Daewoo DP51 Review: K-Pop Wondernine Remix

If you grew up in the ‘90s, there are certain things that have been indelibly burned into your hippocampus: 

• The flag of the USSR descending for the last time. 

• Fruitopia.

• Denise Richards.

• Some guy yelling “THIS IS THE REMIX” followed by an existentially vexing airhorn.

Well, my fellow gun hipsters, this IS the remix. Of all your favorite ‘90s wondernines.

BEW-BEW-BEWWWWW!!!

And this one’s got a funky K-Pop vibe that’ll have you jammin’ to a whole new DA/SA groove. 

DAE-DAE-daewoo, woo, woo…

What makes the Daewoo DP51 hipster worthy? 

Solid, shootable and uniquely lovable, the DP51 reinvents the idea of the classic “wondernine” into something that’s fundamentally familiar, yet alluringly innovative. 

Korea has this unique talent for resurrecting the passe trends of Western civilization. But they’re not just doing the same thing over again—they make it better. And just a touch weirder. 

For instance… 

The Hyundai Veloster N looks like a phallic hunchback dolphin—but it kicks the sh_t out of GTIs and Mini Coopers. The Stray Kids have this half-emo/half-punk/quasi-gangsta’ vibe that makes all other boybands look like they’re doing it wrong. And gochujang is like the best barbecue sauce you’ve ever had, laced with chili peppers, a touch of taekwondo and possibly crack. 

And the Daewoo DP51??

It’s the classy, refined, go-to-war wondernine you still yearn for, in your gun-hipster heart.

Funked-up with some K-Pop quirk.

But first… let’s take it back to the old school.

A Classic Groove

The DP51 is a throwback to a time when things were straight-up built—from metal, pride, punches and hammers. It’s solid. Dense. Tough. When it’s in your hand, you get the sense that it… matters. To you. And to the people who made it.

No, it’s not fancy. No, it doesn’t scream “tactical.” It just feels like quality. 

And it looks like it feels: Tastefully utilitarian. 

The dark blue slide offers a subtle contrast to the matte gray frame—which has a resplendent slate-like anodizing that’s ever so slightly coarse, yet still smooooth. The entire gun exudes this sense of industrial elegance that just… works. It’s simple. Sophisticated. It looks like it was made by professionals, for professionals. 

My 1996 DP51C posing like a pop star

The Daewoo guns have a reputation for “military-grade” reliability. I’ve put around 1,000 rounds through mine and it has never choked on me. And I tend to think that’s the norm based on the anecdotes I’ve encountered.

Thus…

In its subjective character, the DP51 captures the essence of the classic wondernine.

If you don’t know, “wondernine” is a term of endearment used to describe the crop of high-capacity double-action/single-action service pistols that dominated the ‘80s and ‘90s. And—as we’ll discover—the DP51 takes inspiration from the very best in the wondernine genre. In fact, if you listen closely…

You can hear familiar “riffs” echoing through the mix.

Oppan Gangnam 3rd Gen Style! 

Thin slide. Classic proportions. Belled barrel. Press-fit bushing.

If you know Smith & Wesson’s “third generation” pistols—like the 5906 and 6906—you’ll catch the same kinda vibe in the DP51. There’s a very strong resemblance. In fact, Daewoo pistols generally run fine with S&W 59/69-series mags. Mine does. 

And in case you haven’t noticed… 

I have the DP51 Compact. It’s the size of S&W’s compact 6906/6904, as opposed to the larger 5906. However, I’m going to speak generally about the DP51 platform—which, in most respects, will also apply to the pistols sold by Lionheart Industries (e.g., LH9, Regulus, Vulcan). I’ll discuss the Lionheart guns later.

Major parts of the DP51C and S&W 6904—the similarities are obvious

But before we get ahead of ourselves…

The DP51 isn’t just a S&W cover performance:

• The fire-control setup is pure Beretta 92. As with the 92, the Daewoo’s trigger bar runs along the outside of the frame and engages the sear/hammer in pretty much the same way. And while the DP51 uses a unique hammer design for its DA+ system, the break itself feels very Beretta-esque… with that solid, satisfying “thwack.”

• The barrel-cam design takes cues from Sigs and CZs. Daewoo ditched S&W’s obscure “side lug” setup and went for a traditional open-slot cam path—kinda like a SIG Sauer P-Series pistol. But the DP51 cams on the slide stop, unlike a Sig, so the geometry is more like that of a CZ-75.

But none of those elements singularly define the experience, in terms of how the DP51 handles. To put it simply, it’s its own thing. Especially its trigger system. Which is about as unique as fermented cabbage on an all-beef hotdog (which I’ve had—it’s surprisingly good).

While Daewoo sampled S&W and Beretta, the DP51 is a unique composition

Twice the Double Action

If you find someone who has actually heard of the DP51, there’s a good chance they’ll know something about its funky trigger system. It’s sometimes called “Double Action Plus.” It’s sometimes called “Triple Action.” But no matter what it’s called, it’s always… 

Kinda neat. 

Getting down to brass tacks, here… 

The gun uses a hinged hammer. So, once you cock the hammer, you can shoot it in “normal” single-action mode… OR… you can flick the hammer forward, back into the DA position. But when you do that, the thing stays cocked. Even though the head of the hammer goes forward, the shank of hammer stays back, impinged by the sear. The hammer spring also remains fully compressed.

At this point, you’re in DA+ mode. Or whatever you wanna call it. 

So… 

When you pull the trigger, there’s zero resistance from the hammer spring (because it’s fully cocked). The head of the hammer snicks straight back to the SA wall.

Net: You get an SA break with a DA length of pull.

DA+ gives you “high-fidelity” accuracy on your first shot

Long but Light

The intent of this system—obviously—is to mitigate the heavy draw of a conventional DA trigger, while retaining a “safe” length of pull. We’ll discuss the questionable necessity of the DP51’s manual safety, later.  

In some ways, the DA+ system resembles the SFS trigger system, originally developed for the Browning Hi Power MKIII. However, with the SFS system, the manual safety controls the hinged hammer; you can’t just flick the hammer forward and pull the trigger, like you can on the Daewoo. 

Now, the DP51 still has a “normal” DA trigger mode. It’s heeeeeavy. And it requires you to manually decock the gun. But—other than a second-strike situation—there’s no reason to use it, since you have DA+. So, end of discussion. 

Yes, it’s different. But I tell ‘ya—it works as advertised. With the right technique, you give up no accuracy versus a standard SA trigger pull. 

But before we get into shooting and handling (which is awesome, BTW)…

Let’s discuss how—and why—the Republic of Korea cooked up this freaky, funky, genre-busting mashup of a service pistol.

Have Guns, Will Resist Communism 

When you share a border with a terrifying Stalinist autocracy… 

Weapons—both in terms of availability and quality—become pretty important. Such is the case with South Korea (i.e., The Republic of Korea). 

After the Korean war, the ROK’s military and police forces relied on a hodgepodge of leftover rifles and pistols. But in the early 1970s, Colt set up a factory in Seoul, known as the Pusan Arsenal. 

Initially, Colt/Pusan made M16s under license (and a few 1911s). However, the ROK’s contract with Colt imposed limits on the number of weapons they could produce. So, to end their dependance on foreign military hardware, they began a massive effort to design and deploy “home-grown” weapons.  

ROK forces with M16A1 rifles (Photo: NARA & DVIDS Public Domain Archive)

As design efforts proceeded, the government pumped money into native South Korean industrial interests—including Daewoo (which means “Great Woo,” so named for its founder). And in 1983, the Daewoo Group acquired the Pusan Arsenal from Colt. 

Which henceforth became known as “Daewoo Precision Industries.”

The ROK would leverage DPI, almost exclusively, to manufacture their new generation of indigenous weapons—including the K1 and K2 assault rifles, the K3 light machine gun and the K4 grenade launcher. 

But what about… pistols? 

Well, around this same time, the XM9 pistol trials were going on in the United States. And, apparently, the Koreans were paying attention.  

K5 Jive

By the end of 1984, as the US pistol trials were winding down…

…South Korea’s pistol-palooza was just getting started.

I wasn’t there. I wasn’t in the meetings. But I can imagine there was… a chart. A big, freakin’, hand-drawn chart. Replete with scribbles, arrows, highlights and coffee stains. And maybe some gochujang smudges.

On this chart, there were 3 columns:

• Smith & Wesson 459 (predecessor to the 5906)

• Sig P226

• Beretta 92F

Under each, there were—undoubtedly—pros and cons. And despite the irrefutable merits of both the 92 and the P226, S&W’s design had one critical advantage:

It wasn’t huge. 

Of all the classic wondernine platforms, S&W’s 59-series is the handiest. Overall, it’s reasonably compact, slim and maneuverable—not to mention lightweight, when you opt for an alloy frame. Plus, it fits a wide variety of hands, offering shallow grip dimensions and a reasonably short trigger reach.

And…

With a few tweaks (based on lessons learned in XM9), S&W’s design proved it could match Beretta and Sig in terms of reliability. Moreover—with the launch of their compact M469 in 1982—S&W had shown that the M59 architecture could easily scale to different form factors. Bonus. 

Mastering the Mix

So, given all that… 

I think we begin to see why DPI used the M59 as the template for their new handgun. Though, as mentioned, DPI also incorporated recognizable elements from other leading service pistols of the day.

Totally rad wondernine mixing session

By 1989, the K5 was ready to enter service with the ROK. 

Allegedly, the ROK subjected the K5—and all K-Series weapons—to intense reliability testing. I can’t find actual examples of what was done, but given the reputation these guns have, I’m sure it was pretty badass.

I have heard “rumors” that early iterations of the K5 had accuracy issues, due to improperly rifled barrels. But, I certainly don’t perceive anything less than excellent accuracy with my pistol—nor have I gleaned that others who own these guns experience substandard accuracy.

Obligatory Wikipedia image of a full-size K5/DP51

In the ‘90s, Daewoo exported the K5 commercially, as the DP51. They even cooked up a nifty compact version—which is exactly what we have here.

And let me tell ya’… this joint is a banger.  

Literally. 

A Groove, Slightly Transformed

When you grab a DP51…

You’re treated to the broad, meaty feel of an ‘80s/’90s double stack. Yet it seems… more intimate. Yes, all DP51/Lionheart variants offer a short trigger reach. But the compact model—which uses a straight backstrap, unlike the full-size—has the shortest trigger reach I’ve ever experienced on a double-stack pistol. 

It’s insane. 

You raise the gun. You line up your sights. You definitely get some 5906/6906 feelz. But with a slightly different tune…

If you have small hands, the DP51C’s short trigger reach will feel… like you’ve come home

Everything seems a touch more precise. More dialed in. You feel closer. Not only to the trigger, but to the gun itself. And to the shot you’re about to take.

BANG!

Firm wall. Snap-tastic break. To me, it feels a lot like a Beretta 92’s SA—which makes sense, if you look at the sear and trigger linkages.

And while the recoil makes itself known… it’s powerless against your utterly secure grip. 

BANG! BANG!

Yeah, the compact DP51 has some snap. More than a 6906. And more than a full-size DP51 (so I’ve heard). 

But even with my baby-gurl hands, I’m able to completely envelop the DP51C’s grip. The straight backstrap and the short trigger reach conspire to create an ergonomic Eden for small-handed people. It’s wide enough for lateral support, but shallow enough for a full “wraparound”; the pistol feels completely captured in my hands.

And with modern G10 grips from Lionheart Industries… 

The gun. Does. What. I. Want. 

BANG! BANG! BANG!

The holes begin to cloverleaf. Maybe I’ve had too much coffee. Maybe I’m stressed, rushed or having a bad hair day. But it doesn’t matter. All I gotta’ do is grip this thing. Hard. It shoots a _uckin’ group where I want it.

50 rounds @ 10 yards—sorry about those low-left flyers

I can’t say it offers anything “magical” in terms of the shooting feel. It’s a wondernine with a tilt barrel. And it feels like a wondernine. With a tilt barrel.

But Daewoo took “conventional” and made it more “accessible.” Sharper. Leaner. Tighter. And maybe… just a bit smarter.

In DA+ We Trust

As I mentioned before, Daewoo’s DA+ system isn’t just a gimmick. It works. And, specifically, it delivers on the promise of mitigating the inherent heaviness of a conventional DA trigger.

That said…

I’ve found shooting the DA+ system requires its own technique. Here’s what gives me the best results:

1. I start the pull as if it were a normal double action pull. Slow, even pressure.

2. When the hammer snicks back to the SA position, I don’t just let it shoot—but I don’t stop the pull, either.

3. I measure my pressure against the SA wall, as if I’m continuing the same trigger stroke I began in step 1. The pressure builds and the hammer falls, seamlessly and cleanly. 

I get nice tight groups out of it, this way. Honestly tighter than decocking between shots, on most conventional DA/SA guns.

It’s tempting to stop your pull when the hammer snicks back, then kinda “start over” at the SA wall. Initially, that’s how I approached the DA+ system. But I never achieved good results that way. Though, of course, YMMV.

And while you get the length of a true DA pull with DA+…

It’s still a single action trigger, at heart.

Unless you manually decock, the DP51 is always technically cocked… will you lock?

Cocked, locked or… not?

When you have a Daewoo / Lionheart pistol in DA+ mode, even the tip of your pinky delivers enough force to trip the sear. To me, it’s not a 1-to-1 replacement for a true DA trigger pull. Thus, I use the manual safety when I carry my Daewoo in DA+ mode.

And while you might wonder “what’s the point” of DA+ if you’re gonna use a safety…

If you look at DA+ as a smarter way to carry cocked and locked, I think it makes a lot of sense. It’s a bit more secure, in the event the safety gets inadvertently deactivated. And it puts a touch of “détente” between you and a hole in your target. Yet it’s still—in most respects—more shootable than a true DA pull.

In all, I think it’s a well-executed system and it has served the ROK well since 1989.

In fact…

The DA+ system outlived Daewoo itself.

The Big Breakup

Like so many great pop bands, the Daewoo Group eventually broke up. I mean, it’s usually because of “creative differences.” But this breakup was 100% because of the Asian financial crisis of the late 1990s.

So, yeah. After 1997, no more DP51s in the US.

At least for a while…

Daewoo Precision Industries (the defense arm of Daewoo) spun-off into an independent company—S&T Motiv—and continued making K5/DP51 pistols after Daewoo imploded. By 2012ish, S&T began exporting its fine handguns to the United States once again. But under an entirely new brand name:

Lionheart.  

The Lionheart LH9 Series

Instead of recycling the DP51 nomenclature, Lionheart Industries sold their imported K5s as the LH9 and LH9C. Lionheart also spiffed-up the guns with some modern bells and whistles: cerakote finish, front slide serrations, cool branding, cool grips, upgraded sights, etc.

Lionheart LH9C—the 2010s version of the DP51C (Photo from Lionheart)

And while Lionheart didn’t hide the fact they were selling Korean guns, they didn’t exactly shout it, either.

Nevertheless…

I think most Lionheart customers had a pretty good idea of what they were buying: rebranded K5/DP51 service pistols. And anyone who knew enough to know that… knew that K5 pistols were excellent guns.

In fact, I fully planned on spending $700+ on a brand-new Lionheart LH9C—because I loved my S&W 6904 and I wanted to experience a “fresh take” on that design.

Then…

I saw this lovely DP51C for $350 on Gunbroker. Same gun, bro. Half the price.

Another thing worth noting…

If you have an OG Daewoo-branded pistol, you can still buy brand new parts from Lionheart. I bought these dope G10 grips, a fresh recoil spring and a brand new 10-round mag from Lionheart. They all function perfectly. Plus, Lionheart—as a company—has always been responsive and helpful if I’ve had to ask questions.

The Regulus Era

Around 2019ish, the imports from S&T ceased and Lionheart began manufacturing Daewoo-pattern pistols in the United States. Presumably under license. Lionheart embraced a new sub-brand for the domestically produced guns:

“Regulus.”

Later-model Regulus pistol (Wikipedia)

I think the Regulus guns were solid pistols. After all, they were basically facsimiles of the Korean guns. But they were twice the price, bruh. I’m talking $1,400 – $1,500.

They tried to justify those prices by touting high-end features—like titanium-nitride barrels with single-point machining. But… I just don’t think 20- and 30-something gun hipsters were willing to fork over that kinda cash.

Nevertheless, the Regulus wasn’t the last of Lionheart’s “Gangnam-style” pistols.

The Vulcan Era

Around 2020, Lionheart closed shop in Washington and opened a new operation in Georgia. There may have been a change in ownership? Not 100% sure.

Lionheart produced a slightly different version of the Regulus in Georgia, for about a year. Then, in 2023, they introduced an entirely new line of domestically produced Daewoo-derived pistols:

The Vulcan Series.

2023 Lionheart Vulcan 9

The Vulcan is even MORE pimped-out than the Regulus. And even MORE expensive. Gratuitous slide chiseling. Optics ready. G10s with integral frame-mounted thumb rests. Again, the Vulcan is still a K5/DP51 at heart—that now looks like it was issued to Romulan separatists in the late 24th century.

Don’t get me wrong, I’d love to have one. But the prices they’re asking are beyond me. Maybe they’re planning to pave the way with a high-end model… then trickle down to us working-class hipsters with something more prosaic? Time will tell.

Speaking of time…  

More Than a One-Hit Wonder(nine)

Daewoo’s design has stood the test of it… surviving multiple iterations, variations, brandings and re-brandings. Plus, it still serves with the ROK’s armed forces, as well as with other military/police agencies around the world (including Guatemala, Indonesia, Singapore and Thailand).

Clearly, the gun has persisted because…

It’s good.

Sure, we all know plenty of good guns that have come and gone. But when it comes to the DP51 design, I tend to think there’s a subjective sense of appeal that transcends mere specs and features. The DP51 feels good. It shoots good. And it’s just… 

Kinda catchy.

Vibin’ with the DP51C never gets old

It’s the remix you never get tired of replaying. And I’ve enjoyed having this one on repeat while I’ve written this review.

BEW-BEW-BEWWWWW!!!

Thanks so much for reading.

What are your thoughts on the Daewoo DP51? Experiences? Opinions? Scathing condemnations on my review? Feel free to share below…

#hiptac

© 2024, Hipster Tactical  

Sig P226 Review: Tactical Gourmet

A jaunty violin tune frolics through the US SOCOM loadout room.

“Pardon me,” implores one heavily bearded operator to another. “Do you have a P226?”

“But of course,” replies a similarly manscaped specimen, handing over a Sig Sauer MK25—the amphibious warfare variant of the P226.

With that…

The violins crescendo. Our operators proceed to operate in operational harmony—their Sig P226 pistols bringing a tasteful sense of refinement to clandestine battlefields the world over.

The finer things

Yes, the Sig Sauer P226 is the wondernine of choice for discerning connoisseurs of tactical finery. With it, comes an air of elitism that few production-grade handguns—even the illustrious HK USP—can match.

I’ve owned two P226s in my career as a gun hipster (and a pile of other P22X Sigs). And I think they’re _ucking great. No sarcasm. No BS. No coy double entendres.

Sig P226s are just good. That’s the indisputable truth. So, if that’s what you’ve come here for, “thank you, come again.”

