HK P9S Review: 9mm Nirvana
You close your grip. You align your sights. You ease the slack up to the wall.
A poignant calm lingers—and a sense of what’s to come. Then, in a singularly timeless moment of clarity…
AUUUUUUMMMMMMMMMMMMMMBANG!
You and your Heckler & Koch P9S exist as one. You feel what it feels. You know what it knows. The pistol in your hands becomes indistinguishable from the essence of your being.
That’s what I call:
“9mm Nirvana.”
Which brings us to the spiritually transformative question you’ve all been waiting for…
What makes the HK P9S hipster worthy?
With its signature roller-delayed action, the HK P9S imbues its wielder with a uniquely pure and direct recoil sensation that makes every shot feel… enlightening.
Behold… tactical enlightenment
You don’t shoot an HK P9S. You commune with it.
You experience an unequaled sense of intimacy with the gun as it cycles. It’s organic. Authentic. Maybe a little arousing. Because, unlike other pistols in major calibers…
The P9S uses a fixed barrel. Just like a Walther PPK or a Pistolet Makarova. There’s no locking and unlocking. No tilting, ratcheting or rotating to insulate your senses from the ballistic realities of the shot as you take it. What you’re left with is… pure. Unmolested by some crude mechanical proxy.
And while there’s no question fixed-barrel actions offer a sense of directness you just can’t get in locked-breech pistols… they also tend to recoil like hyperactive toddlers. On meth. And copious amounts of grape Fanta. Even in “lesser” calibers.
So, how does the P9S mitigate the frenetic recoil characteristics of its fixed-barrel cousins?
I’m glad you asked, oh ardent seeker of gun-hipster wisdom…
NOTE: I know the HK P9S was also made in .45 ACP. I know this. But “.45 Nirvana” sounds dumb as a title. Plus, my P9S is in 9mm. So… here we are.
Slow Your Roll
Roller-delayed actions are among the most esoteric of all mechanical paradigms in firearms. I mean, we’re talking about rollers here. They’re round. When we think of firearms actions, we think of lugs, grooves, claws and wedges—things that hook, grab, catch, pivot and lock. Rollers just… roll, man. The fact that they can contain pressure and mitigate recoil seems like…
Magic.
And gun hipsters? We want to believe in magic.
But like most things steeped in inscrutable mystery, the allure of the unknown belies truth. A truth that I will now try to explain, in the most “non-engineering-y” way I can.
Think of an AR-15 action. You’ve got a fixed barrel. You’ve got a “bolt head” that slides in/out of a bolt carrier.
The P9S’s bolt head, lined up to my AR’s bolt head
Yes. The P9S has a bolt and a bolt carrier—like a mini assault rifle. But on the P9S, instead of the bolt rotating to lock/unlock from the carrier, you’ve got little rollers that stick out on the sides of the bolt head. These nest into corresponding “nooks” on two prong-like projections that extend back from the rear-end of the barrel.
The rollers on the sides of the bolt head engage corresponding “nooks” on two prong-like barrel extensions
When the recoil cycle begins, gas pressure pushes back on the bolt/head/carrier assembly. But the rollers on the sides of the bolt head create resistance as they roll out of their nooks, onto very precisely angled surfaces on the inside the bolt head.
It’s this rolling resistance—dictated by those precise angles—that reduces the velocity of the bolt head as it moves back (well, tries to move back). This is the essence of the “delay” in a roller-delayed blowback system.
That “pointy thing” fits inside the bolt head; the rollers roll down onto those angled shoulders at the top of the “pointy thing”
Another way to look at it…
As pressure acts on the system, the rollers prevent the bolt head from moving back for a split second. But, because the bolt head telescopes/retracts, the bolt carrier can start moving back while the bolt head is still impinged by the rollers. So, by the time the bolt head pulls away from the breech (back of the barrel), the chamber pressure has dropped… and it’s safe for the ejection port to open.
Which it does. As the slide completes its rearward cycle.
Like I said: Magic.
Accuracy lies in the eye of the gunholder
The rollers essentially do the work of a locking mechanism, without the jarring action of lugs and wedges engaging and disengaging. That, I think, is why the recoil impulse feels so crisp and direct (like other fixed-barrel pistols) yet still so buttery smooth and un-abrasive.
It’s like wheels vs. legs. You’d roll everywhere if you could. Which begs the question why the Empire always insisted on using walkers.
