solution to your pigeon problem. When they are on roost at night, go in the barn with a bright flash, or spotlight. Shine it at the pigeons, and they will fly directly at the light. Grab them ,and stuff them in a gunny sack. It is nice to have an assistant.
Once you have a bag full, put them out of your misery, and save the breasts. Put them in a roaster, with some dressing, and you will have some excellent eating.

Sorry for going off topic!

[trk]

Charlie, I have a solution to your pigeon problem. When they are on roost at night, go in the barn with a bright flash, or spotlight. Shine it at the pigeons, and they will fly directly at the light. Grab them ,and stuff them in a gunny sack. It is nice to have an assistant.
Once you have a bag full, put them out of your misery, and save the breasts. Put them in a roaster, with some dressing, and you will have some excellent eating.

Sorry for going off topic!

The common game (back in IOWA) was to go into the barn at night, take the light and shine it in large circles - round and round - the pidgeons would watch, getting dizzy. Shoot one round into the dirt and ALL the pidgeons would take off - most flying right into the walls and falling - easy to pick up and stuff into the gunny sack.

One shot - many pidgeons! Almost as much fun as cow tipping here in Virginia.

[Catshooter]

9.3X63AL,

You shoot with this guy each Tuesday? I hardly know what to say. Do you suppose we could negotiate um, an 'accident'?

Think of it as self-preservation, after all, some Tuesday he may bring the AA.


Cat

[Phil]

Hey Sundog,

Ever build a fougasse "device"? (insert politically incorrect term if desired)

Cheers,

Phil

[Swagerman]

Hello Phil, what is the aircraft in your little picture.

Looks vintage WW-2, maybe a Bell AirCobra with the Packard engine. The Allison engine was not the best performer in that bird.

Didn't it have the automobile door on the left side.

The fighter jocks use say, pile one of those up and you get Packard stamped on your butt...the engine being behind the pilot.

Jim

[Phil]

Hi Jim,

The airplane in the picture is a Bell P-63 Kingcobra. big brother to the P-39 Airacobra. The P-39 and P-63 series had doors on both sides but you usually entered and exited by the right door as the power levers and trim wheel was in the way on the left side.
The pictured airplane, with me on the wing, had a late model Allison V-1710-133 engine installed. With Bob Eucker flying, it won the Sohio Trophy Race and was second in the Tinnerman Trophy Race during the National Air Races held at Cleveland, Ohio in 1948.
The Packard engine you are thinking about was a license built Rolls Royce V-1650 as used in the P-51. To be honest about it, the only thing better about the Rolls engine was the supercharger. Dwight Thorne, who until retirement built most of the Rolls Royce engines used in P-51 racers flown at the Reno air races, used Allison connecting rods in them. The Rolls engine didn't have the toughness of the Allison. At lower altitudes the P-63 could wax the P-51 royally in mock combat. I have talked to many test pilots and combat pilots who confirm this. The blower in the Merlin made it the better engine when you got up to 20,000 feet or so though.
Thanks for the interest, those were great years for a little kid, and some of the pilots of those planes are still my friends, one of them among the best of my friends. As an aside, Cook Cleland recently passed away. Cook won two of the Thompson Trophy Races at Cleveland with a P&W R4360 powered F2G Corsair. These WWII veterans of all services diminish at an ever increasing rate, very sad.

Cheers,

Phil

[Swagerman]

Thanks Phil, for your in depth answer with all the good information you shared with us.

The Russians really loved the Cobras, used them mostly for tank busting.

I believe we used them mostly at the lower altitudes in the Pacific arena, but some went to Europe as well.

The Allison must have been pretty good, it was used in the P-38 as well.

Jim

[montana_charlie]

Ever build a fougasse "device"? (insert politically incorrect term if desired)

I am not Sundog, but if you will accept 'foo gas' as a spelling, I have helped build several...and used some of them as intended.

I refer to a large container of a refined petroleum product that has (either) been gelled...or thickened with the addition of stolen flour...which is meant to be ignited remotely by an explosive device (such as a claymore mine).

When 'visitors in the night' are too numerous to greet each (individually) with a personalized 5.56mm welcome, 'foo gas' has the ability to extend a blanket greeting in a form of mass mailing that reaches all members in a squad (more or less) simultaneously. While not really classifying as 'spam', it did create 'crispy critters' on Nui Ba Den in 1972.
CM

[Phil]

Thats the one!

Cheers,

Phil

[sundog]

That's some stuff, Charlie. Foo gas. goood s&!t, Maynard! Lights things up real good, too.

But, so is FAE. Different concept. Aerated fuel over a wide volume, like a cave, then ignited. Sucks every drop of oxygen out of the air. Not to mention, detonation, heat, and other nice attributes. Not real familiar with it, but supposed to work real good.

Foo gas is really some nasty stuff....

[montana_charlie]

Foo gas. goood s&!t, Maynard!

Actually, that comes very close to being a direct quote of the words said by my foxhole partner on the night I let loose the first one.

His last name was Jackson, and I never knew his first. He was a big, soft spoken, well-built black man who was an Army Spec 5 radio operator. He and I (an Air Force E-5 electronics tech) got on quite well, but his most trusted friend was his dog...a large, black, (possibly) pit bull that he called '******'.