BUT the fact remains…

Dijon mustard really isn’t anything fancy, if we’re being honest. And, in lieu of that deliciously abstruse metaphor, let us address the all-important question the gun hipsters of Earth yearn to understand.

What makes the Sig P226 hipster worthy?

Functional yet refined, the Sig P226 exemplifies “good taste” in combat handguns—though its original recipe prioritizes substance over flavor.

Carl Jung often spoke of the “collective unconscious”—a hidden layer of vague, preconceived ideas that we all share, as human beings. If there’s a collective unconscious for gun hipsters…

The Sig P226 is definitely up in that b!tch.

Holding a legit West German P226 feels quintessential. It taps into some deeply engrained archetype of what it means to be “tactical.” It feels solid. It feels tough. Yet it also feels refined… exuding a sense of utilitarian elegance that the early Sigs capture so well.

It makes Glocks seem cheap. It makes 1911s seem petty. 

Stoic beauty—and G10 grips

The slide racks with effortless efficiency. The trigger breaks with cool, crisp confidence. Everything about it feels precise and purposeful. Just holding it… nay, wielding it… you think to yourself…

“Man, this is what a combat pistol is SUPPOSED to feel like!”

Then, you shoot it.

And it’s…

It’s…

Well…

Just fine.

Understated Excellence

Okay, “anticlimactic” feels a bit melodramatic. 

But still… there’s a part of me that expected some sort of religious experience the first time I shot a P226. Yeah, it’s smooth. Yeah, it’s accurate. Yeah, it’s soft shooting and remarkably composed under recoil.

But there’s no fire in my loins, man. It’s just a nice, well-made gun with excellent accuracy and superb reliability. 

And… surprise, surprise…

That’s exactly what the good folks of Neuhausen am Rheinfall designed it to be.

Amen to the P210

To gun hipsters, the Sig P210 is like the 9mm messiah.

In its pious Swiss perfection, we see… an ideal. A moral imperative. A glimmer of hope, for the salvation of our errant shot groupings. The P210 stands alone as a peerless beacon of pretentious, Germanic, over-engineered redemption. 

A legit Swiss P210 (Photo: Wikipedia)

Almost exclusively hand-made (by enchanted Swiss gnomes), the OG P210 was painstakingly engineered for unmatched accuracy. Rumor has it… the holes in Swiss cheese are made with P210s. From 100 meters. One handed.

Yeah, the P210 is the end-all, be-all hipster pistol—I’d even put it ahead of the HK P7 in the cosmic pecking order of hipster guns.

Unfortunately, I can’t _ucking afford one. And, by the early 1970s, neither could the Swiss Army. Plus, the P210 was single action only… which just wasn’t groovy anymore in the ’70s.

Practical Tactical

So, Sig went to work on a new pistol.

One that could strike an acceptable balance between quality and affordability. To achieve that, Sig’s engineers—led by Eduard Brodbeck and Walter Ludwig—implemented 4 key design elements that saved major $$ with minimal loss of Swiss awesomeness:

• A slide made from folded sheet metal.

  HK’s P9S pioneered the use of stamped / folded construction in 9mm pistols. But Sig’s approach refined the execution, utilizing a simpler, boxier design and a pinned-in breech block that contained the breech face and firing pin.

• A barrel that’s “squared off” near the breech.

  So it can lock into the ejection port. This eliminated the need for concentric barrel lugs, which were notoriously complex in terms of machining/fitting—especially on a gun made to exacting tolerances, like the P210.

  Interestingly, Sig did not invent this concept; English engineer William John Whiting did, for Webley’s early semi-autos. Here’s a link to the 1906 patent.

• A Hi Power-style barrel cam.

  Instead of using the P210’s “closed-slot” cam path, Sig’s new design used an open-lug setup, more like what’s on a Browning Hi Power—probably because it’s easier to machine. It’s worth noting the CZ-75 continued with the P210’s closed-slot approach.

• Charles Petter’s bushingless muzzle design.

  On his M1935a pistol (which inspired the P210), Petter used a sloped aperture in the slide to support the barrel while allowing it to tilt. This precluded the need for a separate bushing—which would have to be independently machined / fit for accuracy.

Combining these 4 features with an alloy frame and a decockable DA/SA action (thanks, Sauer!), Sig had a thoroughly modern 9mm service pistol that wouldn’t break the proverbial Swiss bank.

They called it the P220. Which went on to sire the entire line of P22X-series pistols.

My P220 before I sold it—.45 P220s were intended for the US market, whereas European P220s were mostly 9mm

Unlike the P210, the new generation of P22X pistols would be branded “Sig Sauer”—because the Swiss had a little help from their friends at JP Sauer & Sohn, in Eckernförde Germany.

Now, I get the sense most of the P220’s design DNA came from Sig, in Neuhausen Switzerland. That said, the iconic Sig Sauer decocker is clearly a hand-me-down from the Sauer 38H pistol, used in WWII (though the 38H’s lever would also cock the gun). So, it’s safe to say Sauer was involved with the design to some degree.

Of course, Sig Sauer pistols were mainly manufactured by Sauer in Germany, to get around Switzerland’s export laws.

The P22X cam design moved away from the P210’s “closed slot” to an “open slot” (the .45 barrel is from an IMI Barak)—note the square-breech lockup on the Sig and IMI pistols

Defining a Legacy

In 1975, the Swiss Army formally adopted the 9mm P220 as the P75. Thus, the P210’s era of blissful hand-fit accuracy had come to an end. Sadly, the enchanted gnomes had to find other jobs (mainly in loansharking) and the cheesemakers had to stand a little closer.

But not much. Despite its plebian stampings and blocky profile, the P220 could still bullseye sh!t like a bauss. The “square breech” actually locked up tighter than a traditionally lugged design, unless there was extensive fitting / accurizing going on (as with the P210).

And that brings us to an important point about the Sig Sauer design…

The P22X pattern became the de-facto template for virtually all subsequent semiauto pistols.

How many pistols have you seen lately that DON’T use: 1. a square-breech lockup; 2. a Hi Power-style cam; and 3. a bushingless muzzle?

There’s a few, yeah. But not many. I guess folded slides aren’t really a thing anymore—but CNC machining these days is probably cheaper than… umm… folding a slide.

Anyway…

At the end of the day, the P220 incorporated all the BEST ideas for tilt-barrel pistols into one, simplistically elegant platform. Honestly, I don’t think Sig Sauer gets enough credit, in that regard.

The quintessential Sig Sauer pistol—with period-correct grips

Oh, and one more thing… 

Sig also designed a .45 version of the P220 for Americans. They basically never sold the 9mm P220 in the states. Which kinda sucks. But don’t feel left out, my fellow Americans—the next part of this story is allllll about us.

Attack of the Double Stack 

In the early 1980s, the US Military announced their desire for a new high-capacity, DA/SA service pistol. And every gun company in the world had the same thought:

“Cha-Ching.” 

Now, I’ll preface this by saying, “I wasn’t there.” I wasn’t in the meetings and the brainstorm sessions. And, honestly, details on the development of Sig Sauer products are kinda scarce. Nevertheless, I imagine it went something like this—but in German:  

“So, the Americans want a new high-cap, DA/SA service pistol. Beretta already has one.”

“Bro, just put a Browning Hi Power mag on the P220. We should be good, right?”

“Cool. Yeah.”

I mean, I’m sure there were other engineering considerations. But… yeah. That was basically it. And by 1981, Sig Sauer had a fully functional prototype of a double-stack P220.

They called it the P226.

XM9 on the Line

The XM9 trials are steeped in myth, legend and viscous globs of unqualified hearsay. Nevertheless, I will posit one unequivocal truth about the trials, as a whole:

As of 1984, the Beretta 92 and the Sig P226 were the ONLY two pistols worthy of the contract.

That’s about as close to a “fact” as Renee Descartes will let us get. In terms of reliability and durability, both guns were light years ahead of all the other competitors. And they’re both hella accurate.

Now, within those two outliers… was one better than the other?

That’s what I call a “good meal”

There’s this unofficial “soft-consensus” that the Sig P226 is better than the Beretta 92. You don’t have to look too far into forums, YouTube, blogs, etc. to glean that sentiment. I mean, the Navy SEALS (for instance) refused to adopt the Beretta and insisted on the P226.

That’s gotta mean something, right? Then again, there’s evidence to suggest the SEALS were using over-pressure ammo that caused their Berettas to fail, prematurely.  

I’ll say this…

In basic reliability testing, BOTH the Beretta 92 and the P226 fired 1,000 MORE rounds between stoppages (on average) than the next closest competitor. But hold up, bro… the P226 fired 1,000 MORE rounds between stoppages than the Beretta.  

Mean rounds between stoppages, 1984 (Source: ‘86 GAO Report):

• S&W 459: 434

• Beretta 92: 1,750

• Sig P226 (SACO): 2,877

Now, I’m guessing that’s just shooting under “normal” conditions. Because in mud tests, the 92 did better than the P226. Especially in the dry mud test (dry mud is _ucking dirt, right??). The 92 also demonstrated a slightly higher service life in the 1984 tests.

I dunno, man.

Personally, I don’t subscribe to the notion that one is “better” than the other. Personally, I think the army made a good choice, in adopting the Beretta 92 as the M9. And I think anybody who’s honestly used both platforms will tell you they’re both excellent pistols.

Well, except maybe the SEALs who ate broken Beretta slides for breakfast.

Speaking of Navy SEALs…

The Bomb dot SOCOM

In 1989, the US Navy SEALS adopted the Sig P226 as their standard-issue sidearm (dubbed the MK25). And, from the anecdotal “evidence” I’ve encountered, they were very happy with the pistol—which stands in contrast to Army reports, which often bemoaned the Beretta M9.

But, keep in mind… SEALs are high-level gun people with high-level gun skills; many Army recruits have zero experience with firearms. Plus, SOCOM units have a smaller number of guns to maintain and repair. And the DOD didn’t cheap-out on mags for Sigs, like they did on M9s.

So… 

While the M9’s reputation suffered, the P226 ascended—unscathed—into the lofty firmament of tactical legend. “Sig” became an icon of the elite.

Throughout the ‘80s and ‘90s, everyone saw Beretta 92s festooned across movie screens. But those who knew… knew that special forces favored the P226. As a brand, Sig Sauer lay just beyond the fold of “common knowledge”—and that made the P226 seem even more cool. 

When I was getting into guns, I wanted Sigs.

#SigLife

While Glocks got mad hype in the ‘90s, Sigs stayed just far enough outside the spotlight to retain an air of exclusivity. Sigs were classy operator / agency pistols. Sigs were German. Sigs were expensive… but not too expensive.

In that sense, Sig Sauer became the BMW of the gun world. Bougie, but still mainstream. And once Jack Bauer carried that two-tone Sig P229 (which occasionally became a P228), that was the pretty much the apex of Sig Sauer’s monopoly on tacticool sh!t in the early 2000s.  

But before you slather that tactical Grey Poupon everywhere…

Let’s not forget that the Sig Sauer P22X platform was designed to be simple, affordable and functional.

Functionally Fantastic

In fact, if I was allotted one word to characterize the definitive essence of Sig Sauer handguns, I’d choose “functional.” But “functional” doesn’t mean “bad.”

And in the case of Sig P22X pistols…

“Functional” feels precise.

“Functional” feels accurate.

“Functional” feels solid and dependable.  

“Functional” feels satisfying—in a stoic, no-BS kinda way.

And when I get this 1988 P226 in my hands—oozing with old-school German quality—all the candidly captivating attributes of “functional” come to life.

Creepy elves notwithstanding, a P226 in your hand feels like old-school quality

Tactical Machine

Taking aim with a P226, you’re imbued with a sense of purpose.

The broad, curvaceous grip melds seamlessly with the contours of your palm. The monolithic slide sits high above your hand, projecting a certain “mechanical majesty.” And when your fingertip comes to rest against the impressively tidy SA wall…    

It feels like you’re part of a machine. A machine designed to do tactical sh!t, with tactical precision, in a tactically efficient way.  

BANG!

No, it’s not gonna change your life. No, it doesn’t alter your consciousness or reach into your soul. It’s clean. It’s efficient. It’s transactional. Yet, in its own “Sig-ish” way…

BANG! BANG!

…it begs you to keep shooting.

Nice group—but it gets better…

The break is so crisp, it’s almost brittle. The succinct snap seems to say, “shoot me again”—just as the addictively clicky reset pushes your finger back to the break. I love the trigger on a Beretta 92, but it’s hard to say the SA break on the P226 isn’t better.

BANG! BANG! 

The recoil? It almost disappears.  

Into a soft jeté of muzzle rise. “Bore axis” critics tend to miss the bigger picture: more rise means less recoil energy gets imparted to the hand… at a slight cost in shot-recovery time.

And I mean slight. The sights recover naturally and effortlessly.

BANG! BANG! BANG!

You know the recoil is there. You know the muzzle is tipping back. But it’s seamless. It’s transparent. It’s almost…

Weightless.

A Pistol of Few Words

Whereas a Beretta 92’s recoil seems to flow—with a tangible sense of buoyancy—shooting a Sig can feel like you’re in a sensory-deprivation tank. Even the floaty “kerchunk” of a Ruger P89 offers a more communicative experience, in my opinion (don’t get me wrong—I love the P89.)

With a Sig, there’s just less information encoded into the recoil impulse. Less context. Less feedback. And sometimes…

You find yourself wondering why your last shot didn’t group with the others.

No doubt, it’s you. Not the gun. But a Sig is a man of few words when it comes to expressing tactile cues for accuracy. A Sig expects you to do your job; it ain’t gonna tell you how. One exception is the Sig P245—it gives you a big bubbly recoil impulse with feelz 4 daaayz. In that, it stands out among Sig Sauer pistols.

Of all my ‘80s wondernines, I’d say my Walther P88 Compact (also designed by Walter Ludwig) feels most like the P226 in terms of shooting dynamics—it has that cool, functional, no-nonsense disposition. In fact, I’d say the P88c has even more of a “clinical” feel than a Sig. Though I do think the P88 platform has slightly higher potential for accuracy, in an absolute sense.

Engineer Walter Ludwig had a hand in designing both pistols—as well as the Walther P5

Nevertheless…

My last range trip with this P226 yielded some of the most consistently accurate shooting I’ve done in recent memory. Holes stacked on holes. The bullseye on my target ceased to exist. The gun shot like a proverbial laser beam. It was _ucking glorious.

But it took a few trips to get those results.

And… it also took G10 grips. But not just any G10 grips.

Real Grips Have Curves 

I swore off double-stack Sigs for a few years. I even sold my first P226, back in 2019. And while Sigs represent my “first love” in handguns, the truth had become painfully clear:

I shot Berettas better.

In addition to its uniquely intuitive recoil dynamics, the Beretta 92 just works well for my teeny-weenie hands. The trigger reach is shorter (in both DA and SA) and the backstrap is straighter—thus, when I grip a 92, I feel like my hand gets INTO the gun…

…whereas I feel like I’m ON TOP of the gun when I grip a P226/P229. It never quite feels like I’m in absolute control (P239s, P225s and P245s are a different story).

Hogue’s “Contour Classic” G10 grips change that.

Hogue’s “Contour Classic” G10 grips offer a subtle curvature on the sides

Obviously, any G10 grip is going to be incredibly… grippy. Especially with Hogue’s “Piranha” texture. But the Contour Classic grips have more of a “curvaceous swell” on the sides. This gives your support hand more “meat” to push against when you’re stabilizing the pistol.

Once I threw the Hogue CCs on my P226, I couldn’t miss with the damn thing. I have the same grips on my P229. And while I find the P229 ever so slightly less accurate than the P226, it’s pretty much the same deal:

POA = POI = one ragged hole

After switching to the Contour Classic grips

Double-Action Distraction

By default, all early Sigs—like this P226—use a steel hammer strut with a steel mainspring seat. Which… how should I put this…

Kinda sucks.

I mean, it’s not terrible. But the pull is heavy and feels somewhat inconsistent through the stroke. In a way, the DA trigger on this P226 has what I’ll call a “reverse stacking” effect: it hesitates at the beginning of its motion, then skips to the break. It’s manageable. It’s useable. And it’s still probably better than what you’d get on a Beretta 92F from the same era.

But it’s not as good what you’d get from Smith & Wesson. Smith had their DA game on lock, back in the day.

However, getting a good DA pull on classic Sigs is easy.

Just order a “new-style” hammer strut and seat (search HAMMER-STRUT-8 and MAINSPRING-SEAT-2—most P22X Sigs will take the same parts). The new-style seat is plastic, and the new-style strut is some kinda glossy metal—both parts greatly reduce friction as the mainspring compresses. You can also order a lighter hammer spring from Wolff. But I’ve heard not to go below 19 lbs., lest you have light-primer strikes.

I performed this swap on my 1982 Sig P6, and it made a world of difference. And I’ve no ignition issues with the 19 lb. spring.

West German in Your Waist

Yeah, the P226 is big. And it’s heavy. You know this: it’s an ‘80s service pistol.

But it’s not terrible to carry. Even IWB.

While the slide isn’t as thin as what you find in a Smith & Wesson 5906 or an FN HP-DA, the P226 is waaay thinner than a Beretta 92 or a Ruger P89. And, thus, I find it more “carry friendly” than either of those.

The P226 does have a slightly longer grip than just about all its contemporaries, however. So, from that standpoint, it’s probably not quite as concealable… but it is reasonably comfortable.

If you want to carry a 1980s-style wondernine, the Smith 5906 is probably your best bet. Size wise, it’s more in line with a P229 or P228—with a thinner slide, to boot.

But you’re not here for insights on how a 40-year-old service pistol carries. If you’ve come this far, you’re here for…

Existential closure on corny culinary metaphors.

Tactical Gourmet?

Grey Poupon is good mustard. No doubt. Even after 40+ years, it still holds up.

Yet…

Despite what the iconic ads of the ‘80s and ‘90s have engrained into our collective psyche…

Grey Poupon is really nothing fancy. It’s a mainstream product, with a simple recipe that serves its purpose extremely well. And probably always will.

Just like the Sig Sauer P226.

Dining “al fresco” with the P226

If you want the most elite, most refined, most “snob-tastic” wondernine money can buy… get a Walther P88. If you want a wondernine that harkens back to a more “civilized” age, with a classically elegant silhouette… scrounge up an FN HP-DA / BDA9.

But if you want a wondernine that’s just plain, _ucking good. If you want a wondernine that makes no excuses, takes no sh!t and wins gunfights. If you want a wondernine feels like quality and shoots blow-your-mind groups with calm, collected efficiency…

You want an old-school Sig P226. And trust me…

You want an old-school Sig P226.

Thanks so much for reading.

What are your thoughts on the Sig Sauer P226? Experiences? Opinions? Scathing condemnations on my review? Feel free to share below…

#hiptac

© 2024, Hipster Tactical  

Ruger P89 Review: For What it Isn’t

“For what it is.”

That’s what you say when something doesn’t suck as much as you thought it would. That’s what you say about chain steakhouses, off-brand smartphones and all strip clubs located on Dixie Highway.