Basically, all of HK’s “mid-century” offerings (the P9S, the MP5 and the G3 rifle) used a facsimile of this mechanism. The concept originates from the experimental “Sturmgewehr-45” assault rifle, developed by Mauser in the last days of WWII. It’s sometimes known as the “Vorgrimler System,” so-called for one of its designers, Ludwig Vorgrimler. Interestingly, the Spanish CETME rifles of the 1950s—designed by Vorgrimler, after he emigrated to Spain—served as the inspiration for the G3 and subsequently the MP5 and P9S.
Lock & Roll
Now, the roller-DELAYED system (described above) evolved from the roller-LOCKED system—which was pioneered on the MG-42 machine gun and later found its way into the Czech CZ-52 pistol. It’s similar, but it typically uses a retracting/NON-fixed barrel and a different geometry where the rollers are more fully captured (i.e., locked) into their nooks. Under recoil, the rollers get diverted out of the nooks to unlock the barrel from the slide/bolt.
The CZ-52 (left) uses a roller-locked system, like a mini MG-42 machine gun
I’ll say that my CZ-52 (which, again, uses the roller-LOCKED system) does have that uniquely soft, smooth feel I’d associate with rollers. But it’s not as direct and intuitive as the P9S.
Probably because the CZ-52 is not a fixed-barrel design, like the P9S.
In writing this review, I literally compiled 5 pages on the history and the mechanical differences between roller-locked & roller-delayed actions. So, I developed that into a standalone article on roller-operated firearms, with a dedicated YouTube video:
So, check all that out if you’re interested. It’s kinda technical and totally nerdy—but hey, you’ve read this far already, right?
Anyway…
This is a review of the P9S. So, let’s get on with that.
Is that a Sturmgewehr in Your Pants?
As of 1966, Heckler & Koch didn’t offer any handguns.
And that’s probably because they were making phat stackz of Reichsmarks selling G3 rifles to the Bundeswehr (the postwar German military) and they were already seeing tons of interest in their brand-new MP5 submachine gun—both of which, again, use the Vorgrimler/roller-delayed system.
The P9S is kinda like a mini G3 (Wikipedia)
So, who needs handguns? Right?
People with hands, HK. That’s who.
In 1967, HK released their first handgun: the HK4. It was basically a reincarnated Mauser HSc, from WWII. Because… as a company, HK is basically the post-war reincarnation of Mauser itself. Edmund Heckler, Theodor Koch, Ludwig Vorgrimler and Alex Seidel (the latter of whom designed the HSc) all worked for Mauser during the war. So, they took what they knew and just put Ed and Ted’s name on it.
The HK4 is basically a Mauser HSc dressed like a tactical ninja (Wikipedia)
The HK4 was… fine. But it was a small, straight-blowback pistol in the vein of the Walther PP. Clearly, HK needed a pistol in a service caliber (i.e., 9mm and up) to compete.
And to achieve that, they decided NOT to reinvent the whee— er, the roller.
They’d already crunched the Vorgrimler system down from the G3 to a submachinegun. That worked fine.
So, why not a pistol?
I’m not sure Herbet Meidel—who led this new pistol project beginning in 1965—would have put it exactly like that. But, the point is, if HK knew anything, they knew roller-delayed blowback. And you know what they say…
Write what you know.
So, HK penned a prototype for a single-action, hammer-fired pistol that used a lilliputian version of the G3/MP5 action. And, like the MP5, it was made almost entirely from stamped and welded sheet-metal components (except for a polymer “housing” that comprised the dustcover, trigger guard and the grip’s front strap). Plus, it held 9 rounds in the mag—1 more than most single-stack service pistols of the day.
So, naturally, they called it the “P9.”
After producing just a few hundred “P9” pistols in single-action form, they added a double-action trigger and an “S” to the name.
And so…
The “HK P9S” was ready to roll into the 1970s like a fresh 8-Ball into a bathroom at Studio 54. And when you think about the competitive handgun offerings of that era…
Nothing else really came close.
Disco P0_nStache Tactical
The P9S just looks tactical. Not necessarily in a beard and tattoos kinda way. But in a way that’s more apropos for a precise cold-war operative. The kind of operative who—no doubt—rocked a kickass ‘stach while clandestinely capping commies in Central Asia.
The P9S looks kinda… “groovy”—in a post-industrial minimalistic kinda way
Aesthetically, the pistol exudes a minimalistic sense of sophistication. With no guide rod peeking out under the barrel, it captures the sleekly simplistic essence of a Walther PPK—but with more purpose, presence and a touch of aggression. The lack of a visible hammer accentuates the clean, utilitarian look, while the grip’s uniformly sloped backstrap eschews swoopy curves and busy angles for something more… quintessential.
