I screwed up recently. Embarrassingly so.
Let me tell you about it.
WHY?
I could easily hide it, of course, and few would be the wiser. Only a couple folks witnessed it, and they’ve got no reason to tell anyone. I could easily chalk this one up to a “lesson learned,” and go about my business without telling an embarrassing story about myself, but I think it’s important to fess up.
Why? Well, for a couple reasons. First, I think you might be able to learn something valuable from my mistake, so I feel I’ve got an obligation to share it. That’s the professional culture I was raised in–one of after-action analysis and accountability–and it’s part of my ethos. We don’t hide our mistakes; We face them, and learn from them, like men.
Second, it’s a useful exercise in humility. If I’m not careful, I could start to confuse the positive attention that my writing, interviews, and teaching have generated for actual skill at arms, but the truth is different. I’m a good shooter, but I’m certainly not a top-tier, or even a great, shooter. I usually rank near the top of the open enrollment classes or law enforcement training sessions I attend, but those are small ponds. I could probably be outscored by half of the roster in any local USPSA match. Being honest about my mistakes and abilities helps to keep my ego in check, and also reminds me that I still have lots of work to do, to become the shooter that I’d like to be.
Third, it’s a useful exercise in human fallibility. It doesn’t matter how much expertise or talent or skill someone has, they are capable of error—especially when asked to perform under stress. It’s part of being human, and it’s important to be mindful of our natural propensity to make mistakes when we’re discussing things like training, tactics and preparedness for combat. It’s also very important to keep this trait in mind when we’re teaching students to perform these skills.
WHAT?
So, what happened?
Well, the short version is I screwed up a draw, and I dropped my loaded gun. Ugh. First time I’ve ever done that, in almost 50 years of shooting. Dangerous, and embarrassing.
The slightly longer version goes like this. In the opening moments of a qualification and training day, I failed to obtain a solid grip on my pistol as I was drawing it from the holster. As I withdrew the pistol, the front sight hooked on the lip of the holster and the pistol was stripped from my hand, as a result of the poor grip. The gun landed on the concrete floor, but did not fire.
HOW?
It’s worth diving into the details of how this came about, to understand what contributed to the error.
As background, the holster and pistol are issued duty gear. The pistol I’d carried and intensively trained with for 18 years was replaced by one of another design within the previous year, and the new gun has several features that are different, to include a different grip angle, and a front sight that is taller.
While the issued holster is the same model as the one I’d used for the last 8 years or so, the design of the holster’s mouth has been changed, and the control for the retention device rests in a slightly different position, as a result of changes to the basic holster design and the different model of handgun it’s built for. When my hand lands on the gun now, my thumb doesn’t find the control in the same place that it used to, because the terrain is slightly changed.
I went through a one-day conversion training program for the new pistol, which included about three hours of live-fire training, but did not spend sufficient time and effort training with the new gear on my own time, afterwards. Regrettably, I actually did little firearms training of any sort since the conversion, because “life” just got in the way. My increasingly busy professional and personal schedule forced me to make hard choices about how to spend my limited free time, and I chose not to invest sufficient time practicing with the new gear. I worked with it some, but not enough. The majority of the handgun training I did during this period–which honestly, wasn’t very much– was with different equipment. I mostly trained with my personal carry gear, but also worked with some gear I was testing for various RevolverGuy projects, so the new duty rig got neglected.
These factors combined to create a perfect storm on the day I messed things up. As a result of changes in the equipment, my unfamiliarity with it, and my lack of training currency, I managed to commit the following errors:
1.) Failed to establish a good master grip, cleanly disengage the retention device, and complete the grip during the initial stage of the draw;
2.) Failed to vertically clear the mouth of the holster before trying to orient the muzzle downrange, during the intermediate stages of the draw;
3.) Failed to maintain control of the pistol after the front sight got caught on the holster’s mouth, and the gun stopped moving.