That’s what you say about the Ruger P89.

Wondernines like to chill on my patio.

“It’s a good gun. You know, for what it is.”

So then…

I suppose you’re expecting me to reframe that qualifier with a flattering appraisal of “what it is.” Sure. I could go that route. I could give you facts, opinions, anecdotes and bitchin’ adjectives (like “stalwart”). I could tell you how I WANT you to feel about the P89.

But I’m not. At least not yet.

Instead, I’m gonna start this review by telling you what the P89 ISN’T. And that—my fellow gun hipsters—brings us to the question you’ve all been patiently agonizing over.

What makes the Ruger P89 hipster worthy?

Despite its “budget-gun” pretentions, the P89 in no way constitutes a compromise in terms of accuracy, reliability, quality or anything else that actually matters in a service pistol.

I almost titled this review “no compromise.” Sorry, HK.

Because that’s what everyone thinks the P89 is: a trade-off, a concession, a halfway decent gun on a Pabst Blue Ribbon budget.

But I’m here to tell you the P89 ISN’T a compromise.

Nor is it “halfway decent”—it’s all-the-way _uckin great. And not just “for the money,” “for what it is,” or any other vague approximation of cheapness you care to use as a pretense.

By every objective metric, the P89 holds its own with any of the big-name service pistols that originated in the so-called “wondernine era.” In fact, Ruger designed the P-Series guns to compete in the U.S. Military’s XM9 trials of the 1980s… alongside the Beretta 92, the Sig P226, the Walther P88 and the FN HP-DA.

But to really understand the P89, you have to understand Ruger, as a company.

Thus, I have prepared a sufficiently snarky—reasonably pithy—chronicle of thematically relevant points on the history of Sturm, Ruger & Co.

Which begins… right after this sexy picture.

Concrete, brick, stainless… yessss

Casting a New Vision

Ruger’s “thing” is investment casting. 

It’s what made Ruger different. It’s what made Ruger successful. It’s what made Ruger… 

Ruger.

Long story short, pouring molten metal into a mold (i.e., casting) is cheaper than pounding metal into a given shape (i.e., forging). Casting gets you closer to the shape of the finished part, so there’s less machining and less scrap. Plus, you can cast more stuff more quickly.

Also…

The term “investment” in “investment casting” simply means that molten metal is… ahem…  “invested” into a hollow mold. In case you were wondering. In fact, you can learn all about Ruger’s casting process on YouTube. They’ve got a cool multi-part series with a lot of technical detail.

So, yeah—casting is pretty awesome. And so are the profit margins, if you’re selling cast sh!t and all your competitors are selling forged sh!t.

Which begs the question:

Why didn’t anyone make cast guns for, like, the first 500 years of guns?

Because castings aren’t as strong as forgings. And guns? Well, they need to be strong. Because… “bang.”

William B. Ruger, Sr.—his son (also William) took over in 2000 (Wikipedia)

But in the early 1950s, William B. Ruger said “to hell” with the voice of metallurgical reason. He showed up at jewelry store in Brooklyn NY (before Brooklyn was all yoga studios and kombucha bars) and he was like, “Yo, you guys know how to cast stuff, right? Can we cast a revolver?” 

As logic would dictate, they laughed. Maybe it was more of a droll snicker? We’ll never know. But we do know that—somehow—Bill convinced these ardent casters of rings and bling to try making a gun. 

The first few attempts sucked. But they improved their process: better quality control, better heat treating. And finally… they ended up with a dandy .22 caliber revolver:

The Ruger Single Six. 

Ruger Single Six Revolvers (Wikipedia)

The quality was good. The price was right. The thing sold well.

Unfortunately, Bill’s business partner—Alexander Sturm—passed away around this time. Yet, Bill wanted his friend’s name to continue on as a part of the company he helped found. So, it was officially “Sturm, Ruger & Co” from then on. 

But I’ll just say “Ruger” when I refer to the company. Cool? Cool.

As time went on, Ruger expanded its casting capabilities and opened one of country’s largest foundries, known as “Pine Tree Castings.”

More importantly… 

Ruger began designing firearms from the ground-up to utilize investment-cast construction. In other words, they allowed the unique properties of investment casting to inform a gun’s design, instead of retrofitting a forged design to be cast.

Ruger Security Six in .357 Mag. Note the beefy frame—especially the top strap.

Generally, this meant designing bigger, beefier parts that could match (or exceed) the strength of a comparable forged part. As a result, Ruger’s DA revolvers—launched in 1972, with the Security Six—were every bit as tough as forged offerings from Colt (like the Python) and Smith & Wesson. And considerably less expensive.

The LE contracts rolled in.

So, life was good. Cops were buying revolvers. Ruger was making money. Run DMC and Grandmaster Flash were rocking ghetto blasters everywhere.

Then…

The US military decided they wanted a new service pistol.

Leaning service pistols against light fixtures did not factor into the Army’s testing protocol.

Breaking the Mold

Yeah. That was another casting pun. Molds? Casting?

Sigh.

Anyway…

Bill Ruger envisioned a high-quality service pistol that could undercut competitors on price, while giving nothing up in terms of performance—all thanks to his company’s casting capabilities. After all, the “quality for less” strategy had served him well for over 30 years. Why wouldn’t it work for a U.S. military contract?

But… 

No one had ever attempted to make a fully cast semi-auto pistol before. Then again, no one had made a fully cast revolver either—until Ruger did.

So, how hard could it be? 

Well, I wasn’t there. But I’m gonna guess it was pretty hard.

In any case, here’s what I can tell you about the design—which ultimately became the Ruger P85 and subsequently spawned an entire line of “P-Series” pistols (including my spiffy P89). 

Like Ruger’s DA revolvers, this new bottom-feeding behemoth had to be super thick and beefy. Because, again, castings generally can’t match similarly sized forgings in terms of strength. So, given the stresses imparted to semi-auto slides, they gave this thing a bodaciously buxom top-end that even Dolly Parton would envy.

BBS - Big, Beautiful Slide.

And you know what they say about big slides…

Big barrel-locking surfaces.

I’m not sure they say that. But they should—because Ruger’s P-Series guns use gigantic barrel hoods that lock into correspondingly gigantic ejection ports. It’s similar to what you see on P2XX Sigs, but bigger, bolder and Ruger-ier. P-Series barrels are also 100% cast. Early P85s used a two-piece barrel construction, while later P85s and P89s went to a one-piece setup.

P226s got hood envy—and link envy.

Moreover, P-Series extractors, triggers, hammers and other internal parts are all commensurately huge and—presumably—also made from castings. Though, I think some of the levers (and the ejector) might be stamped. Not 100% sure.

But…

As bulky as the slides on P-Series pistols are, the frames are even thicker.

The alloy frame on my P89 is like a double-hulled Soviet nuclear-missile submarine. Only smaller. Barely. And not Marxist. And while my Beretta PX4 and my Sig P229 actually have wider slides than my P89, the P89 wins handily in overall width, thanks to its monolithically massive frame.

Now, it’s important to note that P-Series frames are made from cast aluminum. Nearly all aluminum-framed pistols use forged/machined billets for frames. Obviously, aluminum isn’t as strong as steel. And cast aluminum—I’m guessing—isn’t as strong as forged aluminum.

So, I think that’s why we see such massively thick frames on Ruger P-Series guns.

Forged schmorged. Also, the slide stop pin is captured—which is dope.

Also interesting…

Ruger P-Series pistols use a 1911-style swinging link to cam the barrel. Once JMB and Saive designed the linkless cam in the Hi Power, the swinging link fell out of favor… until it showed up on the P85. Maybe cast camming lugs couldn’t handle the pressure? Who knows.

However, on later P-Series guns, Ruger did switch to a proprietary linkless system on certain .40 & .45 models. I’m guessing—like so many other handgun designs—the pressures of .40 forced engineering changes that weren’t necessary for 9mm… or even .45 in some cases.

Just in Time for XM9?

By 1984, Bill and his engineers had realized their bold vision of a courageously corpulent all-cast wondernine. By all indications, it matched any other pistol in terms of strength and durability. And, in retrospect, it probably exceeded most: Ruger P-Series pistols have proven to be some of the toughest semi-autos ever made.

And, per Bill’s vision, the guns were much cheaper to produce.

Hangin tough. HUH!

Unfortunately, though… 

The prototype wasn’t ready for the rigors of military testing. And Bill knew it. So, he decided not to enter the XM9 pistol trials in 1984, lest his nascent pistol make a poor showing and tarnish his company’s reputation.

After another year or so of tweaking, Ruger finalized the design. And, in 1985, they dubbed it…

The P85.

But the XM9 trials were over by then, and Beretta was in.

Or so they thought.

Then again, XM10

Everyone was pissed Beretta got the contract.

Broken slides. Broken teeth. Unreasonably high round counts with over-pressure ammo. You know the story. So, the military held another round of trials in 1988 to see if Beretta’s apparent success was but a fluke.

That’s when Ruger decided to show the world what their new P85 was capable of. In what came to be known as the “XM10 trials.”

Turns out, the P85 was capable of meeting—or exceeding—every requirement set forth by the U.S. military. And while Sig didn’t re-enter the P226 in XM10, the P85 held its own with the Beretta 92 and handily beat the Smith & Wesson 459.

Long story short: The P85 was a really good pistol.

But so was the Beretta 92. And unless it really sh!t the bed this time around, it was still gonna be the Army’s pick. 

It didn’t. And it was.

The P89 Shines

Almost immediately after XM10, Ruger made some tweaks to the P85 based on what they’d learned in the trials. These included:

• A stronger, more reliable firing pin/safety

• A one-piece barrel that improved accuracy vs. the original two-piece design

I’m sure there were other tweaks as well, but those were the major ones.

This post-XM10 P85 became known as the “P85 MKII.” Almost immediately, Ruger won some LE contracts for the revised pistol, including the San Diego PD, the Chicago PD and the Wisconsin State Patrol.

Then, in 1989, Ruger changed the name of the P85 MKII to…

The P89. Which is precisely what we have here.

I had a white-brick loft—now I’ve got a white-brick house. Brand continuity, man.

My P89 was made in 1994. As such, it incorporates a few other tweaks over the initial P89 configuration. Most notable of these is the raised barrel hood which sits higher than the rear portion of the slide. From what I’ve read, Ruger introduced this change in 1993 to help tighten the barrel/slide lockup.  

And I can tell you… it did.

My P89 has one of the tightest lockups any pistol I own. You can feel it squeeeze into battery. Of all the 25+ pistols I own, the only one that might lock up tighter is my mint condition Walther P88 Compact. 

Yes, you read that right. A Ruger P-Series pistol locks up just as tightly as classic Walther, 4 times its price.

And that lockup isn’t just for show, bro. In my experience, the P89 holds its own with just about any other production pistol I’ve tried in terms of accuracy and shootability.

Like I said: NOT compromise.

Sure Shot

When you take aim with a P89, it’s like…  

You’ve already hit your target. Through its battery of simple—yet effective—ergonomic inputs, the gun imparts a reassuring sense of stability and confidence.

The P89 just feels accurate.

The grip fills your hand without overfilling it. The panels are actually recessed into the frame (genius), which makes it feel slimmer than a Beretta 92 or Sig P226—yet still wide enough to offer lateral stability. Moreover, the backstrap follows a clean, straight angle with no curves or humps to undermine your trigger reach.

Every part of your hand that needs to make contact with the gun… does. In just the right way. 

Who says there’s no time for recess?

Net, you feel completely in control of the weapon.

Especially the trigger.

It’s not that the trigger on the P89 is anything exceptional. The SA wall is fairly stout, with a crisp, predictable break—though it’s not quite as snap-tastic as a Beretta 92’s SA trigger.

But it’s the way you interface with the trigger that’s sooo simplistically intuitive. You’ve got this rock-solid grip situation goin’ on—and then—you’ve got this broad, flat plank of a trigger that’s just waiting for your fingertip. As soon as you take the slack up to the SA wall… add a little bit of pressure…

It just feels right, man.

BANG!

And if you decock, the DA pull offers a very smooth response, largely free of stacking or excessive overtravel. Even with short fingers, I feel in very much in control of the gun when the hammer falls in DA. I much prefer it to the DA on a Beretta 92. And most P2XX Sigs, honestly. Decocking between shots, I can manage some nice, tight patterns with the P89.

Moreover…

In the ~500 rounds I’ve put through my P89, I’ve had no failures. Nor did I expect any. The P89 has reputation for reliability that’s commensurate with other contemporaneous wondernines.

I’ll also say I love the P89’s 3-dot sight setup. The dots are small, close together and they sit low on the slide. Plus, the front dot is red, so you have a touch of contrast as you’re lining things up. The sight picture feels very direct and precise; you get the sense that what you see is exactly what you’re gonna hit.

BANG!

And more often than not… you do:

50 rounds @ 10 yards, SA

#Kerchunklife

In my experience, there is no pistol that captures the essence of “kerchunk” more than the P89 (and probably other P-Series Rugers). When that phantastically phat slide comes back at you… you feel it. 

But in a good way.

A way that informs—and validates—your sense of shot placement. A way that’s soft, gentle, comfortable… and uniquely satisfying.

The P89 makes “kerchunk” feel like a lifestyle choice. A placid state of mindful clarity, where everything just seems right. If “kerchunk” was a country, the P89 would be its lavish, cosmopolitan capital. If you ordered “kerchunk” at a restaurant, you’d be served a thick, juicy filet of P89… smothered in shootability.  

Only the P89 can make “kerchunk” sexy—and maybe the P90 (just ask Antonio Banderas)

“Kerchunk” is the P89’s love language. And once you get a sense of how it shows affection, accuracy becomes accessible, predictable and seamlessly replicable. 

Nevertheless, “kerchunk” isn’t for everyone.

If you’re looking for the flattest, smoothest, most “inert” recoil impulse you can find, you’ll be disappointed in the P89. Honestly, even P2XX Sigs—with their oft-maligned high bore axes—seem a bit more “settled” shot to shot.

But for me…

BANG!

…as soon as I feel the slide complete its cycle, it’s like confirmation: I know I made my hit. 

BANG!

BANG!

At intermediate distances, the P89 has a persnickety predilection for tightly cloverleaved patterns. The first few shots I ever took with this gun (which were the first few shots I ever took with any P-Series Ruger) basically went through the same hole.

DA only @ 10 yards—the P89 very shootable in DA

I purchased my Heckler & Koch P9S around the same time I purchased this P89. So, there were some mutual range trips. And while the P9S offers a zen-like sense of directness that’s really unlike any other pistol I’ve tried…

At 10 yards, the P89 was more than holding its own with the P9S. Now, I suspect the P9S is probably more inherently accurate. Like, in an absolute sense. And, if pressed, I think I can conjure up slightly tighter groups with some of my other pistols—including the P9S. And my Beretta PX4.

But we’re splitting hairs, here. The point is…

The Ruger P89 is no joke when it comes to accuracy. Maybe it’s not $3,000 Wilson Combat accurate. But neither is a Beretta 92 or a Sig P226. And a P89 will hang with those two all day.

Speaking of the Beretta 92…

The Un-Italian Stallion

In terms of its heft, its ergonomics and its presence in the hand, the P89 gives me Beretta 92 déjà vu (deja pew?).

Like the 92, the P89 has a looong slide that points with intent and authority.

With both guns, you feel a sense of confidence when you take aim. I find the weight and the balance similar—as well as the feeling of stability and control I get. And while neither gun has the slender, graceful pointability of a Browning Hi Power, they both feel so… righteous… when you line up your sights and prepare to impart 9mm justice to your target.

Furthermore, the P89’s grip angle and grip proportions seem 92-esque. At least to me. Though the P89 does benefit from a slightly slimmer grip width (thanks to its recessed panels) and a straighter backstrap. Moreover, the trigger reach—and even the trigger break itself—are reminiscent of the 92. You get a nice firm wall that preludes a hearty, satisfying snap.

The P89’s recessed grip panels make it a bit slimmer than a 92

But…

As good as the P89 feels, the Beretta 92 still offers that “X-factor” in terms of its smooth, even-keeled recoil impulse. The 92 just speaks to you.

The P89…

Well, it “kerchunks.” As previously stated. Which—as also previously stated—feels pretty darn good.

For a kerchunk.

Yeah, the 92 is still my gold standard for a big ole’ honkin’ wondernine. But that doesn’t mean the P89 isn’t great. To be perfectly honest, I find it to be a more natural, intuitive shooter than a P226. Or a Smith & Wesson 5906. But, to be clear, the differences here are subtle and subjective; I love P2XX Sigs and Smith 3rd gens, and I shoot all of the above well.

Net: P89 is very nice shooter and an all-around fantastic gun.

Until you put it in your pants.

Big-booty 9s, up with it…

Belt Buster

I don’t think we need to belabor this point. Nevertheless…

The P89 is fat. So, it’s not the most comfortable gun to have pinned up against your spare tire.

But it’s not like you can’t carry the thing. I stuck mine in a generic IWB holster, went to the range, ran some errands. No, it wasn’t as comfortable as a P2XX Sig or a Smith 5906—both of which have significantly thinner cross sections. But it wasn’t awful. It feels similar to a 92 in the pants. Maybe a slight edge in comfort for the 92.  

But let me put this in perspective…

If the P89 was your only gun and you had to go to a sketchy gas station for milk at 2 AM…

The comfort of having an accurate, reliable DA/SA pistol in your pants will far outweigh any waistline-related discomfort.  Not that you should make a habit of buying milk at sketchy gas stations.

In Conclusion

The P89 is…

NOT what you think.

NOT what you expect.

NOT what you’ve been led to believe—by the pervasive pretensions of “cheapness” that serve to undermine the pistol’s true merits.   

The P89 is NOT anything less than an excellent service pistol. And if you give it any shred of a chance to meet that standard—a standard for which it was originally designed—it will NOT let you down. As long as you’re not sticking it in your pants for long periods of time.

So…

If anyone asks you about the Ruger P89, don’t begin with “for what it is.” Instead, tell them what it isn’t. Because it isn’t price that should define the P89’s legacy.

It’s excellence. Which is the only thing you’re left with, if you give the P89 a fair shot.

Thanks so much for reading.

What are your thoughts on the Ruger P89? Experiences? Opinions? Scathing condemnations on my review? Feel free to share below…

#hiptac

© 2023, Hipster Tactical  

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…

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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.

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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

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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.

Sig P245 Review: Don’t Call it a P220

Nothing makes you feel more like a pretentious asshole than owning a Sig P245.

Sure, there are more expensive, more exclusive guns out there. But it’s the convoluted elevator speech—which invariably accompanies any casual discourse on the P245—that instantly turns you into a jaded, know-it-all prick:

“You might have heard of the P220 Compact. No? Well, the P245 is essentially a compact P220, but it’s NOT a P220 Compact. The P245 has a proprietary locking geometry with a traditional sheet-metal slide… blah, blah, blah…”  

There’s really no un-condescending way to say any of that.

You don’t even have to try to sound like a douche. It just happens. It’s inevitable. You might volunteer at soup kitchens and foster autistic cats… but you can’t NOT sound like a bloviating horse’s ass if you’re talking about a P245.