When it was introduced—at the dawn of the disco era—I think it’s safe to say the HK P9S was uncontested as the world’s premier combat pistol.
The elite West German GSG-9 unit adopted it. Japanese Special Armed Police issued it. The Malaysian Royal Police used it. The U.S. Navy SEALS adopted it in 1978—because it was the only pistol reliable enough to withstand being soaked, suppressed and routinely enveloped in cocaine-laden panties.
While 1911s, Hi Powers and P38s/P1s were all good, reliable pistols, I’m not sure there was anything in the early ‘70s that could compete with the P9S’s level of refinement, toughness and raw accuracy. Plus, the P9S was more compact than any of those established contenders, which may have made it more versatile, depending on the intended role.
My P5 & P9S—two of the best-shooting pistols I’ve ever experienced
Keep in mind… we’re talking about a time before the Beretta 92, the Sig P220, the Walther P5 (essentially a refined P38) or HK’s own P7. Certainly, those pistols closed the gap on the P9S. And while, personally, I find few pistols I shoot better than a Beretta 92 or a Walther P5…
On any given day, the P9S might be one of them.
Ballistic Intuition
With the P9S, accuracy is something you feel.
The recoil impulse—distilled into a seamless infinitude of kinetic truth—informs, engages, implores, edifies and…
Enlightens.
AAAUUUUUUMMMMBANG!
Be one with the gun
There’s no question as to when, where and how your shot will hit. You know. Because the gun tells you. With every fiber of its stamped, screwed, welded, roller-delayed being.
The SA trigger’s slack lets up to a firm wall—which breaks cleanly and predictably. It’s nothing special. It’s nothing earth-shattering. But it doesn’t need to be.
AAAUUUUUUMMMMBANG!
The muzzle barely rises. The slide’s reciprocating mass registers, thoughtlessly, in your subconscious. The ergonomics are simplistic and unpretentious. Neutral, you might say. The single-stack grip affords ample engagement with all facets of the hand and a very manageable trigger reach in SA.
AAAUUUUUUMMMMBANG!
The gun, the shot, the target—it all bypasses the senses, manifesting as pure intuition. And, before long, you realize that you’re not shooting the gun. You’re just…
Shooting.
Willing bullets into holes. Excising bullseyes from silhouettes. Imposing ballistic destiny upon your target.
50 rounds @ 10 yards, SA
Much the same as a devout Buddhist “unlearns” the duality of self and reality, the P9S blurs the line between you and the shot you’re taking.
It’s probably the closest you’ll come to firing 9mm bullets out of your own hands.
And you know what? It’s 100% reliable, too.
Roll-liable Reliability
At least it has been for me, in ~400ish rounds. Never one malfunction of any kind, with any ammo—even cheap remanufactured _hit and a smattering of random JHPs.
Now, I’ll say the gun does get dirty as you’re shooting. But that’s just a reality of shooting without a locked breech. More gunk gets blown back onto the feed ramp and the breech face. But it’s the same deal with MP5s and G3s; they’re known to run pretty “dirtily.”
But they’re also known to run.
And run and run and run. HK doesn’t make guns that don’t work.
I tend to think the rolling nature of the Vorgrimler action allows it to “glide” through muck and soot better than some actions. You’ve probably got less friction, thus fewer opportunities for moving parts to get hung up by excess crud.
Also interesting…
The P9S’s extractor is mounted at the top of the breech face. You don’t see that too often; and I’m not sure why, honestly.
Big honkin’ extractor at the top of the breech face
Because it just seems more direct, when you consider the geometry of the feed cycle. As the rear-end of the round kicks up, it hits the overhead extractor claw head on—as opposed to slipping under the claw halfway through the feed cycle, while the round is still cocked at a fairly steep angle.
The Beretta 1934/35 and the P-08 Luger are the only other pistols that I know use top-mounted extractors. Not sure what makes those (along with the P9S) candidates for overhead extraction vs. virtually every other pistol in existence. Loose Hypothesis: Maybe you get more of a push-feed situation (vs. controlled feed) with an overhead extractor? Not sure.
But, with the P9S, one can be sure…
It definitely works.
Double-Action Dissatisfaction?
If you spend any time perusing forum posts on the P9S, you’ll inevitably come across your fair share of smug, jaded complaints on its double-action trigger.