Jackson was left-handed, which is why I asked him to be my compadre. The fighting position we manned was primarily responsible for protecting our generators, and had three fields of fire to cover. A southpaw was a natural choice for the zone to our west.

In all cases, our job (the ten of us) was to blunt any attack long enough for a gunship to arrive above us. Sometimes that happened quickly...sometimes not.

On the night in question, we were under attack by a force numbering around a hundred. Not the largest we ever faced, but larger than normal.
And, we already knew our AC-130 was a long way off.

Things would seem to heat up in one area of the perimeter, then cool down some, to start up elsewhere. Eventually, it was our turn (Jackson and me) and the bad guys persisted long enough that we began to take turns reloading some of our empty magazines when firing slackened a bit.
Sensing movement in a (known but hidden) gully slightly off to the right of our front, I called in to say we might have a sizeable group about to come up from that quarter. The Captain said 'everybody was busy' so he had no one to send to our position to assist. Then he asked, "Isn't that one of the places you guys put that foo gas?"

It had been there so long, I had forgotten it existed. When I confirmed the location, he said to use it if we needed it.
I handed Jackson the radio handset, and began searching for the wire for that particular claymore. I connected a 'clicker' to it, and laid it on top of our sandbags...within easy reach.

When the real push started, we kept a careful but steady fire going, which seemed able to hold them back. But, when the number suddenly doubled, we opted for the foo gas.

This 55 gallon drum, buried at an angle at the head of that gully, had been sitting there for a couple of months. It's contents started out as a gravy-like mixture of mostly diesel, about ten gallons of gasoline, and several sacks of flour appropriated from our small stock of mess hall 'groceries'.

Probably because the gas had evaporated, the mixture must have become 'thicker' than originally intended...perhaps more like cake batter or biscuit dough.
When I lit it off, instead of a 'spray' of SSBC (somewhat sticky burning crap)...what we got was a 'pattern' of flaming gobs that went blasting down among a bunch of Charlies who found some novel ways of displaying their surprise.

In the light of the fire, some were simply using the chin-on-the-chest facial expression which denotes dumbfoundedness. A few of those added emphasis to their expression by dropping their rifles.
Others in the squad chose to flee from the apparition...some straight back down the gully...some up and over the sides.
While we couldn't see any who were still down in the gully, the visible ones...standing agape, or trying to escape...made for excellent targets in the firelight.

And, a noticeable number of both groups...the motionless and the movers...managed to actually become recipients of the pastries we had flung among 'em. During the morning perimeter sweep and 'cleanup', the gully got a careful going over. While the extent of destruction was not exactly 'biblical', it turned out to be a pretty good score for a single claymore mine.

Anyway, about Jackson's comment...
You remember that I had passed him the radio handset in order to ready the foo gas detonator. During the whole sequence (pretty much) he was firing with one hand and holding the handset to his ear with the other.

When the dough lit up, and hot biscuits started smacking into bodies, and 'charred charlies' came charging into sight to be shot...well, old Jackson just couldn't contain himself.
Mashing down the transmit button with one hand and his M-16 trigger with the other, Jackson stated unequivocally to any who could hear his voice (which included our people...and all of the Army brass down at Tay Ninh City),
"G'dam Capt'n...that foo gas is bein' some gooood SH!T !!!

But, the Captain's name was MacGuiness...not Maynard.

CM

[MT Gianni]

Great story, Charlie! Gianni

[Phil]

Great story!

Phil

[Buckshot]

.............From reading, I understand the P-39 as designed (with a turbocharger) was one very streamlined and fast plane. However the army didn't want that and instead wanted a ground support fighter so the supercharger was removed. Yes?

..................Buckshot

[Phil]

Hi Buckshot!

Yes the P-39 was originally designed as a point defence interceptor. There were no requirements for aerobatics or long range. The whole idea of the airplane was to reach high altitudes quickly and shoot down attacking bombers. The main criteria were speed, rate of climb, and especially important, heavy armament. The real problem was the lack of a systems coordinator. No one had thought of systems coordinaters in the thirties. The government told Allison what engine to supply, GE what turbocharger to supply, and told Bell to stuff them all in the XP-39. It was a disaster. The NACA identifled enough problems to choke a horse and all the suppliers begged the government to lay off the turbocharger. The airframe just wasn't large enough to accommodate the turbo and necessary plumbing. Plus, in those early days, turbochargers were not at all reliable. That the P-39 was a very small airplane, with a very unconventional layout certainly didn't help.

To give you an idea of what was going on in one small segment of the industry during those times, of the first twenty or so V1710 series engines that Allison built, about fifteen contained different, government mandated, changes. FWIW a friend of mine, now sadly gone, worked there at that time.

For the whole story I would suggest reading "COBRA! BELL AIRCRAFT CORPORATION 1934-1946" by Birch Matthews. ISBN: 0-88740-911-3. Great read and I furnished data for the parts concerning Kingcobra racers belonging to Chuck Tucker and Howard Lilly. I also supplied some photographs and printed some negatives for Birch.

If you like that one I'd suggest reading 'WET WINGS AND DROP TANKS", also by Birch. The ISBN on that one is 0-88740-530-4. I printed and/or supplied photos for that one also.

Thanks for the interest in a subject near and dear to me,

Phil