Pretentious gun on a pretentious leather jacket

But here’s the thing:

As much as I enjoy pontificating about a pricy Euro .45 no one’s ever heard of… I don’t own a P245 because of that.

I own a Sig P245 because I believe it’s the best freakin’ compact .45 ever made. And that—my fellow pretentious gun hipsters—is what we’re here to talk about. 

What makes the Sig P245 hipster worthy?

Conceived as the ideal compact .45, the P245 incorporates innovative design characteristics that not only distinguish it from the P220, but—in some ways—make it superior.

“This is serious.”

Those are the exact words I texted a friend, the first time I shot a P245—along with a picture of a perfectly centered, perfectly cloverleafed shot grouping.

Up until that moment, I had never shot a handgun that accurately. And while I’d owned a few Sigs and an HK P2000SK, the P245 was the first gun that really wowed me in terms of how natural, intuitive and precise shot placement could be with a handgun. 

In that sense, the P245 ruined me. Because I always expected more from handguns after that. And while I’ve found other pistols that I shoot as well as the P245—including the Beretta PX4, the Walther P88c and the Sig P239…

I’m not sure there’s any gun I shoot better than a P245.

It always proves it can hold its own with anything. It always carves out ragged holes right where I want them. It was the first .45 I ever owned and it’s the last .45 I’d ever sell.

In fact, I sold my P220—because I simply prefer the P245.

From any angle, the P245 is a hell of a .45

And not just as a carry gun. Sure, it’s more compact and it conceals better. But for me, the P245 feels, shoots and handles… better. Not that the P220 is bad, by any means. But the P245, I think, brings a bit more to the table in terms of the subtle, intangible qualities that you just feel.

“Wait… isn’t the P245 just a P220 with a shorter slide and grip?”

Well, that’s what I thought too. But to get a better understanding of why it isn’t…

Let’s take a little trip down memory lane.

The Golden Age of Single Stacks

Ah, yes… the late 1990s.

Master-P still had gold ceilings in his house. The golden girls were still… golden. And, for the moment, the AW ban had turned single-stack pistols into concealed-carry gold. Especially in more “potent” calibers.

And while Sig offered their single-stack P239 in .40 and .357 SIG, they had no “carry-oriented” offerings in .45 ACP. Certainly, the P220 had been one of the preeminent DA/SA .45s since the 1970s. But in its “native state,” the venerable P220 couldn’t compete with officer-sized (i.e., subcompact) 1911s—or the new Glock 30—from a concealed carry standpoint.

So, Sig got to work… stat.

They took a P220 slide (which was still stamped sheet metal at that point) and chopped off about half an inch. Makes sense, right? 

But then… things got weird…  

The Franken-.45 

Internally, Sig’s new compact cannon—dubbed the “P245”—shared little with the P220.

For starters, the P245 borrows the unique flat-wire recoil spring pioneered on the P239. In fact, the P245 takes the exact same spring used on the .40/.357 P239s (and the .40/.357 Sig Pros). So, it’s easy to find replacements for your long out-of-production P245, based on that.

The P245 uses the P239’s (.40/.357) recoil spring

The P245 also uses the P239’s unique barrel-lug geometry, which (apparently) is designed for flat-wire springs.

If you look at the camming lugs on a P245, you’ll notice how much farther back the fore-lug sits, compared to a P220. The P239 is set up the same way. In fact, the dimensions of the “camming slot” (the space between the fore-lug and the feed ramp) on the P239 and the P245 are almost identical.

L to R: P225, P229, P239, P245—very similar “slot” dimensions on the P239/P245

So, here’s what I think is going on:

A flat-wire spring compresses farther (deeper?) than a normal spring. In other words, it flattens out more. And since the fore-lug is what holds the back end of the recoil spring in place… they moved the fore-lug backto give the flat spring more room to fully compress.

At least that’s my crude hypothesis.

In any case…

It seems like the P245 is kind of a hybrid between an old-school P220 and a P239.

That’s probably an oversimplification.

But—at the very least—the P245/P239 share the same recoil spring and a similar lug setup. And, given the era in which the P245 came to fruition, I suppose it makes sense that they drew inspiration from the P239—which represented the cutting edge of compact/single-stack pistol design at the time.  

P239 .357 + Sig P245: Big boomin’ bros

So, do you feel pretentious yet? Try explaining all that to the guy with the Hi-Point in the lane next to you.

Speaking of pretentious…

The Sig CCO

The CCO—or “Concealed Carry Officer”—easily qualifies as the most pretentious of all 1911 variants. Because it’s another one of those guns that necessitates an elaborate explanation for which very few have any frame of reference:

“The CCO combines the shortened grip frame from Colt’s officer-sized model with the mid-length slide from their commander-sized model. It’s really the best of both worlds.”

So then…  

In case you’re not hipster enough to speak Colt fluently, I’ll translate: the CCO has a longer slide/barrel than a “typical” subcompact 1911, but it maintains the short grip of a subcompact 1911. So, you lose one round in the mag, but you still end up with a 4-inch(ish) barrel.

Just like the P245.

In that sense, the P245 is a DA/SA analogue to a CCO-patterned 1911—same size, same layout, same capacity. Yeah, the Sig design is boxier and slightly bulkier than a 1911. But not as much as you’d think—slide width is very similar: around 1 inch.

The Sig “CCO”—short grip + mid-length slide

Also interesting…

Colt’s CCO and Sig’s P245 were both released in 1998. Seems like there was some parallel evolution going on there.

Personally, I love the chopped grip paired with the mid-length slide. You get a longer sight radius, better ballistics and arguably better reliability (vs. a shorter 3”/3.5” barrel)… all with the concealability of a shorter grip. Plus, in terms of proportions, the shorter grip/longer slide just work, to my eye.

But then again…

I’m a pretentious hipster.

But you don’t have to be a hipster to appreciate torn-out bullseyes and head shots at 20+ yards.

“Full-Figured” Accuracy

With the P245, every shot feels… big. 

Big boom. Big recoil. Big holes. But also…

Big feel.

The P245 gives you a phat, chunky blast that begs you to grab on and squeeze. Every shot feels rotund, curvaceous and voluptuous. Even juicy. It’s got big-bore booty for daaaays, bruh. 

BOOM! 

The SA break is crisp and predictable—like it is on all P2XX Sigs. The DA utilizes Sig’s updated strut/mainspring design, which makes it muuuuch smoother and more consistent than Sig’s earlier DA triggers.

BOOM!

The short grip feels precise and intuitive. The heel of your support hand indexes against the toe of the pinky rest, giving you optimal leverage and control during the big…

BOOM!

The slide kerchunks. The muzzle rises. The recoil is bold, bubbly and bodacious—but very fluid. Never harsh. Never uncontrollable.

It almost flows.

All but the biggest hands will get 3 fingers on the P245’s grip

BOOM!

In the cascade of tactile feedback that ensues, you can feel where and how your shots are hitting. As long as you “obey the flow,” the P245 will put rounds into the same exact hole. Shot after shot after shot.

50 rounds @ 10 yards—you can’t ask for much more than that

BOOM! BOOM!

It’s communicative. It’s intuitive. It’s uniquely satisfying. And it’s not entirely the same sensation you get with a standard P220.

P220 2.0

P220s are accurate.

Damn accurate. Some consider the P220 the most accurate out-of-the-box service pistol you can buy, in any caliber.

Yet—personally—I always shot my P245 better than my P220. 

I’m not saying a P245 is necessarily MORE accurate than a P220. But I tend to think you get a bit more feel with the P245. And very little additional recoil, if any. I’d say the P220’s recoil impulse is exactly what you’d expect for an alloy-framed .45 in its size range. Whereas the P245’s recoil, on the other hand, seems a bit more…

Tangible.

The P245’s recoil is plush and bouncy… not unlike this pillow

Now, I don’t want to suggest that the P245’s recoil is necessarily “light.” It’s not. It’s a compact .45 with an aluminum frame. Physics are physics. If you want a really soft-shooting DA/SA .45, check out the Smith & Wesson 4506-1.

The point I’m making here is that the P245’s doesn’t recoil substantially more than a full-size P220. And, to me, the recoil you get offers a slightly better feel.  

And that takes me back to the P245’s unique spring/lug geometry…

I tend to think the repositioned fore-lug—maybe—gives the slide slightly more rearward travel as the flat-wire spring bottoms out. This may provide a bit more “dwell time” at the back end of the slide’s cycle… which may contribute to the sensation of a slightly slower, more “tactile” recoil impulse.

This is all, of course, a hypothesis. From a guy with a degree in creative writing, not engineering. So, take it as such.

But…

At the end of the day, I think the P245 gives you more of that “plush” sensation you find in non-tilting actions—like rotating barrels and falling-blocks. And while it’s reeeal hard to compete with a Beretta PX4 or a Beretta 92 (or a Walther P5) in the “communicative recoil” department, the P245 is certainly one of Sig’s best. 

So then… with all that in mind…

The evolutionary changes to the P245 (vs. the P220) make me wonder if it could/would have been the beginning of a more modernized .45 ACP platform—a “P220 2.0,” if you will. The flat-wire recoil system seems well-suited to the .45 and the P245 could have been the first step in that transition.

Unfortunately, the P245’s unique take on big-bore blasting didn’t last long.

My guns like to hang out in window sills

An Elegant Weapon, From a More Civilized Age

The P245 fades from the “gun hipster archaeological record” at some point around 2008. I suppose a 10-year run—’98 to ’08—ain’t a bad showing. But I’m not sure the P245 was in “full production” during that time.

From what I can tell, P245s were released in three main “batches”—possibly all from the same initial production run. 

• The 1998 Batch. These are entirely made and assembled in Germany, with “triple proofs” on the barrel, slide and frame. Mine comes from this batch (KJ date code). As far as I know, these all have standard blued finishes.

• The 1999+ Batch. These, I think, were made from the same parts produced initially (in Germany), but they were assembled in the USA—so they’re not triple proofed. Some of these were blued. Some had nickel-plated slides (i.e., two tone).

• The 2008 Batch. These were the last of the P245s. They had slightly different markings than the earlier ones, with serial numbers printed on the slides and barrel hoods. Some had an all-nickel finish (frame and slide), some were blued. It’s hard to know for sure, but even these may have originated from the initial production run in ’98. 

There were also 75 “limited edition” P245s with Custom Shop markings. These, I believe, were among the last P245s sold in (after?) 2008. They fetch big bucks if they come up on Gunbroker.

Attack of the P220 Compact

Shortly after sunsetting the P245, Sig unveiled the “P220 Compact”—which EVERYONE assumed was just a P245 with a milled slide. And I suppose that’s not surprising… because the P245 and the P220C use the same magazines and share the same grip panels. They also look pretty much same—though at one point the P220C had a stabby-looking beavertail.

In fact, just about every forum post you find on the P245/P220C makes the assumption that they’re the same gun, just with different slides.  

But they’re completely different, internally.

With the P220C, Sig eliminated the “P239-inspired” mechanics that made the P245 so unique. Frames, barrels and locking inserts will NOT interchange between P245s and P220Cs; but they WILL between P220s and P220Cs. Moreover, the P220C uses a multifilament recoil spring like the full-size P220, instead of the flat-wire spring used on the P239 / P245. However, it’s worth noting that the multifilament spring for the P220C IS slightly shorter and uses a greater number of braided filaments vs. the spring used on the full-size P220.

Springs from my P245 (L) and P239 (R)—same spring, but the P245’s has seen more rounds

In other words…

The P220 Compact literally IS just a chopped P220 (as the name would suggest). Whereas the P245 was a proprietary design, with a unique action.

I think simple economics probably presents the best explanation for Sig’s reversion to “standard” P220 mechanics on their mini-.45: they had to produce fewer “special” parts for the P220C, which I’m sure saved money.

So, does that mean they sacrificed performance / shootability on the P220C vs. the P245?

Maybe?

I’ve never shot one, but I’m sure the P220C shoots well and works well. But I wouldn’t be surprised if it lacked that extra bit of touchy-feely goodness that makes the P245 so awesome. How important is that?

Well…

They designed the P245 differently for a reason, right? Then they copped out and went back to their comfort zone. Probably just to save money—not because it was a better design.

Geez… I really do sound pretentious.

Concealed Cannon 

But there’s nothing pretentious about packing big-bore power in your pants. And for that, the P245 excels.

To be clear: I think the P245 makes a case for itself on shootability alone, regardless of its size. It’s simply a great .45, by just about any metric.

Yet…

The P245 happens to also be one the best-carrying Sigs you can get.

The P245’s grip is actually a bit shorter than a P239’s grip. It really disappears, even under a T-Shirt. Plus, the slide is fairly slender—as all classic Sigs are (except for the Legacy P229). And while the P245’s slide is a bit longer than a P239’s slide, in some ways the extra slide length helps it feel a bit more stable and planted in your pants.

With this simple setup, the P245 disappears AIWB

This is another reason I love the “CCO” layout (i.e., mid-length slide w/ short grip) for a carry gun: the longer slide has no impact on concealability, yet in some ways it actually aids in comfort/stability. The short grip is really what counts in terms concealability.

And the cost of that shorter, more concealable grip?

You only get 6 rounds in the mag. And while I’m not a “capacity is king” kinda guy, I’ll say that’s probably on the lower end of what I want in a carry gun as far as capacity.

Also, if you have really big hands, the short grip might not be ideal. But with the pinky extension on the mags (which is actually longer on the later mags), I think most people will be able to get a full 3-finger grip.

If 7 holes this big won’t save you… I don’t know what will

Personally, feel confident carrying 7 rounds of Earth-shattering .45 thunder on tap. With an extra mag or two for peace of mind. But hey—carry is a personal thing. If that doesn’t feel like enough for you… I get it. And for some situations, maybe it isn’t.

But, I tend to think the P245 will do the job—and do it well—for just about any concealed carry/self-defense scenario.

To that point…

I’ve found the P245 to be admirably reliable. With one caveat.

Magazines, Dimples and Reliability… Oh My

I’m gonna make this simple: when comes to P245 mags, insist on the dimple. 

That rhymed. In case you missed it.  

Anyway… here’s the deal with the dimples…

Since .45 ACP can slam a slide back pretty hard, you can get what’s called an “inertial feed”—that’s when the next round in the mag literally bounces forward, out of the feed lips, and subsequently fails to feed. In my experience, this phenomenon is more prevalent on compact(ish) .45s, probably because of the higher slide velocity. 

The mag on the left has the dimple on the top, toward the rear of the tube

So, to prevent inertial feeds, Sig added a “dimple” to the top of ALL .45 mags at some point in the late ‘90s. The dimple hooks into the extraction groove of the round waiting to feed, which holds it in place as the slide recoils. Yeah, it’s a pretty simple solution.

But it works.

Case and Point: With my first P245 (which I sold because I was _uckin broke—not because I wanted to), I would get occasional failures to feed with NON-DIMPLED mags. Never had any FTFs with dimpled mags. In fact, I had failures to feed with my full-size P220 using non-dimpled mags with particularly hot .45 loads.

Now, only the last batches of P245s (from 2008ish) came with dimpled 6-round mags. P220Cs, on the other hand, always shipped with dimpled 6-rounders.

So…  

Basically any P245 you buy—other than the rare specimens from 2008—will have NON-DIMPLED mags. Bottom line: I suggest you go online and find some dimpled mags if your P245 doesn’t include them. Which it probably won’t.

They’re not exactly cheap. But they’re not exactly a fortune either. I mean, you’re probably gonna buy some mags anyway, right? Just make sure they have dimples.

I will say I’ve never had a failure using non-dimpled mags with my CURRENT P245. At least not yet—though I shoot mainly with the dimpled mags. In fact, this P245 digested several boxes of the hot Ammo Inc. rounds that choked my P220… even with non-dimpled mags.

Nevertheless…

For carry, I will only use the dimpled mags.

Another weird thing about P245/P220C mags…

The later/dimpled mags have an inward… crimp?... in the front of the mag tube to give the mag-catch better clearance (I’m NOT talking about the dimple itself—this is a completely separate thing, now). With the earlier mags, the front part hangs up on the mag catch if you insert the mag too gingerly.

And while this tweak makes mag insertion smoother, it also means that certain wide-mouthed JHPs won’t fit in the mag. They fit in the feed lips… but when you try to push the rounds down into the mag tube, the edge of the bullet stops on that crimped-in part.  

Ironically, Sig’s own V-Crown .45 JHPs don’t fit in the later P220C/P245 mags.

So, yeah… don’t use big obnoxious JHPs. And you’ll be pretty much good.

Pretentious Shmretentious 

I still think fondly of that first P245 I owned, back in 2015. Sure—my reasons for wanting it, initially, may have been rooted in my pretentious desires to own the MOST obscure of all P2XX Sigs.

Which the P245 certainly is (unless, of course, you count the extremely weird P229 Carry; though that didn’t exist when I bought my first P245).

Hipster heaven

But, through my shameless pursuit of the ultimate hipster Sig, I came to discover one of my favorite pistols of all time. It’s still my favorite .45, overall. I think it always will be. Though the S&W 4506-1 is a reasonably close second.  

The moral of this story?

Don’t be afraid to seek out weird guns for reasons may seem outwardly pretentious. Because you just may discover something that lets you do this:

Pretentious? Yeah, who cares…

Thank you so much for reading.

What are your thoughts on the Sig P245? Experiences? Opinions? Scathing condemnations on my review? Feel free to share below…

#hiptac

© 2023, Hipster Tactical

Colt Trooper .357 Review: Plain-Jane Python

What if I told you the Colt Python had a sister?

Fun. Down-to-earth. Kinda quirky. I mean, yeah—she’s a little awkward at family barbecues and she dresses kinda like Avril Lavigne forgot to do laundry.

But she’s still a Colt, bro.

And so, my fellow gun hipsters, I’d like to introduce you to the Colt Trooper .357—the Python’s unpretentious, underappreciated, un-underlugged sibling. Who happens to be a woman, for the purposes of this metaphor.

We invite you to substitute other genders / pronouns above, depending on your preferences. Thank you. 

 –The HipTac Consortium for Half-Assed Political Correctness (H.T.C.H.A.P.C)

My 1965 Trooper. Those curves… damn…

What makes the Colt Trooper .357 hipster worthy?

Mechanically identical to the Python, the Colt Trooper .357 of the 1960s replicates the form, feel and function of its more finely finished sibling—at a less finely finished price.

Now, before we get ahead of ourselves, there’s one thing we’ve gotta get straight:

Not all “Colt Troopers” are created equal.

You’ve got Trooper MKIIIs from the 1970s, Trooper MKVs from the 1980s and .38 special Troopers from the 1950s. Those are all very different guns with very different mechanics.

But the Trooper .357 of the ‘60s (like mine) literally is a Python. Same parts. Same action. It even has the Python’s “bank vault” lockup—which freezes the cylinder in perfect alignment with the forcing cone, whenever you touch the trigger.

It just looks… frumpier.

In addition to having a less-sumptuous finish, the Trooper lacks the Python’s beautifully lugged and ribbed (for your pleasure) barrel. The absence of the underlug leaves the ejector rod untidily exposed. And without the rib as a foundation, the front sight towers awkwardly over the barrel like some kinda giant blued ziggurat (which is a Mesopotamian pyramid, of sorts).