ON THE OTHER HAND
That’s the bad news. The good news is:
1.) I didn’t shoot myself or anyone else. Proper trigger finger discipline prevented me from pulling the trigger when the gun started to leave my grasp. When the gun started to fall, my initial, reflexive response was to move my hands towards it, but my brain intercepted them and commanded them to let the gun fall to the floor without interference, because I knew trying to catch a dropped gun often results in inadvertently pulling the trigger. I quickly pulled my hands back, and just let the gun tumble to the ground. My recent training had been deficient, but my accumulated training and experience worked to prevent a bad situation from getting worse. I’ve always put a heavy emphasis on safety protocols when I’m training and teaching, including letting dropped guns and gear fall freely, and the good habits I’d built over time allowed me to make the proper decision in the moment, thereby avoiding tragedy;
2.) The mechanical safeties worked properly, and the gun didn’t discharge when it hit the ground. We’d normally expect this kind of performance as a matter of routine from a modern firearm, but given the ongoing problems with uncommanded discharges in the popular Sig Sauer P320 design, I was particularly grateful that my gun from another maker worked as intended. There was a pop when my jaw dropped, and a slamming sound from my sphincter, but no bang from the gun;
3.) I didn’t put myself in front of my neighbor’s gun, in an effort to retrieve my fallen pistol. We were positioned close together on the range, and if I’d immediately reached down to pick up my fallen gun, I would have put myself directly in front of his gun, which was being held in a Low Ready position. Once again, a lifetime of good training and safety habits kicked in to prevent a bad situation from getting worse. Undoubtedly, someone out there is thinking that we should “train like we fight,” and I should have immediately reached for the gun to get it “back in the fight,” to reinforce the proper combative mindset, but I disagree. If this had been combat, picking the gun up right away would have been the right thing to do, but nobody needs to get shot in training;
4.) The gun was no worse for wear. The gun landed in a manner that nothing was damaged. Nothing broke, no sights were displaced, no barrel crowns were dinged, no slide rails got bent. Honestly, I couldn’t even find a mark on the gun from where it impacted—not even a flattened bit of plastic. It worked flawlessly after it was recovered, and the only thing that got damaged was my pride;
5.) I made a good recovery. Yeah, I kicked myself in the butt for a bit, but I didn’t dwell on my mistake so much that it distracted me from the job at hand. There’s a natural tendency when we do something really stupid and embarrassing to obsess about it, and to let our mind drift from what we’re doing right now. That’s a recipe for disaster, especially when you’re dealing with dangerous objects like firearms. I was fortunate to learn, early in my military career, that if you’re busy thinking about how you just screwed up, you’re going to make an even bigger mistake, soon. Accept it. Drive on. Stay focused on the mission. When the smoke cleared at the end of the qualification, I still outshot the other guys, because I was able to shelve dealing with the shock and embarrassment of my screw up until later, and focus on doing what I needed to do. There was plenty of time to feel like an idiot for dropping my gun later on (and I made use of it, believe me).
TAKEAWAYS
There are some obvious lessons here, for the reader, and maybe a few that are a little less obvious.
First, you’ve got to put in the work. I didn’t, so I wasn’t sharp with my equipment and my performance suffered. It didn’t matter that I had a long history of training with firearms, because my recent training with that specific one was deficient. I “knew” this, but I still allowed it to happen.
Second, small changes can have big impacts. My new equipment was very similar to the old gear, but there were enough small differences that I needed to make some adjustments in how I handled it. I didn’t put in the work to make the necessary changes permanent, so the poor results were unsurprising. Again, I “knew” this, but still allowed it to happen (are we sensing a trend, here?). By the way, if you’re a member of the “gun of the week” club, reread this paragraph.
Third, safety matters. Safety is not something you do, it’s something that becomes a part of how you do things–how you do everything, actually. When we’re tired, stressed, distracted, rusty, or just flat not paying attention, we don’t have the bandwidth to consciously focus on doing things the right way. Instead, we revert to habits, and if those habits aren’t good, then the results won’t be good. As shooters, we need to make safety an unconscious habit, something that becomes the default, without conscious thought–the way we do things. Don’t give yourself a pass on safety violations; Hold yourself accountable, and consciously program the right habits.
Fourth, to err is human. We all do it, even the best of us. If we’re lucky, we don’t make big, unrecoverable mistakes, just small ones. Part of ensuring that is building a robust, layered defense against error—making safety a way of life, building good habits, avoiding the shortcuts, putting in the work to maintain skills, selecting the right gear, paying attention to what you’re doing, and so on. We can trip up in one area, and have another save us from total ruin, kinda like how a violation of one of the “Big Four” firearms safety rules will result in a mistake, and possibly a negligent discharge, but it won’t be a fatal mistake unless you violate one or more of the other rules, simultaneously.
Fifth, from a training standpoint, it’s important to accept that error is part of the territory. We know that people will make mistakes, particularly when they’re under stress, so we should focus on methods, skills, and practices that are robust, and offer greater resistance to stress and error. It’s the reason why I teach and use a hard Low Ready position, for example, and don’t try to “game it” by just lowering my muzzle a little bit from my firing position, like I see so many clock-conscious shooters do. It’s also the reason why I teach reloading methods that might be a little slower on the clock, and might not win you any tournaments, but will help to ensure that you don’t fumble your gun or ammo, in extremis. I’ll take robust, reliable, and safe over fast, when I’m training to perform skills that might be used in difficult conditions while under great stress.