And, yes—by most conventionally accepted metrics, the P9S’s DA trigger blows.
It’s really heavy. It’s really long. And it feels something like a stapler that’s powered by rubber bands. Not an exaggeration. But here’s the thing:
I shoot it well in DA.
Better than many of my DA/SA guns, actually.
While it is heavy, it’s consistent (though I suppose “smooth” is a stretch). There’s no stacking, sticking or hitching. Also, the pull leads right up to the break—which drops the hammer cleanly and gently. No overtravel. No jump, jerk or jostle.
And you know what? You hit what you’re aiming at. Even though the pull feels fairly… odd.
But to get gun in double action, you’ve gotta decock it.
Contrary to popular belief, decocking the P9S is NOT Suicide
Admittedly, decocking this gun is… different. The safety lever on the slide does NOT decock the gun. It’s just a safety. So, you’ve gotta hold down the frame-mounted lever with your thumb, while you… [horror-esque orchestral stabs]
Pull the trigger.
Then you let the lever out slowly, and release the trigger.
The P9S gets ridiculed for this. Like it was designed by “noble savages” in an uncivilized dark age where the egalitarian principles of modern gun safety (which include carrying fully cocked striker-fired pistols with no safety) did not yet exist.
And it’s all BS.
Because you’re supposed to engage the safety when you decock the thing. HK even TELLS you this in the manual:
“Engage the safety, press down the cocking lever, pull the trigger…”
See? Proof HK doesn’t hate you. They care. They really care.
It’s honestly pretty easy to do—I show it in my video review.
But even if you F up and pull the trigger before you depress the lever, the safety blocks the hammer and it’s impossible for the gun to fire. Honestly, with the safety on, you don’t even have to depress the lever at all: just pull the trigger, the hammer will fall against the safety block. Voila: decocked. No bang. But HK warns this approach is hard on the parts. Seems fair.
But here’s the really cool part…
You can actually cock the hammer with the same lever! That sentence definitely needed an exclamation point. In fact, HK refers to the lever as the “cocking lever.” Though it does—as previously noted—play a role in decocking, while also actuating the slide lock.
All that said, if you don’t want to deal with HK’s 1970s approach to cocking and decocking…
Just carry it cocked and locked. Load it. Flip the safety on. And go about your day. From what I’ve read, this was a very popular way to carry the P9S. I carry mine decocked, in DA. But that’s me.
Feel vs. Feel
When I think of how the P9S shoots, I think of the Beretta PX4.
Not because they shoot the same way. But because—through different means—they both yield the same result:
Seamless, intuitive accuracy that’s predicated on feel.
PX4 / P9S celebrity photo op
The P9S achieves that by bringing you closer to the shot—to the fundamental forces of ballistic energy—while filtering out the abrasive “thump” typical of blowback operation.
The PX4, on the other hand, transforms the recoil into a plush, pillowy sensation that’s incredibly engaging and communicative.
The P9S is more visceral, whereas the PX4 plays more to the senses. But they both work. And they both feel kinda like magic in terms of how they translate aim into accuracy. In that respect, they’re among the best I’ve found, as far as just putting rounds into a single hole.
But then again…
I’ve never shot a P7.
Is There Heaven in a P7?
I’ll be honest, I feel somewhat remiss: I have exactly zero trigger time with a P7. It’s basically the poster child for hipster guns—and I’m trying to be the poster child for gun hipsters.
Sigh.
The gun-hipster grail (why, “yes”—I mix religious metaphors in gun reviews) (Wikipedia)
But, for the prices they’re commanding, I think P7s have sorta crossed the threshold into full-on collector’s items—and I’m not a “collector,” per se. I just wanna shoot cool, interesting guns that bring something “unique” to the table, for as little cash as possible.
Speaking of unique things in handguns…
Putting fixed-barrels in service-grade pistols was sorta HK’s “thing” back in the day.
Throughout the ‘70s, they devised increasingly clever ways to forego locked-breech mechanisms in “full-power” handguns. This, of course, began with the P9S, continued with the VP70’s “blow-by rifling” concept, then culminated with the P7’s legendary gas-delayed blowback system—which is probably the most conceptually elegant of all HK’s breech-lock workarounds.
So…
Does the P7—with its gas-delay system—make it a better shooter than the P9S?
I dunno. Drop a comment if you have an opinion. I’d love to hear it.
Regardless, I will say this: I’d be surprised if the P7 shot better than the P9S—which is among the very best-shooting pistols I’ve experienced. And, from anecdotes I’ve read, I’m not alone in having that perspective.