Nevertheless…

Good Genes are Good Genes

Despite its more “bohemian” sense of style, the Trooper’s pleasing proportions still draw the eye and warm the heart. Its bold contours flow with the same sensuous poise as those of its “celebutante” sibling. And when it’s in your hand… it commutes a sense of grace and guts that only a classic .357 revolver can.

Handles just like a Python… with a front sight designed in ancient Babylon.

And of alllll the classic .357s, perhaps none are MORE classic than the Trooper/Python siblings—affectionately known to hipsters, nerds and Colt aficionados as the “I-Frame” guns.

Launched in the 1950s, Colt’s big, sexy I-Frame revolvers redefined what a premium revolver could, should and wanted to be. In fact, the I-Frame guns are often credited with inspiring the now ubiquitous Smith & Wesson L-Frame guns—which include the beloved 686 and 586.

She’s not glamorous, per se—but she’s still a looker

But, like the Vanderbilts, Kennedys and Kardashians, the most illustrious family dynasties often arise from the humblest of origins. Or the OJ trial. And in the case of the I-Frame, we can trace its roots back to the very dawn of Colt’s DA revolvers. 

1889: The Year the V-Spring Sprung

The first inklings of anything we’d recognize as a “modern” DA mechanism show up in Colt’s Model 1889 revolver. Which was introduced in… 1889.

The Trooper/Python’s great grandp— no, we’re doing a matriarchal theme, here… “grandma” (Photo: Wikidata)

And while the 1889 platform was still fairly crude at that point, it introduced 3 key innovations that remained constants in Colt’s revolvers for the next 80-some years:

• A V-shaped mainspring. With the M1889, Colt began using a distinctive flat-wire mainspring folded into the shape of a V. The DA lockwork they designed around this “V-spring” proved far superior to Colt’s earlier DA designs—which consisted of fragile, fiddly mechanisms shoehorned into Single-Action Army frames (basically).

• A Swing-Out Cylinder. This allowed for faster loading while leaving the top-strap intact/connected—which became critical as Colt evolved their DA platform to handle higher-pressure cartridges that S&W’s “top-break” guns could not.

• A Trigger-Locking Cylinder. The 1889’s action was designed to lock the cylinder in place when the trigger was pulled. This remained a hallmark of Colt’s DA revolvers, becoming known as the “Bank Vault Lockup.” It’s a feature that differentiates Colt revolvers from S&W revolvers to this day.

Collectively, these elements constitute Colt’s “V-Spring Action.” And it was the only type of DA action Colt offered until 1969, when the Trooper MKIII (which, again, is unrelated to the I-Frame Trooper .357) was introduced. More on that later.  

New Service, Too Late

By the time Colt perfected the V-Spring platform, the revolver’s days as a military-service sidearm were numbered. And though the U.S. Army did adopt Colt’s “New Service” model (the successor to the M1889) as the M1909…

An example of the Colt New Service revolver, adopted as the M1909 (Photo: Wikipedia)

We all know what happened two years later.

From that point on, “America’s .45” ceased to be a revolver. Nevertheless, Colt’s V-Spring wheel guns rolled on… into the hands, hearts and holsters of American law enforcement.

And eventually gun hipsters—but we’ll get to that.

Officially Official

I’m not sure I know what, exactly, qualifies a thing to be “official.” But apparently Colt does. Because in 1927, they decided to call their medium-frame service revolver…

“The Official Police.”

Primarily designed for the .38 special cartridge, it was a more compact version of their New Service/M1909. And though it started its life in 1908 as the “New Army Special”… cops bought it. Not armies. So, I suppose that warrants some air of “officiality” as far as it relates to law enforcement?

It’s official… this is officially the “Official Police.”

The OP was built on what would become known as Colt’s “E-Frame.” It was smaller than the original “New Service” frame, but bigger than the newer “D-Frame” guns—which include the Police Positive (because what cop doesn’t appreciate positivity?) and later the Detective Special. The E-Frame served as the basis for forthcoming I-Frame platform used for the Python and the Trooper .357.

But… speaking of Trooper .357s…

Troopers gon’ Troop

The first Troopers were actually E-Frame guns, chambered in .38 special—just like the OP. And while Colt had offered their larger New Service model in .357 before WWII, they discontinued all magnum chamberings during the war. So, Smith & Wesson’s Model 27 was having allll the mid-century magnum fun.  

But the M27 was a big old N-Frame howitzer. Similar in size to Colt’s New Service. So, that begs the question…

What if you could cram some .357 thunder into a medium-frame revolver?

As it turns out, you totally could. You just had to move the firing pin from the hammer to the frame (for reasons I’m not entirely clear on) and improve the heat treating on the frame and cylinder.

So, in 1953, the Colt I-Frame was born. And with it, the Colt “Model .357.”

Is it a gun? Is it a caliber?

Yup.

Colt launched a gun with the same name as the bullet it fired. I mean… I guess they were trying? Thinking beyond years, letters and unqualified conditional absolutes. Brownell’s actually has a pretty cool video on the M357. 

Colt “Model .357”—later renamed the “Trooper .357” (Photo: ColtFever.com)

In any case…

Colt’s “Model .357” is the same gun as my Trooper .357. Same innards. Same barrel. Same dorky front sight. But that’s not where this story ends. Because, in 1955, something new slithered into Colt’s lineup.

The Python Strikes

And when it did… all of Colt’s product-naming travesties were summarily forgiven. Because, you know, snakes kick ass.

New-production Python… but you can see how it evolved from the M357 (Photo: Wikipedia)

In reality, the Python was simply an M357 with a fancy lugged/ribbed barrel. But instead of killing-off the M357, Colt simply renamed it in 1961. And gave it a slightly crappier finish.

The result?

Was the “Colt Trooper .357.”

Which is precisely what we have here. Again, this particular example was made in 1965.

Colt changed the name of the “Model .357” to “Trooper .357” in 1961

Same I-Frames, Different Names

As of 1961, Colt had two mechanically identical I-Frame .357s intended for different consumer targets:

• The Trooper .357 targeted law enforcement. It had a plain-Jane finish, a plain-Jane barrel and I’ve heard it had less hand tuning in the action.

• The Python, on the other hand, was intended primarily for pimps, executives, Wayne Newton and Rick Grimes.

This service-grade/premium-grade dichotomy persisted until 1969, when Colt developed a completely new gun for their service-grade offering: The Trooper MKIII

The “MK” Lineage

Though it’s called a “Trooper” don’t be fooled: the Trooper MKIII does NOT use the classic Colt V-Spring design. It’s not an I-Frame (it’s actually a J-Frame). It’s not related to the Python, in a mechanical sense.

That’s not to say it’s a bad gun, however. From what I’ve heard, the MK guns are solid and dependable. I handled a Trooper MKV at a gun shop recently and it seemed… really freakin’ nice.

Trooper MKIII—note the distinctive partial lug (Photo: Wikipedia)

In contrast to Colt’s V-Spring action, Colt’s MK action used coiled mainsprings and completely different internals. I don’t want to get into the weeds on the design… but… the Trooper MKIII matured into the Trooper MKV, which ultimately served as the basis for the King Cobras and Anacondas of the 1990s. The MK action existed in parallel with the classic Python/V-Spring action up until 1999, when Colt ceased all revolver manufacture… before starting again in 2017.

As far as I can tell, ALL the revolvers Colt makes today—including the King Cobras and Anacondas—use a modified V-Spring design. It’s not exactly what you find in the original I-Frames, and it likely borrows some elements from the MK lineage (though I don’t think any of the new Colts use coiled mainsprings, like the ‘90s King Cobras/Anacondas did). 

All that said…

You can rest assured that an OG Trooper .357 from the ‘60s is the REAL DEAL as far as having a bona-fide Python action.

A Python for the People?

If you’ve read this far, your gun-hipster instincts are probably going into “hyper deal-sensing mode” right about now.

Something like…

“If the Trooper is basically a less-cool Python, it probably costs less. That means I could basically get a Python for……. LESS THAN A PYTHON!!!!!!”

Yeah, the gun hipster inner voice isn’t very articulate. Sorry.

But it ain’t wrong.

With the Trooper, you basically get 85% Python for 25% of the price—damn good deal

This Trooper—which had a pretty rough finish when I bought it—cost me about $500. An actual vintage Python from the ‘60s, ‘70s, ‘80s, ‘90s?

If you have that kinda money, you’ve crossed the threshold from “gun hipster” to “gun collector.” And I can’t help you anymore. Congratulations. It’s been fun.

But if you’re like me and you relentlessly pursue that optimal ratio of “cool” to “cost” when it comes to guns, the Trooper .357 might just be your ticket into vintage Python territory… for public-transit pricing.

So then…

If this gal’s built just like a Python…

Does she shoot just like a Python?

I wish I could tell you.

I’ve never shot a Python, current or vintage. But I have handled one of the new-production examples. And I can tell you this: a premium revolver made on 21st century machinery, with 21st century metallurgy, and 21st century MIM innards makes for one hell of a light, smooth action. But is it smoother than a vintage I-Frame Trooper?

Yup.

Nevertheless… 

When you hold this prancing pony of old, you feel good.

It’s heavy. It’s sturdy. It’s solid. It reeks of old-school hand-assemblage and people who gave an honest shit about the things they put out into the world. I’m going to guess this one was a police service weapon. Back in the day, lots of cops carried .357s—and the Trooper was a mainstay. Someone off-handedly told me KY State Police (I live in Kentucky) carried Troopers. But I really don’t know for sure.

It just feels authentic. Pure. Just. Pragmatic. It appeals to your inner sense of heroism… even manliness.

If, you know, you’re a man.

“What was that?? Yeah… I didn’t think so…”

The gun points with an air of righteous authority. The 4” barrel reaches, but never feels overextended. With its center of gravity in the cylinder, ahead of the hand, it commands an assertive presence. You feel the swoopy curve of the grip settle against your palm. You feel satisfying sense of heft in your hand. And you begin to get…

A little excited.

Single-Action Attraction

As soon as you cock the hammer, things get hot and heavy. Your heart palpitates. Your pulse quickens. Call it chemistry. Call it attraction. Call it three-fifty-_ucking-seven.

YESSS!!! 

A placid denouement lingers in the wake of the blast, leaving you to consider the magnitude of the ballistic catharsis you’ve just experienced. You feel sorta like Harry in the diner with Sally. And you quickly realize… you don’t give a shit whether this thing has lugs, ribs or snake-inspired nomenclature.

Because the Trooper’s seductively curvy I-Frame makes .357… heaven. Not to mention what it can do for .38s.

And the SA trigger is pure perfection.

It’s not the lightest SA revolver trigger I’ve ever experienced. But it doesn’t have to be. It’s impeccably direct; it seems as if there’s almost nothing separating the break from the shot itself. There’s no slack. No take-up. Just a firm—but exquisitely brittle—wall.

You rest your fingertip on the trigger face. You line up your ziggura— ehrm, sights. And daintily press.

YESS!!!

There’s a hole in the bullseye’s heart. And a flutter in yours.

She could be the one. The one revolver you’ve been looking for.

50 rounds @ 10 yards, all SA. That’s as accurate as I can shoot anything (this was before I had it refinished—more on that).

But let’s be honest: A one-night stand in single-action is no substitute for a long-term relationship based on solid double-action fundamentals.

DA Decency

I’ll be first to tell you: the Trooper’s DA is very good.

I easily kept all shots in the space of 3–4 inches, shooting DA @ 10 yards—which I can’t always do shooting a semi-auto in DA. Certainly, it offers a better DA pull than all but the very best DA semi-autos.

That said, the DA pull is not mind-blowingly light or flawlessly smooth. It can’t compare to the DA stroke on a brand-new Python or a King Cobra (both of which I’ve handled). On the newer ponies, the travel is lighter. The cylinder turns easier. All the moving parts just seem to… glide. 

The head is all DA @ 10 yards—the flyers were from rapid-fire “cylinder dumps.”

In my opinion, this Trooper’s DA can’t compete with a modern 686, either. I find some stacking near the end of the stroke, with the old Colt. Not a ton. But it’s there. At the end of the day, it’s just not quite as good as what you get with a modern Smith.

To that point…  

Smith revolvers have really good DA triggers in my experience. I’ve shot some recent-production 686s. I’ve owned a model 66-1 from the early ‘80s. They all had better DAs than this Trooper.

But…

When relationships really last, sometimes the “action” can get a little lackluster. Especially when it comes to revolvers (see what I did there?). And, to that end, Colt DA revolvers offer something the Smiths don’t.

Lockup the Love

I’ve owned two vintage revolvers in my life: this Trooper and (like I said) a S&W Model 66-1.

Both of them had the same timing issue: “Failure to Carry Up.”

That means the cylinder fails to fully lock into its notch if you cock the hammer sllllooooowwwly. Now, if you cock the hammer with some gusto, the momentum pulls the cylinder into full lockup and it’s all fine. But, technically, the action should fully lock up no matter how slowly you cock the hammer.

From my research, this condition is pretty common in older revolvers. And though it’s not ideal, it’s not that big of an issue. On a S&W, the force of the blast itself is supposed to help center the chamber relative to the forcing cone. But I guess there’s some potential for shaving lead (and damage to the cone) depending on how far off the alignment actually is.

But with a Colt, it’s far less of a concern. Because the classic Colt V-Spring action—dating all the way back to 1889—locks up perfectly as soon as you touch the trigger.

You can literally see it happen. If I cock my Trooper slowly (which sounds uncomfortably suggestive), then hold the hammer as I touch the trigger (it’s not getting any better, is it?)—you can see the cylinder snick over into full lockup.

And let me tell you…

That cylinder is LOCKED whenever there’s any pressure on the trigger. The hand (the thing that turns the cylinder) and the bolt (the thing that locks the cylinder) completely immobilize the action so the operant chamber lines up perfectly with the forcing cone.

Every time.

Without the trigger lockup, there’s actually quite a bit of play in the cylinder of this old gal. But as soon as you touch that trigger, she locks up as tight as any brand-new revolver. Maybe tighter.

This is what’s known as the “Bank Vault Lockup” feature.

It’s quite impressive, honestly—especially for a 58-year-old piece that looked like it spent the ‘70s in a grimy basket-weave holster, pressed up against the sweat-soaked seats of a Ford Crown Victoria.

Speaking of that…

Former Glory?

I got this thing refinished.

Seeing its sorry-looking pitted finish was kinda… disheartening. I felt it deserved better. I felt it deserved a chance to have its bluing shine, once again.

So, I took it Schlosser Gunsmithing in Newport Kentucky—just down the street from where I live. They specialize in working on older/vintage pieces and have experience with the old-school Colt V-Spring action. I figured it was worth a shot to see what they could do with this thing.

Before its “makeover”…

Pictures probably don’t do it justice. But the bluing they applied is deep, rich and very consistent overall. It’s not quite on the level of the original royal blue finish on the Pythons. But it’s really nice. And it gives this gun an attractive—yet practical—finish that’s going to keep the metal intact for years to come.

To me, it’s a look that suits the “pragmatic beauty” of the Trooper—which was never meant to be glamorous in the first place.

After—Schlosser Gunsmithing turned a beater into a beauty.

That said…

You still can see some of the pitting under the fresh bluing. But I never expected the gun to perfect. I expected the gun to look good (it does) and resist further finish degradation (which it certainly will). So I’m happy.

Was it worth the $350 I put into it?

In a purely financial sense… probably not. I don’t know if I’d be able to sell this gun for $850 - $900—which is roughly what I’ve got in it at this point.

Do I care? 

Nope.

Some of the pitting is still visible, under the blueing—but it’s still a beautiful piece.

Dirty Secrets

So, after the makeover, the ole’ gal looks damn good. And she shoots good. And she feels good.

But everyone has some baggage, right? You get into a relationship. You find flaws. You discover quirks. And you make the best of it.

Well…

I’ve noticed that this Trooper has some issues once it gets a little… dirty.

After a range trip, the action tends to get a little sticky. In other words, the cylinder rotation gets “hung up” when cocking the hammer or pulling the trigger in DA. Sometimes the hammer will just stop… and I’ve gotta wiggle it and “finesse it” past the hitch.

But as soon as I scrub the soot off the action parts (the star/ratchet, the hand, bolt) the action smooths out and you’d never know there was an issue.

Initially I thought maybe the side-plate screws were loosening up while shooting. That’s what was happening on some of the newer 2020 Colts, I believe. But, I Loctited the screws on this trooper and still noticed the issue. And… the fact that the issue only manifests after shooting (more than about 100 rounds), then completely goes away after cleaning, suggests (to me) that it’s “gunk related.”

I tend to think the fouling kinda congeals after the gun cools off and that’s what’s causing the action to stick. In fact, it seemed worse when I was shooting low-quality reman, so… that sorta corroborates the idea that more fouling = more action-stickiness.

Would a newer revolver have these issues?

I don’t know.

Even newer revolvers are not immune to timing/turning issues when they’re crudded-up. Honest Outlaw talks about this when he reviews his newer 686.

A newer ratchet with cleaner edges might power through gunk better… maybe.

But…

I tend to think a newer revolver with fresher, sharper edges on the hand/ratchet/bolt will probably power through congealed gunk better than a well-used service revolver—which probably spent its retirement shooting Pabst Blue Ribbon cans outside a trailer in some seedy holler.

Yeah—the gun could probably use an action tune to go with its makeover.

All that said…

This Trooper functions perfectly at the range… when you’re at the range. It will deliver cylinder after cylinder of accurate, powerful JUSTICE whenever and wherever you need it.

You just gotta clean it afterwards.

Your one and only?

As you can probably guess, I’m mainly a semi-auto shooter/carrier/user. Chances are, you probably are too.

That said, I love revolvers. And I want more revolvers. But, for the time being, I wanted this Trooper to be my one and only wheel gun. My magnum mistress, if you will.

That’s exactly what it is, at this point.

And I feel fully confident in its ability to accurately launch magnums at my foes with poise and aplomb.

My Trooper .357 with my only OTHER .357 at the moment: the Sig P239

So then… 

Should you choose an old Colt Trooper for your one and only .357 flame? After all, it’s the closest you’re gonna get to a Python for less than a grand.

Truth be told, it’s hard to say a brand-new Smith 686 wouldn’t be preferable to an old Trooper in just about every way. The same could be said of the new Colts—which, despite what the jaded MIM-haters will tell you… are really, really nice guns. I’d kinda like to get my hands on a 3-inch King Cobra, myself. Or a 3-inch 686.

Considering all that…

If you run across an old Trooper (or an M357—again, same gun) for a decent price and you’re aware of the caveats… go for it. Yeah, she may not be an actual Python. But once you spend a little quality time with her, you realize there’s more to a life than big… umm… lugs.

No, it’s not a Python… but with lines like that, it sure doesn’t feel like you’re settling.

The Trooper .357 is a solid gun and an affordable example of traditional Colt quality. It shoots well. It handles well. And it has all the makings of happily ever-after gun hipster relationship.

Thanks for reading.