SAY THREE HAIL JOHN BROWNING’S, GO FORTH, AND SIN NO MORE
As I mentioned earlier, I’d never dropped a loaded gun before, in almost 50 years of shooting. This one was a real shocker to me, and a source of great personal embarrassment. I’m just glad that nobody got hurt because of my error, and I’m also glad that it gave me a chance to do a reality check on my training. It would have been a much harsher lesson if I’d discovered it in the middle of a fight.
Hopefully you got something useful out of this confession, too. If so, it was mission accomplished. I’d much rather teach you by my positive example, than through my stupid mistakes, but the learning is the important part. There’s no room for egos in the debrief.
That’ll do for now. Be safe out there!
To err is human.
We are all fallible creatures and all of us make mistakes in life.
The ones who admit to and learn from their mistakes are the smart ones.
Who among us is qualified to pick up a stone and throw it at someone who made a mistake?
Thanks Tony. No stone-throwing in this group, just constructive analysis!
Mike,
Thanks for sharing the details of your training incident in fine-grained detail so we can all learn from it.
Michael
PS, Your credibility as a shooter, trainer, and writer is enhanced by this transparency.
Thank you Sir, that’s sincerely appreciated. Glad it was useful.
Thank you for this marvelous article. May your example inspire me to better training.
I appreciate the kind words, Bob. I hope your training is productive!
Hey Mike, thank you for putting this out there. Explaining your experience so others may learn is valuable. There is a lot of discussion about making “Thou shalt let it fall” the 5th safety rule along with the 4 that most of us consider the non-negotiables. It’s that important, and I’m glad you did so in that awful split second when you realized it was going. The gun hit the deck, built in safeties worked, no blood spilled. We all know the hurt pride and embarrassment you felt, but you stowed it and took care of business afterwards. It could’ve had a much worse ending had you have tried to grab it on its way down. No harm to the gun was a nice bonus to your learning moment. Had it been an adjustable sighted S&W medium framed revolver, 99 percent chance it lands on (and significantly damages) the rear sight! Your willingness to make your after action debrief public is a nod to your professional upbringing and personal ethos. We could sure use more of that in this world. Thanks!
Very kind of you to say, pal. It wasn’t my finest hour, but I’m glad to see the story is connecting with our fellow RevolverGuys. If I’d dropped an adjustable sight K-frame, you would have heard the cursing out there in NM.
Mike, glad you bring it up, good learning experience for us all. Glad no one was hurt, and it was in the training environment. I’ve had one ND, it was with a weapon I hadn’t handled in a very long time and was unfamiliar with. I had no business messing with it, but at least it was pointed into a berm. It certainly humbled me, and I have been more careful since.
Thanks pal. It sure makes you pay better attention, doesn’t it?
Yes it does
Just read your account of “should have known better” mistake. Thanks for fessing up.
I guess if we play the game long enough, we all “screw-up.”
After about 10 years as an instructor, I always cautioned folks that, “If you pocket-carry, be sure the holster doesn’t come out with the gun.” So there I was on the line,renewing my HR218, reached into my pocket for my 442, and out came the gun with my Desantis soft holster attached. Talk about embarrassing.
Makes me wonder if how much we “learn” actually sticks – especially with the “newbies” just looking to get their first CCW.
Thanks Bob. There’s definitely something to your risk going up with your amount of exposure.
So, did you safety pin that holster to your pocket after that? 😉
Anyone who says they’ve never had a mishap with a firearm either hasn’t been around firearms long enough or is lying. Personally, I know from experience what that K (or L, or N) frame does when flubbed, and Kevin McPherson was exactly right – the revolver immediately acts like an olympic gymnast, alters its position in the space between your hand and the floor so it will do a perfect single point landing directly on the rear sight blade. Generous quantities of glittering obscenities are included with that sort of thing. It was also after that when I instantly realized why service sidearms tend to have fixed sights, and why I have an assortment of spare S&W and Ruger rear sight blades.
You were indeed fortunate that nothing went bang, nobody got hurt. Getting acclimated to new gear is where if something is going to go sideways, it probably will.
Blame it on Wile E. Coyote
Thank you Sir.
It was that darned Roadrunner!
Dropped a gun or two. Sometimes the unexpected rears its head. Sometimes it’s pure operator error.
We learn through training, through repetition, through mistakes made.
Not making a grab for a runaway striker fired gun (or a cocked hammer gun!)-whether airborne or bouncing on the deck–shows common sense and presence of mind.
I hate to say it, but welcome to the club, and thanks for the reminder.
Hah! The club that none of the members want to be in.