But, as fantastic as the P9S is (and it IS fantastic), it ain’t perfect.
No Compromise
Yup. One faces some compromises with the P9S. Sorry, HK—it’s true. Though, in fairness, the P9S was around before HK embraced that tagline. Or loaded magazines backwards.
So, here’s a list of things I find annoying about the P9S:
1. The _ucking Recoil Buffer
No doubt, you’ve read about it. It always comes up in forums and reviews. People casually talk about checking it and changing it—like it’s as easy as changing your briefs.
It’s not. It’s more like changing an oversized bu_t plug. Because it’s a pain in the ass. And if you buy a P9S, it’s something you’ve gotta deal with.
The buffer housing mounted in the frame (it’s the flat part behind the screw)
In the off chance you have no idea what I’m talking about…
The P9S uses a polyurethane recoil buffer to “assist” its legendary roller-delay system in attenuating recoil. Which is fine—I appreciate buffers as much as the next guy. But the PU degrades over time and it’s gotta be changed periodically. And unless you know FOR SURE someone changed it—somewhat recently—you’ve gotta get in there and (probably) replace yours before you shoot it. Otherwise, you’ll peen up the slide and frame.
The slide on mine actually shows signs of being shot with a bad/nonexistent buffer. Mine survived. But don’t put yours through that.
You can see the peening on the cross-bar in the front of the slide
The buffer is hard to access because it’s hidden inside this dumb metal compartment, which is screwed together in a dumb way. And it’s hard to install—it’s one of those infuriating 3-handed tasks. Plus, certain aspects of the process are just unclear unless you’ve done it before.
You can only see the rear end of the plastic buffer when it’s shoved inside the housing; the slide impacts on those pointy “ears”
I will post a video about my experience attempting to change the buffer, so you have—hopefully—some frame of reference as far as how to approach it. It’s just not worth trying to explain in detail, here.
The rest of the gun is so brilliantly and elegantly engineered—it seems like they kinda “mailed it in” on this feature: “Yeah, throw a piece of plastic in a slot. Put a few screws in it. Wir gut.”
I don’t presume to know a ton about designing mechanical devices… but… a more streamlined/plug-and-play solution doesn’t seem like it would have been too much to ask.
2. The Front of the Grip
…was so freakin’ uncomfortable, I Dremeled it.
As it comes, it has a very squared-off profile; the vertical edges really dug into my fingers when I gripped hard. I mean, maybe I’m just a wuss. Nevertheless… it sucked. So endeavored to correct it.
At first, I put a strip of stick-on foam on the front strap. That did help. But, damn… those edges were just begging to be rounded off via “rotary exfoliation.”
Now, the grip’s front strap is NOT part of the gun’s actual (metal) frame. Again, it’s part of the removable polymer housing that comprises the front strap, the trigger guard and the dustcover. So, it’s an easily replaceable part, upon irreparable bubba-fication.
With that air of reassurance fresh in my mind, I proceeded…
Even a _hitty Dremel job beats dealing with those freakin’ edges
And, I tell ya, it improved the gun tremendously. I did breach the polymer slightly, in one spot. But as good as the gun feels now, I don’t care. Like I said, I can always order another trigger-guard/front strap-assembly and do a better job recontouring that one.
3. The Weird, Proprietary Part Quotient (Especially Screws)
The P9S seems to have a higher share of specialized small parts than most guns—most of which are critical to making the gun run. Obviously, the buffer and the trigger-guard/front-strap thingy play into this. But the gun has 4 or 5 proprietary screws (one of which is actually a threaded bushing) that are basically impossible to find nowadays.
I mean… how many guns do you know of that are wholly “screw dependent” (other than common grip screws)? The P9S is one.
A few of my screws are already slightly buggered up, but still functional. The “screw quotient” doesn’t affect how the gun handles and shoots, of course. But it’s something to consider if you plan on using one of these guns, long-term.
In my mind, those are the gun’s major flaws. No gun is perfect. And, honestly, none of the above has any bearing on the P9S’s preeminent merit:
It’s one of the best-shooting service pistols ever made.
The Malaysian Sensation
And that’s clearly what the Malaysian Royal Police thought—because they issued the P9S for years.
Mine was one of them.
These are known to HK nerds as the “Malaysian Contract” guns. A batch of them came over from Malaysia maybe 5 or 6 years ago, through Centerfire Systems. There were all pretty beat up and well used. My gun came from that batch.