What are your thoughts on the Colt Trooper .357? Experiences? Opinions? Scathing condemnations on my review? Feel free to share below…

#hiptac

© 2023, Hipster Tactical

Walther P99 / P99c Review: Defying the Dingus

Ah, the ‘80s.

Glam rock was unironically cool. Adu!t films had stories. Handguns were made of metal and had hammers. Life was good.

Then Gaston Glock came along and ruined everything.

Before long, we had plastic guns with trigger dinguses, YouPr0n and Justin Bieber. And while I fully admit that Justin’s rendition of Despacito is _ucking excellent, if there’s one thing I can’t stand…

It’s dinguses. Er, dingi?

Not necessarily for what they are—but what they represent: the stifling monotony of modern striker-fired pistols.

And that’s why I love the Walther P99: it’s unapologetically dingus-less.

So then, my fellow gun hipsters, that takes us to the all-important question…

What makes the Walther P99 hipster worthy?

Unfailingly accurate and endearingly unique, the Walther P99 exudes a sense of soul and substance that boldly repudiates the cliches of “modern” striker-fired pistols.

I think it’s safe to say we all need more neon yellow in gun pics.

The P99 plays with your emotions.

You know what you’re holding. You know it’s not the kinda thing that ignites the primal flame of tactical longing in your loins.

Yet it does.

Somehow, Walther made this piece of tacti-plastic feel… special. Even sexy. And not just because it was in four Bond movies and graced the blessed hands of Kate Beckinsdale in Underworld.

The P99 feels special because it is special.

To the eye, its edgy lines resolve into a strangely pleasing dissonance of sharp angles and adverse contours. In the hand, it conjures a precise, purposeful presence, begging for a firm, intentional hold. And, somehow, every fiber of its glass-reinforced techno-polymer frame seems to say:

“I was never meant to be a compromise for a metal gun.” 

Then you shoot it.

And you realize everything you thought you knew about single-action triggers… was a _ucking lie; because this one is muted, understated and generally anticlimactic. Yet it feels incredible. In its own Walther-y way.

Which is a better way, apparently. Because the P99 faithfully shoots to POA, with no drama, no attitude and no left-of-center BS.

Even in double action.

Second-gen P99c with first-gen full-size P99.

The DA/SA Striker

Yes. You read that right.

Unlike its striker-fired peers, the Walther P99 (in its original and “AS” flavors) is a proper double-action/single-action pistol—just like the Beretta 92, the Sig P226 and its predecessor, the magnificent Walther P88. In other words, it has two trigger pulls and a decocker. Which happens to be a button. Yes. There’s literally a button on the top of the slide. It’s like starting a Bentley every time you decock the gun. Not that I’ve ever started a Bentley.

The P99’s baller AF push-button decocker.

In any case…

The P99 has no use for a dingus, since it’s a true DA/SA pistol.

And to me, that says something about why it matters: it dares to be different—boldly defying the hive-minded hegemony of the dastardly dingus.

Now at this point, some of you are probably saying, “WTF is a dingus?”

Don’t worry. I got you.

Deign to the Dingus

In case you’re not an unrepentant gun nerd who hangs out on forums and imbibes YouTube gun content en masse, “dingus” is a colloquialism—of somewhat recent advent—that refers to the little safety lever built into the triggers of most striker-fired pistols. The “dingus” varies in size, shape and execution, but it’s usually there in some form.

Based on my reading, it’s primarily intended to prevent the trigger from moving backward (and firing) if the gun is dropped. Apparently there’s a greater risk of this happening with striker-fired mechanisms—and firing-pin-block safeties (which are ALSO present on striker-fired guns) do nothing to keep the trigger itself in check. Beyond that, the dingus supposedly provides some measure of protection against snags and unintended swipes. At least that’s what Glock wants you to think.

Interestingly, the P99 does have a secondary lever, tucked within the trigger shoe. Kind of like an “internal dingus.” Apparently, this is what protects the P99 from inertial trigger motion—though I suppose there’s no reason for it to be on the outside, since the P99’s DA action is inherently snag resistant.

Classic Glock dingus. Photo from Wikipedia.

As for the term “dingus” itself…

At least one article I’ve read asserts that the term itself is not endemic to firearms and thus should not be used to describe what should simply be called a “trigger safety.” But the term is used. A lot. And I, for one, believe that language evolves to suit the needs of its users—not vice versa. So…

As oft’ we uttered in the gilded halls of Seton Hill University, where I earned my MA in the lucrative discipline of creative writing…

“F_ck it.”

Ima call it a dingus. 

Walther’s Wager

It’s 1997.

The Glock 17 has been around for 15 years. The Glock 19—launched in ’88—is already redefining the landscape of modern handguns. 

So, why did Walther ditch the dingus and go a completely different direction with the P99?

Short Answer: Walther still cared about preserving the esoteric qualities that make great pistols… great.

But here’s the long answer…

The Wonder Years

Back in 1971, Smith & Wesson blessed us with the Model 59—the first pistol to combine a staggered-column, high-capacity magazine with a DA/SA fire-control mechanism. That critical innovation spawned a lineage of high-cap, DA/SA pistols that came to be called “the wondernines.” Of course the M59 eventually evolved into the excellent S&W 5906.

The wondernine lineage—minus the P226. And the actual model 59 (5906 is a stand in).

The “wondernine era” peaked in the late ‘80s, following the US military’s XM9 pistol trials—which was basically like the wondernine kumite (do you know… dim mak??). Of course, the Beretta 92 and Sig P226 emerged as the undisputed champions, and the rest of the XM9 contestants lived humbly in their mutual shadow.

But interesting things happen in the shadows. And one of them… was the Walther P88.

The Fate of the P88

In my opinion, the P88 is “The Most Wonderful Wondernine.” In fact, that’s the title of my review on the P88 compact. To me, the P88 series represents the ultimate expression of everything a wondernine should, could and wants to be. It’s incredibly well made. It’s incredibly accurate. It’s incredibly sexy. It’s just an incredible pistol, all around.

It was also incredibly expensive. And, unfortunately for Walther, the P88 didn’t sell well.

In fact, from what I’ve gleaned in my years of gun Googling, the P88’s less-than-stellar sales factored heavily into the financial woes Walther faced in the early 1990s. At one point, Steyr was expected to purchase Walther. That didn’t happen, for whatever reason.  

Then, in 1994, the owners of the Arnsberg-based Umarex corporation—maker of air rifles and BB guns—purchased a 90% stake in Walther, thus ending 108 years of Walther being owned by… Walthers.

But 1994 also marked the beginnings of something new, for the now investor-owned Walther GmbH. Something that took the lessons of the P88 in stride and sought to embrace the trappings of modernity—which, at that point, resembled a low-budget squirt gun and rhymed with “block.”

Walther recruited Horst Wesp as lead engineer on the new project. While rumors suggest that Walther “stole” engineers from Glock to work on (what became) the P99, Wesp actually came from Steyr. From what I’ve found, he worked on the AUG back in the ‘70s—another firearm that was ahead of its time and pushed the envelope in terms of innovation.  

Ergonomics were also a major consideration for the new gun. The established “Walther Canon” suggests that Cesare Morini—known for designing Olympic Bullseye pistols—was responsible for the P99’s unique ergonomics. However, at least one thread on the Walther Forum suggests that’s not actually true. Regardless, the P99’s ergos were certainly groundbreaking for the time (which we’ll talk about in greater depth, here soon).

Yet, despite Walther’s future-leaning take on their forthcoming pistol, the idea of the “wondernine” was still alive and well in the mid-90s. Moreover, the P88—despite its struggles—was a triumph in terms of bringing extremely high standards for accuracy into a DA/SA service pistol.

So…

What if you took the most compelling traits of “postmodern” pistol design—e.g., lightweight polymer frame, striker-fired action—and applied those to the classic wondernine formula? A formula that Walther itself had, arguably, perfected with the P88.

You’d have…  

The P99 and its magnificent predecessor.

The Last of the Wondernines

When the P99 debuted in ‘97, it replaced the P88 as Walther’s flagship service pistol. With the passing of the torch, the P99 became the heir of the P88’s prestigious lineage, and, by proxy, the lineage of all the DA/SA wondernines that came before (at least that’s how I’m choosing to see it).

Thus, it is—perhaps—the last of its kind.

But it’s not just the DA/SA trigger that qualifies the P99 as a true-blue wondernine, in my mind.

It’s the intangibles. The way it feels. The way it handles. The way it engages the senses and plays to your instincts. The things that, all too often, seem missing from the dime-a-dozen striker-fired pistols of today.

The things that literally put the “wonder” in “wondernine.”

Looks pretty damn wonderful to me.

Esoteric Ergos

The P99’s grip speaks to you—in an arcane dialect of curves and contours.

At first, you’re not fluent. The hump on the backstrap seems excessive—forcing your hand back and your POA down. The sides offer little purchase. The back of the slide extends rearward over your hand—almost like the sight notch is sitting on your wrist.

But then, you squeeeze—up and in.

The gun connects.

Holding the P99 is a unique ergonomic experience. I will say the grip is a bit slick—hence the Talon tape.

Driven upward by the hump, the web of your hand locks into the shallow “arch” beneath the slide’s rearward extension. The hump itself anchors into the crease between the heel and the palm, while your support hand instinctively closes the gap on the side. Everything tightens as you extend to your target. Your sight picture falls into perfect alignment.

And then, as you’re becoming conversant in the P99’s unique ergonomic vernacular…

BANG!

It all makes perfect sense when the trigger breaks.

50 rounds @ 10 yards, single action. I was honestly a little shaky—too much coffee. But the P99 never disappoints.

Point & Click

It’s terse. It’s subtle. It’s restrained. It’s discreet. It has the haptic sensibilities of a high-end computer mouse.

That’s a compliment, by the way.

The break is so direct. So pointed and precise. Like it’s somehow closer to the shot itself. And to your point of aim—which is faithfully heeded every time you pull the trigger. 

The thing just shoots where you want it to.

The P99’s SA trigger has a uniquely understated break that engenders an incredibly precise feel.

BANG!

There’s some slack. A firm wall. And just enough of crisp “tick” to give you a tactile point of reference. No overly dramatic snap, crack or pop. Nothing that serves to undermine or overshadow your primary “job” as a shooter:  

Aiming.

BANG!

And the reset? Well, it already happened…

BANG! BANG! BANG! BANG!

Double taps. Triple taps. Entire-magazine taps. The P99 has one of shortest, most seamlessly engaging trigger resets of… guns. Period. Moreover, your groupings tend to stay reasonably coherent, even in rapid fire.

But that’s in single action. Lest ye forget—this is a DA/SA gun.

Doubly Striking

While Glock, Smith & Wesson and others would have you believe their striker-fired pistols are “double action only,” we—as astute purveyors of pew—know that’s not true.

With Glocks, the striker remains 60% - 80% cocked (depending on who you ask) before every shot. Then, of course, the dingus is supposed be your safety net, since the pull is lighter and shorter than a true double action (yet, somehow, still not all that shootable—or safe, if you ask me). Smith & Wesson M&Ps actually have more of a pre-cock than Glocks. But I think it’s still slightly short of being fully cocked so they can call it double action, from a technical standpoint.

None of this applies with the P99 (in standard / “AS” configurations).

Because, again, the P99 has a gloriously gratifying push-button decocker. It completely de-tensions the striker, giving you a full-length / full-weight DA trigger pull for your first shot—just like any other DA/SA “wondernine.” It then resets to the excellent SA for every shot thereafter.  

The P99 also has striker indicator—the red “protrusion” means it’s cocked and you’re in single-action or AS mode.

Now, if you don’t decock after racking the slide, the P99 will remain in what’s called “Anti-Stress” (AS) mode. That’s a fancy way of saying the gun is fully cocked (i.e., in single action), with the trigger in the double-action position. Basically, if you breathe on it, it snicks back to the “normal” SA position, then continues to reset to that point as you shoot.

Based on exchanges with other P99 users, I get the sense most just ignore the AS “mode.” I do. And if you’re one who values the merits of DA/SA for carry, you will too.

Striker decocked—you’re in double-action mode now.

Now, having a longer, heavier DA pull for your first shot might seem like a liability for accuracy (vs. “normal” striker-fired actions). But the P99’s DA gives you a delightfully stack-free take-up, which leads right into the same “discreetly crisp” break you get with the single action. There’s no jerky transition from pull to break (i.e., overtravel). There’s no unsettling “jolt” as the striker (or hammer) releases.

It’s one of the most confidence-inspiring DA triggers of all my 20+ DA/SA pistols. Plus, the subdued sensation of the striker release makes transitions from DA to SA uniquely seamless; DA to SA pairs tend to group pretty tightly.  

And once you get into SA after that first DA pull… bullseyes and 10-rings better watch out.

Marching to the Beat of Different Gun

Shooting the P99 feels like nothing else.

It doesn’t feel like a hammer-fired gun. It doesn’t feel like other striker-fired guns. It’s its own thing. And it’s a very good thing.

That said, there was kind of an “adjustment period.” At least for me.

As I intimated, the ergos took a minute to get used to. But once I “got it”—it started to feel very natural and very secure. The gun’s unique handling characteristics ultimately work in your favor (I think), and for me… the P99 never disappoints at the range.

And I mean never.

Certainly, we all have better range days than others. But even when I’m having an “off” day, the P99 seems to minimize my imperfect inputs, still allowing for respectable results. In fact, the first time I shot a P99—well before I was dialed into its unique feel—it still put up nice groups.

At the end of the day, I still think the Beretta PX4 beats the P99 in pure single-action shootability. Just shooting putting bullets into a bullseye, the PX4 is a divine force of nature. That said, the P99 seems more well-rounded overall—in terms of its superbly precise SA break, its uniquely shootable DA pull, and its lightning-fast trigger reset.

Furthermore, I would be surprised if the P88 wasn’t more mechanically accurate than the P99. The lockup is just incredibly tight on the P88. Adding to that, I’m finding that my newly acquired HK P9S is pretty much a “one-hole gun”—it might even rival the P88 in terms of just raw accuracy.

But the difference here are academic. Truthfully, the P99 hangs in there with just about anything, as far as accuracy. And it far exceeds—in my experience—just about any other “normal” striker-fired gun.

Intentions Matter 

To me, that suggests there was real intent—real engineering effort—behind the P99’s excellent shooting dynamics. I think that’s also true of the Walther P5 and the P88, both of which have that inherently “shootable” character—albeit in very different ways. Honestly, I get the same impression with most of the classic wondernines: they’re generally just good-shooting guns.  

And, to achieve that, I think someone has to…

Try.

The Walthers have always been a family of overachievers.

Now, I realize I’m taking a lot of cheap shots at Glock throughout this review. Do I think the Glock 19 overrated?

Absolutely.

But do I think Glocks are bad guns? No. I don’t personally prefer them. But they’re reliable. They’re tough. They’re well made. And I don’t think they’re inherently inaccurate.

But when I shoot a Glock 19… when I see others shoot a Glock 19… when I hear this abiding refrain over shooting low-left and “meh” shot groupings… I have trouble believing that Gaston sat down with his engineers and said, “Okay, people… what can we do to give this thing really EXCELLENT shooting characteristics??”

Maybe I’m wrong, but I just don’t think that was a priority; nor do I think it was a priority for most of the striker-fired pistols that followed in Glock’s footsteps.

But I feel like it was with the P99. 

It’s a _ucking great gun.

But, hey—nothing lasts forever. 

Evolution and Attrition 

As the P99 evolved, it began to stray from the core DA/SA architecture that originally defined it. In 1998, there was the P990—a “proper” double-action only variant. Then, in 2000, Walther launched the “QA” or “Quick Action” variant, which was basically a P99 with a Glock-style striker system.  

Sigh. 

In 2004, Walther face-lifted the P99 series, implementing a range of mainly cosmetic updates; this became known as the “Second Generation.” The P99’s “Second Gen” saw the introduction of a compact model (which I own and will cover), while the original DA/SA variants were rebranded as “AS” models. Both compacts and full-size models were available as “AS” and “QA” variants. 

*While some sources suggest there are actually three P99 generations (based on slight mag-release differences), I’m going to approach it as TWO generations for simplicity’s sake.

And finally, in 2011, Walther launched the PPQ—effectively sounding the death-knell of the P99’s unique take on DA/SA. The PDP then became the PPQ’s replacement, as of 2021.

It’s like a not-quite-as-good SAO P99 with a dingus. Photo: Wikipedia.

Truth be told, the PPQ and the PDP are basically just 3rd and 4th generation P99s—slides and frames will actually interchange between all three product lines. But, unlike the P99 series, the PPQ and PDP both use a fully cocked striker mechanism. With a…

A…

[sobs, meekly] 

Dingus.

Cocked and Unlocked

I’ve never actually shot a PPQ. But I have dry-fired one. And I can tell you, without any reservations… 

The trigger is really good. Even with a dingus.  

But, in every way, the PPQ and the PDP are single-action only pistols. No different than a 1911 or a Browning Hi Power, apart from having a striker instead of a hammer. In fact, we’ve seen a shift in recent years of striker-fired guns going to single-action only—PPQ/PDP, VP9, P10C, P320s. Obviously, a pure single-action trigger is easier to shoot. But, until now, single-action guns have always had one key feature:

A manual safety.

YMMV, of course. But for me, an SAO striker-fired gun without a manual safety—which Walther does NOT offer on the PPQ / PDP—is a no-go.

Now, I prefer DA/SA with a decocker. Which is why I love the P99. But if you’re NOT going to give me a heavy/long DA trigger for my first shot… I’m gonna need a _ucking off switch. A dingus just ain’t gonna cut it.

Plus, as good as the PPQ’s trigger is…

The P99’s single-action trigger is still better.

The P99 Compact & The Second Gen 

As I mentioned, I own a P99 Compact (in addition to my full-size, which happens to be first-gen). So, I suppose I need to tell you about it. 

It’s more compact. Next question.

I kid, I kid.  

Compact and the full-size. Notice the “AS” branding on the Compact—which is what all DA/SA P99s became in the second gen.

But seriously, it’s just a chopped version of the full-size. You go down to a 3.5-inch barrel from a 4-inch barrel and the grip gets slashed to Glock 26 dimensions—which means it’s pretty much a two-finger proposition without the pinky extension.

And, as noted above, the compact is ONLY available in the second-gen style. There was no compact model prior to the 2004 facelift.

Personally, I prefer the aesthetics of the first-gen P99s. To me, the lines seem a little less busy and the angles have an overall sharper, more aggressive character. I especially dig the finer, half-height slide serrations on the first gen. And I suppose it’s worth noting that Bond and Beckinsdale (as Selene, in Underworld) both carried the first gen.

Anyway, back to the P99 Compact…

Truth be told, it doesn’t feel nearly as good in the hand as the full size. Not a surprise, I guess. And it’s not so much that your pinky dangles (without the extension), it’s that the backstrap feels so… incomplete in your hand. It only goes down to about the center of my palm, whereas most “normal-sized” handgun grips get down near the heel. It feels very truncated.

But I tell you what…

30ish rounds @ 10 yards. It puts up tight little groups—just like the full size.