Thank you Sir.
My primary hobby passion is upland bird hunting on public land with my vizsla.
For those of you that have never done it, picture the thickest forest cover you can imagine, then ramp it up a bit more. That’s where I walk looking for ruffed grouse .
I’ve learned how to fail safe when it comes to dropping my over/under because the reality is, I trip, and I fall. A lot. : )
It’s a club no one wants to join, as has been said above, but it’s a club none-the-less. I realize handguns offer a much more significant challenge than face planting in the woods, as my only witness is my dog, but still. I get it.
Thanks for the honest approach and welcome to the club.
I guess the club is bigger than we thought? Thanks for the backup, Brent. Those Vizslas are wonderful dogs!! Give him a rub on the ears for me.
Almost not gun-related, but I wanted to say I always enjoy your writing, which is so precise and clear (or maybe your thinking is precise and clear AND you can express it in writing). Either way…
Many thanks, Joe, I really appreciate it!
Mike,
I too have experienced dropping a loaded handgun, and also was fortunate enough that the pistol didn’t fire. In my case it was a fairly new Colt 1991 .45 ACP, and it involved a Galco SOB (“Small of Back”, not the other type of SOB.). I had just began experiencing the brave new world of Concealed Carry, and in this case my wife and I were taking a walk on the black top county road on which we lived. I had the 1991 in the sob and was trying to break the common CCW habit of constantly checking the pistol to verify it was still secure in it’s holster. Walking along I suddenly felt something heavy slip down the back of my leg, and instantly realizing what it was, out of pure reflex and spun around trying to catch the pistol.
I missed.
But in the act of trying to field it, I managed to kick the pistol all of the way across the road into the drainage ditch on the other side.
Only damage was that the nylon (!) mainspring housing had a chunk broken out of it. Lucky.
I took two remedial measures. First, I replaced the mainspring housing with an arched and checkered steel one. Second, I removed the Galco SOB and stashed in my box of holsters, never to see daylight evermore.
If anyone would like to have a Galco SOB holster I will send them one for a 5″ Colt M1991, no strings attached (including liability ones).
Tom, send it to Brent, so his Vizsla can use it as a chew toy. Best use I can think of, for a S.O.B. holster! Glad your incident ended well, too.
In the world of firearms acronyms I regard the SOB as somewhere between POS and WTF.
But did you get the coin? Lol
Thanks for sharing Mike. Hope all is well.
Once upon a time, (I shudder to think how) many decades ago, I was running to catch the el in Chicago. My Jackass SS II shoulder holster (now the Galco Miami Classic) became unsnapped under my sport coat, with the result that I kicked a 3-inch Model 36 about twenty feet down the center of a concrete el platform. All the other people on the platform were on the edges of the platform waiting for their trains and had their backs to the entire thing, and nobody noticed a thing. I chased the gun down, picked it up, and put it in my pocket. Except for a few dings to the finish, the gun was undamaged. And, of course, there were no loud noises (except for my heart). After that I always double- and triple-checked to make sure the holster snap was fully engaged.
I bet! What a sinking feeling, to watch your gun go skittering along towards a crowd! Even in the pre-cell phone era, people weren’t particularly good at paying attenion to the world around them, were they?
Been there done that. Lesson learned, never do deadlifts before range training. Fortunately it was a Glock and the new scratches matched the old ones. Thanks for the article.
Thanks Mike! I’m working on my deadlift but probably have a ways to go, to catch up to you.
Mike-thanks for sharing this, it is invaluable and as others have said only increases my respect for you for your forthright explanation.
I’ve never dropped a gun (yet!) but twice had Velcro let go, once on a belly band and once on an ankle holster. Obviously I had done something wrong in both cases because they were fine once I got things under control and checked them out. The belly band at least just flopped down inside my tucked in shirt. The ankle holster nearly slid out of the bottom of my pants. That took some fancy footwork to conceal until I could get out of sight of others lol.
Thank you Sir, I genuinely appreciate that.
I haven’t done that loose ankle trick . . . yet!
A dropped sidearm in training? Hold my beer Mike.
Hahaha! You’ll have to tell me your war story in November, Bill.
Mike, I think you’re being a little hard on yourself. We all make mistakes. I truly admire your transparency and self discipline. These commendable traits are sorely needed in our society today.
Glad to hear that no one was physically injured and your firearm is no worse for the wear and tear.
Last week I took a concealed carry course specifically geared for law enforcement officers working undercover or in plain clothes. The class consisted of a dozen deputies, probation officers and one old coot collecting his pension.
We were practicing drawing our weapons from under clothing and firing at threats while being timed. During this drill one deputy grabbed his weapon secured in his clip-on holster, however the gun was drawn with the holster still attached.