Now, the slide on mine has been refinished (not sure by whom) and most of the small parts were updated/replaced before I bought it. Fine by me.
Interestingly, though, the Malaysian Contract P9Ss are a little different than “normal” P9Ss…
In a “normal” P9S, the tip of the trigger would go slightly past the bump in the trigger guard (in DA)
They use a proprietary trigger shoe that makes the DA trigger reach shorter, as well as a different grip housing with less of an angle on the backstrap. I’ve heard the DA trigger reach in standard P9Ss is not exactly small-paw friendly. Fittingly, these guns are sometimes known as the “Kleinhand” (Short Hand) models. So, works for me… and my cherubic hands.
“Kleinhand” P9S grip on my gun, normal P9S grip on the right—you can see steeper angle on the Kleinhand grip
I’ve also noticed there are no serial numbers or proof marks on the barrel hood of my gun. Which is something I see on just about every photo of every P9S I come across on the internet. Mine also lacks a serial number on the slide, but I’m guessing that’s just because it was covered up when the gun was refinished.
It’s safe to say real collectors wouldn’t touch this gun with a 10-foot pole. But as good as this gun shoots, I ain’t worried ‘bout serial numbers, bro. Besides, getting any P9S for less than a grand these days is a rarity. I’m thrilled to have this one.
Also, this gun came with 8 legit HK mags. Literally. Those things sell for $60 a pop.
Practical Tactical?
Internet gun culture wants you to believe that carrying old guns for practical purposes is just… ludicrous.
“Why would you carry an expensive dinosaur like a P9S when you carry a brand new ______?!”
I challenge anyone who questions the merits of the P9S as practical self-defensive tool…
To shoot one.
I promise. It’ll make a case for itself. And—in addition to its sublime shootability—the gun has demonstrated 100% reliability. Even the beat-up, reconditioned example I have. In my opinion, any gun that combines intuitive shootability AND reliability is worth a look. Regardless of when it was made.
Moreover, the P9S has a fairly slender profile, overall. The slide is about the width of a 1911 slide—in other words, around 1-inch in thickness. It’s thinner than a Glock. It’s thinner than Sigs. It’s way thinner than Berettas, CZs and modern HKs. No, the gun isn’t exactly small. But it’s not too big. And, speaking from experience, it carries pretty comfortably in the appendix position.
He must work out…
But…
I think the P9S is one of the more difficult “legacy” platforms to keep running, from a parts standpoint. I’m not saying the guns aren’t durable or tough. Or that they’re necessarily “high maintenance.” I’m just saying you need to have certain parts on hand—namely buffers and possibly screws—if you plan on shooting these guns a lot. And, at some point, you’re gonna have to deal with buffer replacement.
All that said, I have full confidence in my P9S as a practical weapon.
Now, I don’t plan on pounding thousands of rounds through mine, year after year. But I don’t hesitate to carry it when I want a slim, highly accurate DA/SA pistol for a given outing.
As they say… your mileage may vary.
Meditative Reflection
Back in the ‘70s, the P9S was the best handgun in the world.
Is it still?
Alas, this might be the last chicken-wire photo on this blog (I moved)
The past 50 years have given us incredible advancements in firearms technology, engineering and innovation. The past 50 years have given us a mind-boggling wealth of variation and selection in handguns—likely far beyond what anyone could have imagined, back in 1973.
But there’s still one thing the past 50 years of handgun history has NEVER given us. And that is…
Anything that shoots quite like the HK P9S.
It was revolutionary then. It’s STILL revolutionary now. The roller-delayed system gives you a shooting experience that feels like nothing else (except the Korth PRS and the Korriphila HSP-701—neither of which you can afford). And, as your gun hipster guru, if you seek true spiritual growth as an “astute purveyor of pew”…
Seek an HK P9S. And ye may yet achieve:
9mm nirvana.
Truth, purpose, peace, P9S
Unless, of course, you get one in .45. In which case you’ll ruin the elegant alliteration of that statement.
Nevertheless, thank you so much for reading.
What are your thoughts on the HK P9S? Experiences? Opinions? Scathing condemnations on my review? Feel free to share below…
#hiptac
© 2023, Hipster Tactical
NOTE: I realize some people will type “H&K” as a search term when Googling the P9S. And, since I haven’t used “H&K P9S” anywhere in this article, I’m going to use it here—in a heading:
H&K P9S | And that’s just like saying: Heckler & Koch P9S
Yup. Google rules the world. Thanks for understanding.