The damn thing shoots just about as well as the full-size. Same great trigger dynamics. Same point-of-aim dependability. Same tight groups. And while it’s a bit more flippy in terms of recoil vs. the full-size, it’s not a huge difference—Walther uses a nice dual-spring setup for the compact’s recoil system. All things considered, it’s a pretty amazing little gun.

And it does seem very little.

Yet, somehow, that doesn’t make it carry as well you’d think. At least for me. And that leads me to my only real gripes about the P99 series… 

Fear and Lobing

While P99 isn’t exactly slim, it’s not obnoxiously thick either.

You’ll find wider slides on Beretta PX4s, Beretta 92s and Legacy Sig P229s. And possibly HKs. However, 9mm Glocks other P2XX Sigs will come in with slightly narrower slides vs. a P99.

Now, I suppose the P99’s light weight does kinda help offset its width. It may not be skinny, but at 22oz, it’s not gonna be tugging at your beltline like heavier guns. That said, you must still contend with…

The “Lobe.”

#lobelife

I’m talking about the part of the slide that extends back, over the backstrap. Protuberance? Protrusion? I’m certainly open to other terminology.

But whatever you call that bullous of steel and polymer, it tends to poke into your FUDA / FUPA when you’re carrying in the appendix position. And it’s really no more or less comfortable whether you’re carrying the compact or the full size. Obviously, the compact’s chopped grip is more concealable… but not as much as you’d think. The lobe itself will actually print more than the grip.

Also, if you don’t know what FUDAs and FUPAs are… Google it… but it seems to be one of those dumb things that everyone just knows. And while it is dumb, it’s honestly a pretty useful descriptor for an otherwise ambiguous part of human anatomy.  

In any case…

If you tuck a shirt in behind the gun when you carry it—or you put some other form of padding between your body and the gun (I literally use a beer coozy)—the “lobe” isn’t that big of a deal. And, honestly, it could be more of a me thing? After all, everyone’s body is different.

But, as I tell my wife…

I have curves. 

The Legend Lives… for now

Clearly, the PPQ was intended to be the P99’s successor.

But…

As of this writing, there are currently brand new P99s (and they’re AS models!) for sale in multiple locations online. A batch was manufactured and imported in 2022.

But no one is ever sure when the P99 will die off for good. Over the years, there have been more than a few threads on the Walther forum, seeming to suggest the P99 has finally gone extinct. Then… like the coelacanth… someone catches a brand-new P99 swimming gingerly in the primordial depths of GunBroker.

You can still buy P99s brand new as of early 2023—but I don’t think the compacts are made anymore. Neither are first gens, obviously.

The cycle of doubt, fear and uncertainty then begins again. 

I suppose we should applaud Walther for keeping the P99 alive this long. That said… why marginalize such an excellent design? Why turn your back on an idea that has as much merit today as it did 85 years ago? Maybe more—given the prevalence of concealed carry. 

Walther… you invented the DA/SA combat pistol in 1938. And you perfected it in the 1990s. So, own it. Advance it. Bring it back to the forefront of not only your product line, but the contemporary conversation on concealed carry. Be a leader. Not a follower. And stand together with us… the united gun hipsters of the internet… as we dare to defy the dearth of DA/SA decency that is…

The dingus. 

NOTE: I had mentioned doing kind of a “head-to-head” between the P99 and the Beretta PX4 Compact. But I think I’m going to do that separately—probably just in a YouTube video. Otherwise, this review would be an even lengthier tome than it already is.   

UPDATE: Here is that video…

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RETURNING THE FAVOR:

Check out gun writer Tamara Keel’s blog—Books, Bikes & Boomsticks. She has a refreshing wit and a smart take on firearms. She featured Hipster Tactical on her blog, so I wanted to do the same.

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What are your thoughts on the Walther P99? Experiences? Opinions? Scathing condemnations on my review? Feel free to share below…

#hiptac

© 2023, Hipster Tactical

Beretta PX4 Compact Review: The Reality-Check Pistol

I stood in silent awe. Mouth open. Eyes pensively glazed.

An uncanny manifestation of handgun marksmanship loomed before me: 30+ bullet holes in the tightest pattern I’d ever seen on paper.

Slowly, my attention shifted to my strong hand—in which there was… a pistol.

I half expected to see a Neuhausen Sig P210, a Walther P88, or some high-dollar 1911. Something that could explain what I was seeing on the target. Something that had a legendary reputation for accuracy and unquestioned precision—and a price tag to reflect that. 

Nope.

In my hand, was a Beretta PX4 Compact. And with it, I had just shot the best group I’d ever shot @ 10 yards.

And that, my fellow gun hipsters, is what I call a “reality check.”

Unfortunately, I don’t have a pic of that “historic” group I just mentioned. So, you’ll have to settle for a PX4 glamour shot.

What makes the Beretta PX4 hipster worthy?

With its unique rotary mechanics, the Beretta PX4 transforms recoil into a seamless conduit of sensory feedback, making every shot feel astonishingly precise, predictable and intuitive.

Shooting a PX4 seems to transcend consciousness.

You don’t think. You know—where, how and when your shots are hitting. There’s no uncertainty. No ambiguity. Just seamless, unabated accuracy.

The recoil impulse is incomparably smooth. Almost timeless. It keeps you in the moment. It keeps you connected to your point of aim, your trigger break, your point of impact. It seems to know where you want to put your next shot.

Maybe before you do.

Is the PX4 really that good?

Yeah, the thing is damn accurate. But is it more accurate than other inherently accurate pistols?

Honestly, I don’t think so. But the way the PX4 shoots and handles makes its accuracy so… available. No doubt, my Beretta 92, Walther P88, Walther P5 and Sig P239 routinely put up groups that make me smile. I have no complaints with any of those pistols. And I’m not saying there’s a vast gulf in terms of accuracy/shootability between those fine pistols and the PX4.  

But, after not shooting my PX4 for a while, a recent range trip really put things in perspective: This gun is special.

It’s not just the accuracy. 

The PX4’s eminent glory, captured in a ray of sunlight.

It’s the way in which you experience, perceive and implement the accuracy. And while there are some aspects of the PX4 Compact that, for me, ultimately make it less than ideal for its intended purpose (but don’t worry—it’s 100% reliable), its incredible shootability is more than enough to justify owning one. 

And we’re not talking about some $1,000+, bougie/boutique-y pistol, here. This is a modern, polymer-framed pistol that costs what other modern polymer-framed pistols cost.

So, yeah. The PX4 is that good.  

And if you don’t want to read the rest of the review, I think you’d be thrilled to own one. It’s a pistol that must be experienced to be understood… even believed.

But let’s get into what makes this thing tick… er, spin…

A Different Spin on Breech Locking

In case you’ve been living under a tactical rock for the past 15 years, the Beretta PX4 series uses a distinctive rotating breech-lock system.

So, instead of tilting down and back to unlock from the slide, the barrel turns on its axis as it retracts (about a third of a turn) which disengages a series of asymmetrical locking lugs and allows the slide to complete its rearward cycle. The barrel has a slanted cam track machined into its rear lug assembly which mates with an angular “nub” on a special “camming block” that slots-in under the barrel. This is what turns the barrel as it retracts, under recoil. Upon returning to battery, the barrel gets cammed back around and the lugs re-lock into their respective nooks and crannies in the slide.

It's pretty cool.

The camming block, next to the barrel. You can see the angled cam-track on the barrel and the corresponding “nub” on the cam block.

To be clear, the PX4 is not the first gun to use a rotary breech-lock system—nor is it the only gun to currently offer such a system (the Slovakian Grand Power guns use rotating barrels). Other guns that utilized a rotary system include the Mexican Obregon, the Sig/Mauser M2 and the Boberg/Bond bullpup guns. Glock even makes a model for European police—the Glock 46—which uses a rotating barrel.

You can see the main locking lug on the left of the barrel and the camming slot on the right.

But the PX4 is the most well-known, most prevalent gun to employ the system. Well, the PX4 and its rotary rockin’ predecessor, the Cougar—which, in my experience, shares the sublime shooting characteristics of the PX4.

Speaking of sublime shooting characteristics…

“Uniquely Communicative”

In past reviews, I’ve used this phrase to describe how pistols with falling-block actions—namely the Beretta 92 and the Walther P5—feel a little different than pistols with tilting barrels. 

To me, falling-block guns seem to recoil a bit slower and more predictably; I find I’m able to stay more engaged with my point of aim and more connected to how and where my shots are hitting. In a sense, it’s like I’m in a “conversation” with the gun. 

The PX4 and its big brother

The PX4 certainly has this quality. And then some. Honestly, I tend to think the PX4 is even more engaging and more communicative than the falling-block guns.

While I can’t say for certain what was going through the heads of Beretta’s engineers back in the ‘90s, I have to believe they recognized and appreciated the 92’s intuitive shooting characteristics. So, it stands to reason that they’d want to preserve this quality—if not accentuate it—in their next major pistol platform.

Which, as it so happens, was NOT the PX4. 

So, I picked up this hot Cougar back in 2016… 

The story of the Beretta PX4 begins with the Beretta Cougar (which I mentioned before). The Cougar—aka, the 8000 series—debuted in 1994 and it represents Beretta’s initial foray into the world of rotating barrels. 

Beretta 8000 Cougar—the PX4’s progenitor. Photo courtesy of Wikipedia.

In a sense, the Cougar is a PX4 with a metal frame. Now, that’s a gross oversimplification. Any Beretta engineer reading this is surely face-palming now. But… having trigger time with both platforms, there is some truth to it: the defining characteristics of the shooting experience are common to both guns.

Internet lore seems to suggest that the Cougar was not particularly successful or well-loved when it was in production. I could see that being true. Compared to a 92, it was short, fat and… ahem… “proportionally distinctive.” Personally, I think the Cougar looks freakin’ cool. But up against the 92’s classically graceful lines, it probably was a bit of an “acquired” taste—which, I guess, not too many were willing to acquire 25 years ago. 

But, regardless of aesthetics, the Beretta Cougar can _uckin’ shoot. I know because I had one.

In .45.

It was probably the smoothest shooting .45 I’ve ever experienced. It shot just as softly as my Smith & Wesson 4506-1, with breathtakingly effortless accuracy. Compared to the HK45c I also owned at the time, the Cougar was just… dreamy. More accurate. Less recoil. Better trigger.

Now, the .45 Cougar’s grip was gigantically fat and the trigger reach was long for my teensy-weensy hands. But the gun shot so incredibly well, those nitpicky details just didn’t matter.

Unfortunately, I had some failures to feed with that Cougar. [insert obligatory cougar innuendo]

But I later realized I was putting waaay too much moly grease in the rotating action. Because, like most budding gun hipsters, I thought grease was the avowed lubricant of the tactical intelligentsia and oil was for losers. But I’m fairly certain all that viscous white sludge was making the action sluggish and causing it limp into battery. After that experience, I’ve only used oil in the rotating action of my PX4 Compact; 2,000+ rounds later, I’ve never had an issue.

In any case… 

In the early 2000s, the pistol market was changing. Polymer frames were becoming ubiquitous. Glock was growing in popularity. Younger buyers were looking for more modern offerings. And while Beretta had offered the polymer-framed 9000 series beginning in the late 90s, for reasons I’m still not entirely clear on… everyone _ucking hated that gun. Which makes me kinda want one, honestly.

Again, I can’t be certain what Beretta’s thought process was… but… I think they knew they had something special in the rotating-barrel design. Something that was inherently shootable. Something that was intuitively accurate. And maybe they figured that with a more modern take on the Cougar, they could find success where the 9000 had failed.

The PX4—looking ethereal AF.

Thus, in 2004, the Beretta Cougar died quietly and the PX4 was born. Though it’s worth noting that the venerable Cougar did live on as the Stoeger Cougar for another 10 years or so, when Beretta moved the Cougar tooling to Turkey.

The PX4 subcompact was subsequently released in 2008. The PX4 compact—which this review covers—was last of the PX4 trio, released in 2011.

More on the various “flavors” of PX4 later.  

What goes around comes around

Rotating barrels must have some kinda magic.

As I’ve said, both the PX4 and the Cougar are outstanding in terms of their inherent shootability. I’ve also heard that the Grand Power guns—all of which use rotating actions—are impressively accurate. Same with the Mauser M2 series, despite their stiff DAOish triggers.

So, what is it about a rotating action that enables this plush, predictable, precise character in terms of shooting dynamics?

Truth be told, I’m not entirely sure.

The stock explanation is that the rotational mechanics bleed off more recoil energy because… well… I guess there’s more movement occurring with rotation vs. the abrupt, jerky motion of tilting. I’m sure there’s truth to that. However, there is one other thing I noticed about the PX4’s action.

The rearward travel of the PX4’s barrel is slightly longer than tilting-barrel designs.

Locked back, the PX4’s barrel seems to retract slightly farther than tilt barrel and falling block designs.

Not a ton. And my measurements are far from precise. But… plotting half-inch tick marks on a sheet of paper, here’s some rough measurements of how far the muzzle moves forward from lock-back to battery:

• P239 & P99 (tilting action) – ~1/4 inch

• Beretta 92 & Walther P5 (falling block action) - ~1/3 inch

• PX4 (rotating action) – Just under 1/2 inch 

Interestingly, the slide travel on all these guns was similar—just under 2 inches of travel.

So, then…

Does more barrel travel = more “feel” in the recoil impulse?

These crude measurements would seem to suggest that—especially when you see the falling-block guns falling (ha!) somewhere in the middle. But certainly there are many more factors in play here than one gun nerd with a tape measure can account for.  

Regardless, I tend to think that more motion during the recoil cycle—be it length of travel, rotation and/or both—translates to a slower cycle, which translates to a less abrupt, less-distracting recoil impulse.

That is, of course, just a theory.

So, whenever I get into these quasi-technical musings, it comes with the caveat that I’m not an engineer. So, please chime in if you know better or different.

In any case…

Here’s what you need to take away from all this: The Beretta PX4 is…

One hell of a great shooter 

If I had to describe the experience of shooting a PX4 in one word, it would be:

Seamless.

From sight picture, to trigger break, to recoil impulse, to hole on target… everything falls into a smooth, harmonious cadence. Nothing breaks your sense of connection to the shot. And that plush, relaxed recoil impulse is your conduit for that sense of connection. Plus, the bore axis doesn’t feel especially low, but the there’s almost zero muzzle rise.

It’s almost… weird. But awesome.

Especially when churning out groups like this starts to feel easy. 

50 rounds @ 10 yards, in the center. Somehow one went high…

And that’s the thing—I shoot tight groups with other guns. I put one mag almost into a single hole with a Sig P239, recently.

But it just feels a little easier with the PX4. And to me, that matters in a combat gun. That means you’re less likely to lose accuracy under stress. That means you’re not fighting the gun to make hits when you need to be fighting a real threat.

In that, I think the PX4 is simply a superb fighting pistol.

Tactilely Tactical

Moreover, the gun’s human inputs—namely the grip and the single-action trigger (more on the DA trigger)—are exceptionally good, in my opinion.  

Now, there’s no ergonomic wizardry when it comes to the grip. But there doesn’t need to be—the width, the depth, the contour, and the angle of the backstrap are all on point. Overall, it has fairly upright grip angle. I dig it, personally. The Makarov pistol has a pretty “straight-up” angle too and it, similarly, feels great to me. Same deal with the Cougar, too. And while the Talon grips are a nice add, the proportions/angle of the PX4’s grip are so well done, the gun still feels secure in the hand without them.

In any case…

I get a fantastically secure, comfortable hold on the pistol. And even my short index finger finds a comfortable reach to the trigger—which is excellent, I might add.

The grip’s contours and the resultant trigger reach are damn near perfect—even for my small hands.

At least in single action.

Mind you, I do have the “Compact Carry” variant of the PX4, which includes the “competition trigger package.” I also put a 12lb recoil spring in mine (lighter than stock) and the Langdon “Optimized Performance” trigger bar. Those are all “nice to haves,” yes. But I have shot a stock PX4 Compact—in single action, the trigger is still freakin’ great and completely shootable. 

NOTE: I’m not gonna mention any of those upgrades in the YouTube review—it’s against YouTube’s policy to talk about “modifying” firearms. So… who knows how they’ll see that stuff.

Beretta knows how to make great single-action triggers in a DA/SA guns. The PX4—and the Cougar—easily equal the 92 in that respect.  

So, yeah… I think the PX4 Compact is awesome. But honestly, I don’t carry it much. Which you might find surprising, since I just raved about it for roughly 6 MS word/Calibri/single-spaced pages.

Let me tell you why.

Big Beautiful Weapon

I’m not one to body shame. And I think the PX4 Compact is beautiful, just the way it is. But when it’s in my pants…

I start to feel a little different. Because the thing is wiiide.

Just to contextualize that, my review of the Legacy Sig P229 is called “Worth the Girth.” Because, you know, the P229 is fat. Well, the PX4 Compact is fatter. It’s fatter than a Beretta 92. It’s fatter than a Walther P99 or a PPQ. I’m willing to bet it’s fatter than an HK Mark 23.

You can see how the PX4C’s slide (bottom) is a few millimeter’s thicker than the Legacy P229’s slide (top)—which is already girthy.

But maybe not a Desert Eagle. Or that 30mm cannon they put in A10 Warthogs.

Now I’m talking about the slide width, here. When the internet gives you widths of pistols, it’s always across some random lever you don’t really care about.

But… as wide as the PX4’s slide is, the gun’s soft contours and low-profile levers (which come standard on the Compact Carry model) do make it carry more comfortably than you’d think it might. There are no sharp edges on the gun and its overall shape just seems kinda biomorphic. So, it’s not pokey and irritating when it’s in your pants.

PX4C and Old School P229. Both chonky—but the PX4 is chonkier.

But you feel the bulk of the slide. Moreover, the gun’s girth tends to create more of bulge at the beltline (talking appendix carry, specifically) which doesn’t look entirely inconspicuous in lighter clothing. The grip length? It’s not overly long. But it’s not short enough or thin enough, in my opinion, to do you any big favors in terms of concealability. 

Is it un-carryable? Certainly not. Recently, I have carried it some. Just because it’s such a fantastic shooter… I feel like I should. Like I said, it’s not uncomfortable in the sense that it “rubs you the wrong way.” But when I go back to my Walther P88C or even a Sig P239, the difference in bulk is immediately noticeable. And preferable.  

Now, if you’re very thin waisted, fat guns may not present much of an issue for you. But, as I tell my wife, “I have curves.”

Here’s the thing, though…

I don’t think a rotary action gun will ever have a thin slide. I think that’s just… how they roll.

Ha. Haha. Sigh…

And even if you could fit all the complex rotational mechanics into a thinner slide, I would NOT want to compromise reliability. I’ve fired 2000+ rounds (I stopped counting after a while) through my PX4C and never had an issue. Even with plenty of shitty reman ammo.

P88C left, PX4C right. Which one do you think is more comfortable in your pants?

So, yeah… 

#keepthepx4fat

But there is one other thing I’ll complain about with the PX4…

Double Trouble

While I love SA triggers on Berettas, I’m not as crazy about DA triggers on Berettas.