The instructor, a retired Georgia State Patrol trooper, with 33 years of experience turned this potentially embarrassing situation into a “teachable moment.”
He said this happens quite often with clip on holsters. If this happens in combat, strip the holster off and toss it towards the threat as a diversionary tactic while you follow up with as many rounds as you deem necessary to stop that threat. He went further and explained that a quick draw, especially under pressure, may cause any experienced shooter to lose their grip on their weapon.
His advice for a fumbled firearm:
DO NOT attempt to grab it in midair!
Let it fall to the ground.
When it’s safe, retrieve your weapon.
Our instructor explained that years ago while conducting a live fire exercise a student fumbled his handgun, grabbed it in midair and inadvertently shot the student next to him. The round exited that student’s leg and proceeded to enter the foot of the instructor standing next to them!
Sounds like you executed this untoward event perfectly. I’m grateful that you and my instructor shared this information.
I don’t ever recall being taught how to handle a fumbled weapon.
I took note of your comment regarding folks in the “gun of the month club.”
I feel very confident and comfortable with my 44 year old S&W Model 10. I was also trained and issued a Glock 19 while working narcotics. I always carried both when on duty. Upon retirement, I kept my revolvers (M-10 & M-36) but had to return the G-19.
My “new gun” was purchased 16 years ago, a Glock 23. Virtually identical manual of arms, size, and weight as my duty weapon.
As you so eloquently stated, there’s something to be said about being very familiar with your equipment.
To be clear I should have typed “new Glock” rather than “new gun.”
I thank you Sir, and really appreciate your kind words, in addition to the important tips and lessons you shared, here.
Re: drawing the holster with the gun, I’ve always been a fan of belt loops on IWB holsters, for that reason. I’ve been distrustful of clips, because I grew up with the holsters that had crummy ones, and saw examples of what you described. After Lou Alessi developed his Talon Clip in the 80s, things got much better. While some of today’s clip designs are very good and robust, and will do the job nicely, I’m still a belt loop kinda guy because old habits die hard.
I don’t like paddle holsters for the same reason. Seen way too many of those get drawn with the gun. Actually, I’ve seen many more of these get drawn with the gun than clipped holsters!
Some pocket holsters are prone to the problem, usually when the holster isn’t matched up very well to the shape and size of the pocket. That’s why I’ve got a small collection of them, of varying sizes and shapes.
I like the tactic of using the thrown holster as a diversion! Clever!
What an awful result from the dropped gun that was caught. It happens more frequently than we’d expect, I believe. This is one of those areas where it’s better to learn from someone else’s mistake, instead of insisting on making it yourself.
A few years ago, I had a student who wanted to train with several different guns he’d brought to our session. They all had different operating systems–a striker-fired auto, a single action auto, and a double action auto. He wasn’t particularly familiar with any of them, but rejected my suggestion that he should pick one, get good with it, and stick with it. He felt he’d be able to remember the differences, in the heat of battle.
I hope he never has to find out if he was right.
Mike, the long-time motorcycle journalist, racer, and instructor Nick Ienatsch coined the phrase “Don’t crash your coffee cup” as a way to get riders to focus on tasks before making the movements. Nick uses everday example of unfocused movements leading to errors, from knocking over your coffee cup to messing up your keyboard entries…trying to eliminate these minor gaffes as a way to improve our execution of riskier tasks where a lack of proper focus can lead to injury or even death.
https://www.cycleworld.com/everyday-practice-for-increased-motorcycling-excellence/
Thanks Ricky! That’s a neat approach to training our “focus muscle,” as he calls it. I appreciate the share.
Mike:
First, I am glad there were no injuries.
Second, I echo many of the others comments here in that I appreciate the in depth write up of your incident. Thank you for doing “the hard right” versus “the easy wrong” by discussing your incident.
We cannot “fix’ things that we do not talk about. If we want responsibility and accountability within our profession, we need to be able to discuss difficult things. By bringing this issue to light, you set a good example about how professionals are supposed to behave. Well done.
Thank you Sir, that means a lot to me. I appreciate it.
How come your “comments” don’t always correspond with your articles?
Under Screwing Up” it says 40 comments but I only see about 10.
Hi Bob, I see all 41 comments, so if you’re only viewing 10, then something’s wrong on your end. I’d suggest deleting the URL from your browser and any cookies that are stored, then typing in the URL fresh into your browser. That should hopefully do the trick, to allow you to see the most recent version of the page.
MIKE,
I guess changing from a ten year old IPad to a new one made the difference.
Thanks for getting back to me.
Regards,
Bob