As I mentioned in my Beretta 92 review, the gun tends to “jostle” in my hands when the hammer falls (I’m talking double action—not single action). It sends what I’d describe as a “shockwave” through the gun, which makes it basically impossible to hold steady as it’s discharging. Needless to say, this screws up my sight picture and affects accuracy.

I find that the PX4 also has this unwelcome quality—albeit less than the 92.

I believe this phenomenon is mainly a product of overtravel. In DA, the hammer seems to release farther forward than other DA systems. So, your finger goes from squeeeeezing to… nothing. And you jerk the gun as you pull through the remaining slack. 

Now, I will say I have small hands. Likely, I’m unable to get enough “hand” around the gun to completely immobilize it against the “jostle” when the hammer falls.

Nevertheless, here’s an anecdote to illustrate what I’m talking about…

A few years ago, I was doing some casual USPSA steel competitions. I used my PX4C. Because… it shoots phenomenally. But 8 times out of 10, I missed my first DA shot. I figured, “Okay, I need more practice.” And that’s probably true—you can always use more practice.

But then, one fateful day…

I had my PX4 in the shop for some sight work. So, I took my Smith & Wesson 6904 to a competition—mainly because my buddy has a 6906 and I borrowed his mags. Honestly, I didn’t expect too much out of a bone-stock cop carry pistol from 1994.

But I don’t think I missed one DA shot.  

The difference was night and day. The Smith & Wesson’s DA trigger was so much easier to hit with. And here’s thing: the Smith’s DA pull is actually heavier than the PX4’s; there’s just something inherent to Beretta’s DA lockwork that makes it tougher (for me, anyway) to handle.  

Once I got into SA, the 6904 was nowhere near as quick and capable as the PX4. But when every second counts, you want to be able to depend on that first hit off the buzzer.

I did recently install the Langdon Tactical Optimized Performance Trigger Bar in my PX4.

In addition to reducing the reset, Langdon claims the OP trigger bar reduces overtravel. And it delivers on that. It’s a big improvement.

I was aiming around the neck, decocting between shots. It’s good enough to hit a steel plate at 10 yards, I guess. I can’t remember if the string on the bottom was DA only or not. If it was… not bad.

The pattern on the head/neck area is DA only. I suppose it’s decent enough for self-defense—and probably even steel plates. Still… shooting DA only, I think I can pull tighter groups with a Sig, a Smith 3rd gen or a DA/SA Walther. I found the DA on my FN HP-DA to be damn solid, too.  

All that said…

I tend to see the DA/SA system as a willful compromise: you know you’re giving up some precision/speed on your first shot to have that seamlessly safe / ready-to-shoot mode of carry. So, given that caveat I don’t expect bullseye accuracy out of the DA in any DA/SA gun.

Nevertheless, I believe one’s DA performance must fall within a certain envelope of “acceptable” accuracy. Of course, that’s subjective. But… I can definitely get there with the PX4—especially when you throw in an OP trigger bar and a lighter hammer spring.

But is it reliable?  

Yup.

Like I said, I’ve put somewhere north of 2,000 rounds through mine. Maybe closer to 2,500. Never an issue. And that seems to be the norm, based on what I’ve read.

Now, rotating actions do seem to have a reputation for being more sensitive to dirt, crud and less-than-ideal lubrication practices. Case and Point: my .45 Cougar actually choked (FTFeed) when I slathered the camming action in grease.

So don’t do that.  

A few drops of boring, plebian gun oil in the cam track / nub has always kept my PX4 running perfectly. I haven’t always cleaned it between range trips. I haven’t always re-lubed it between range trips. But I never shoot the thing dry.  

And it has never jammed.

It’s also worth noting that the rotating action is considered to be extremely tough and durable.

Ernest Langdon endurance tested the PX4 Compact up into the 50,000 round-count territory. He replaced springs and minor parts. But the barrel, slide and frame showed no durability issues and the gun showed no discernable loss in accuracy.  

Moreover, in a recent interview with James Reeves of TFBTV, Beretta’s chief of marketing—Carlo Ferlito—recently stated that they have not been able to actually “wear out” a PX4. He also says that it’s probably their most “underrated” design, as he extolls its virtues in terms of not only longevity, but accuracy.  

Can’t say I disagree.

In that interview, Mr. Ferlito also notes that the PX4 does indeed serve with armed professionals around the world. You don’t hear a lot about the PX4’s LE/MIL service. But… it’s definitely a thing. A visit to Wikipedia show’s the PX4 is in service with various US police agencies and various international militaries—including special-operations units in India, South Korea and Chile.

If it’s good enough for spec-ops soldiers… it’s good enough for you.

PX4s Galore

So, if you’re considering a PX4 you probably know they come in different flavors. Basically, there’s:

The Full Size – 4-inch barrel | 9mm, .40, .45

The Compact – 3.27-inch barrel | 9mm, .40

The Subcompact – 3-inch barrel | 9mm, .40

My experience is solely with the compact. I’ve never shot a full-sized model or a subcompact. But I have heard the full-size is fantastic. No doubt, it has all benefits in terms of shootability described above, combined with the benefits of a larger gun (e.g., lower recoil, longer sight radius, etc.). Nutnfancy has a review on it. He raves about it.

While the PX4 has never been known for its looks, I find the Compact to have best proportions and lines of all 3 size options

One other thing—and most of you reading this probably already know this…

The subcompact PX4 does NOT use the rotating-barrel mechanism.

It has a good ole’ tilt barrel. Now, I’ve heard it’s a fine, reliable handgun. But, for me, the whole point of the PX4 is the sublime shooting characteristics you get with the rotating barrel. So… just wanted to put that out there.

Then, there are the Langdon PX4 models: the “Carry” and the “Compact Carry.”

As I said, I have the “Compact Carry”—which is a normal PX4 Compact, with:

• Low-profile levers

• A gray cerakote finish

• A proprietary Ameriglo night-sight setup

• The competition trigger pack

The “Carry” is a normal full-size PX4, with all those same improvements.

Are the Langdon improvements worth several hundred over the normal compact or full size?

Maybe?

Honestly, I could take or leave the sights, the finish and even the trigger pack (like I said, normal PX4 triggers are dope). But the low-profile levers are really a nice option if you do plan to carry the gun. And the annoyance of ordering those separately and installing them yourself would be… well… annoying.

Also…

Only the full-size PX4 is available in .45. I’ve heard it’s wonderful. And if it shoots anything like that .45 Cougar I had… it is.

Interestingly, the manual for my compact (which is specific to the compact) actually references a .45 in the compact flavor.  So, there must have been plans for one at some point. Man, that would be a sweet mid-sized .45. Beretta—I’m game if you ever decide to release it.

FINALLY…

There’s the PX4 “Special Duty”—which is tricked-out “tactified” full-size .45. Honestly, I think it’s kinda ugly. YMMV. But I’m sure it shoots so incredibly well, I wouldn’t give half a _hit about how it looks.

Plus, I’m not sure anyone buys a PX4 for looks. You buy it because it shoots like nothing else.

In Conclusion

And that leads me to my final thoughts.

Buy a PX4 if you value no-BS accuracy in a handgun. Buy a PX4 if you want one of the best-shooting handguns available right now, for any price. Buy a PX4 if you want a solid, reliable, well-engineered product from one of the greatest companies in history. Buy a PX4 if you don’t mind some extra girth and a less-than stupendous DA trigger pull.

But above all… 

Buy a PX4 if you don’t have one. Because you’ll freakin’ love it.

Thank you so much for reading.

BUT WAIT!! What about the Walther P99?!

Oh, yeah…

In my recent overview of my current gun collection,  I mentioned how much I love the Walther P99 series. More specifically, I mentioned how favorably the P99 compares to the PX4, in the “mid-sized, polymer-framed DA/SA pistol” category.

Euro, polymer, DA/SA, mid-sized, 9mms… FIGHT!!

So, which do I like better?

“Yes.” :)

Both guns are fantastic. Both guns have their respective strong points. Neither gun has any glaring weaknesses, in my opinion.

That said, I still don’t think anything can touch the PX4 when it comes to just pounding through rounds in single action. The thing is just… magic.

But the P99 is definitely a shooter. And when you zoom out from that pure expression of single-action shootability, the P99’s merits become more and more apparent.

To that end, I’d like to do a more “formal” (I mean, is anything I do “formal”?) head-to-head comparo between the PX4 & P99. Because, to me, they’re not only the best in their class… they’re both sorta under-appreciated.

So…

Stay tuned, my friends. And stay hipster.

Hip-Tac out.

What are your thoughts on the Beretta PX4? Experiences? Opinions? Scathing condemnations on my review? Feel free to share below…

#hiptac

© 2022, Hipster Tactical

FN HP-DA / BDA9 Review: The Mysterious DA/SA Hi Power

A shadowy form beckons.

Dark. Lonely. Forlorn and forgotten. Yet somehow familiar.

But not as you once knew it.

In its dusky silhouette, a vague memento of the past lingers. Another time. Another life. A fleeting echo of something you once felt and even… loved.

And that’s what haunts you. Yet, compels you—as you gaze upon its sinewy, angular visage.

The FN HP-DA is steeped in enigma… and creepy beads.

In so many ways, it is the Browning Hi Power for which your heart once burned. Yet it is different. Altered. Transformed by the darkness. A darkness that you now embrace. Willingly. Voraciously. Only to realize…

“The FN HP-DA is one helluva nice pistol. Even if it’s not an actual Hi Power.”

Or is it??

Ch, ch, ch, ch… ah, ah, ah, ah

So then, let us face the forbidden mysteries of FN’s oft-forgotten double-action wondernine… together. And dare to ask…

What makes the FN HP-DA hipster worthy?

The FN HP-DA conjures an alluringly graceful mystique, combining the svelte poise of the original Hi Power with the sophisticated design of a modern DA/SA combat pistol.

The HP-DA is a ghost.

A wraith. A specter. A phantasm. An urban legend. Hell, I’m surprised gun hipsters don’t stand in front of mirrors repeating “BLOODY BDA” until a gore-stained pistol emerges and drags them back to… umm, Belgium.

There’s just enough about it on the internet to hint that some kind of a modernized, double-action Hi Power variant exists… somewhere. But no one’s seen it. No one knows anything about it. No one really even knows what to call it.

Including FN, apparently.

What’s in a Name?

Depending on who you ask, where and when, it’s sometimes called the HP-DA (Hi Power Double Action) and sometimes called the BDA-9 (Browning Double Action). I’m gonna stick with “HP-DA.” Because that seems truer to what this gun really is than anything.

To that point…

In many ways, the HP-DA literally is a Browning Hi Power with DA/SA guts. In fact, I would argue that it’s more of a true Hi Power than the “High Power” FN introduced earlier this year (2022).

But it’s also a very different gun from the original Hi Power. It feels different. It shoots different. Its subjective character and its essential qualities are just different.

I conjured a wondernine…

So where does that leave us?

It leaves us with a very interesting gun that (with the exception of the Finnish armed forces) failed to capture the interest of very many—even though it was basically FN’s flagship handgun product in the ‘80s and ‘90s. In fact, modern gun culture seems perfectly comfortable believing the HP-DA never existed at all.

But it does exist. Much like sasquatch. And shadow people. And contemporary west-coast rap. And by the end of this review, I will make you a true believer… in the legend of the FN HP-DA.

Believe…

The Legend Begins

And, like most legends, this one remains shrouded in the mists of time, fate and really shitty product portfolio management. Nevertheless, it begins somewhere shortly before the XM9 trials of the 1980s…

As the United States geared up to replace the 1911 with a modern DA/SA 9mm, nearly every major handgun manufacturer wanted a piece of that phat government-contract pie. Of course, Beretta had the 92. Sig was gathering steam with its P2XX line. And Smith & Wesson had its 459s and 439s.

And FN?

Had the venerable Browning Hi Power—aka, the P35. Which absolutely wasn’t gonna cut it, with its old-fashioned single-action only lock work.

But FN also happened to have a designer named Leon Hubert (hu.BARE). In the mid ‘70s, Hubert designed the thoroughly modern, and thoroughly double-action, BDA .380—aka, the FN 140DA. While FN outsourced production of the BDA .380 to Beretta (which eventually spawned the Beretta Cheetah series of guns), the handsome “Belg-talian” .380 saw some degree of law-enforcement service in Europe during the ‘70s and ‘80s. Apparently, it earned a reputation for quality and reliability.

And apparently Mr. Hubert earned a reputation for designing mad-decent guns.

I see the ensuing dialogue going something like this…

FN: You know how you designed that double-action .380 that everyone seems to like?

Hubert: Yup.

FN: You know how we have a single-action 9mm that everyone seems to like?

Hubert: Yup.

FN: Can you, like, put those two things together? In one gun? That can win the largest handgun contract in history?

We all know how that turned out.

But… 

Before we speculate as to how/why/when the HP-DA bowed out of the XM9 trials, let’s talk about how Mr. Hubert imbued the venerable Hi Power with some DA/SA black magic. 

A dark spirit manifested… who happens to like belly rubs.

Hi Power at Heart

Caveat: I get into more technical detail, here, than I do in most of my reviews. But I was curious about how the mechanics of this thing compare to an “actual” Hi Power. So, I figured y’all might be too. Also—I’m not an engineer. So, I did my best to explain this stuff in layman’s terms.

Despite its many departures from original Browning/Saive design, the FN HP-DA still has the beating heart of a P35. And since I have an MKIII Hi Power that was made in the same general timeframe, I can give you a halfway decent comparison. I also happen to have a Browning BDM, which—while not mechanically related to the Hi Power family—is worth mentioning because it kinda shows some patterns in FN’s thinking in the ‘90s (FN owns the Browning brand, BTW).

Left to Right: MKIII Hi Power, FN HP-DA, Browning BDM

So, looking at the MKIII Hi Power and the HP-DA…

The barrel, the feed ramp, the concentric locking lugs and the linkless camming slot—all of which define the intrinsic mechanics and dimensions of the pistol—are basically the same. So is the slide, for the most part… aside from having sidewalls that taper out to a slightly greater width. Plus, the HP-DA has a huge Freddy-Kreuger-esque extractor claw that makes the MKIII’s extractor look like a glorified crochet hook. It’s the coolest, most aggressive, most heavy-duty-looking extractor I’ve ever seen on any gun.

Who knew extractors could be sexy? Leon Hubert did, apparently.

Look at that epic extractor on the HP-DA (top).

But… 

Despite the obvious lineage from the Hi Power, none of these components will interchange between HP-DAs and P35s. Everything has slightly different cuts, contours, clefts and/or angles that preclude any crossover. 

Coincidence? I think…

Well… I think we need to talk about the rest of the gun.

Barrels look like they came off the same machine. But you can see the cut on the HP-DA’s camming lug (left) which gives the trigger bar clearance. You can also see how the contour inside the camming slot is different and the notch that holds the guide rod is different.

Below the Belt

Getting down into the fire-control setup, the HP-DA has basically nothing common with the Hi Power.

Instead of running the trigger/sear linkage through the slide (like all single-action HPs), the HP-DA uses a fairly “normal” trigger bar that runs along the inside of the frame wall. But to preserve the svelte profile of the gun, the forward camming lug has a slight cutout (see pic above) on the right side to make room for the trigger bar. The contour within the camming slot is also more rounded because the cross-bar thingy that the barrel cams against is round instead of oblong. Furthermore, the HP-DA’s guide rod doesn’t have that little “ring” to capture the slide-stop pin, so the notch that retains the guide rod is different.

So, given these tweaks, a normal Hi Power barrel would never work in an HP-DA. Or vice versa.

Also…

The top/front of the mags had to be “pinched in” to give the trigger bar clearance. This is why OG Hi Power mags will NOT work in an HP-DA. They go in all the way, but the trigger bar rubs on the front of the mag in DA. Now, P35 mags will feed in an HP-DA IF you hold the mags in the gun. But they don’t latch because FN changed the mag-catch cutout. I guess they didn’t want people using mags that weren’t fully compatible with the gun.

However…

HP-DA mags will work just fine in an OG Hi-Power. And they’re really good mags—they hold the rounds at a slightly higher angle than typical Hi Power mags and the follower seems very stable. I’ve heard they’re made by Mec-Gar? But I can’t confirm that.  

The HP-DA’s sear also moves deeper into the gun, presumably to interface with the lowered (i.e., frame-mounted) trigger bar. Compared to the Hi Power’s “horizontally opposed” sear, the HP-DA’s is more vertical, pivoting from the top; it engages a notch on the bottom of the hammer shank. And, of course, the trigger bar connects with the hammer to achieve double-action functionality.

OG Hi Power frame on the left, HP-DA frame on the right. You can see the trigger bar on the right in the HP-DA.

Moving the trigger/hammer linkage down to the frame also means the firing pin safety (FPS) had to be moved along with it. The FPS on the MKIII Hi Power is cleverly built into its slide-mounted trigger bar: since it’s basically a cantilever/see-saw kinda thing, there’s a spring that pushes down on the front of the bar, so the back end pokes up into the FP channel. Then… you pull trigger… the front of the see-saw moves up… and voila.

Seamlessly disengaged.

Well, that design isn’t an option with the HP-DA. No slide-mounted see-saws, here. So, Mr. Hubert designed the firing pin stop (that little plate thingy on the back of the slide where the firing pin pokes through) to raise up when you pull the trigger, then come down as you release it.

When it’s down… it occludes the firing pin. When it’s up… it doesn’t.

Smart shit.

I’m gonna guess that the Hi-Power/HP-DA slides are just tooo small and narrow to have room for a more typical plunger-style firing-pin safety. I applaud the innovation, either way. It’s really a cool—dare I say “nifty”—design.

MKIII left; HP-DA right. Very similar, overall. But you can see the HP-DA lacks the cantilever that acts as the trigger bar (and the FPS in MKIIIs).

It’s worth noting that (I think) Leon Hubert is also responsible for most of the engineering improvements that went into the MKIII Hi Power, circa ~1988—including the cantilever-ish FPS I described a few paragraphs ago. Clearly a brilliant guy with some elegant and interesting designs to his credit.

Speaking of interesting…

The HP-DA’s hammer is powered by a unique “mousetrap” spring instead of a traditional “coil-on-a-strut” setup. I’m not sure what benefit this provides, other than reduced complexity/parts—and a somewhat “different” trigger feel, which we’ll get to.

Also, the grip-frame/magwell of the HP-DA is more “open” in the rear—it lacks the solid metal backstrap you find in a true Hi Power. Instead, the HP-DA uses a simple one-piece plastic grip that screws into the back of the magwell. This may be a function of that weird mainspring: you don’t need to bury a big ‘ole hammer strut and sear spring in the grip.

The magwell is very “open” in the HP-DA—and you can see the unique “mousetrap” mainspring peeking down from under the “tang.” That stud with hole in it is where the one-piece grip screws in.

Regardless…

Without the steel backstrap, the HP-DA feels less “back heavy” than an MKIII Hi Power. Though I’m not 100% sure that’s a good thing. More on that later.

An Ensemble Cast?

I’m gonna go ahead and guess that the HP-DA’s frame uses the same investment-cast steel metallurgy used on the MKIII Hi Power’s frame. The character of the metal/construction seems similar; both guns feel like they’re kinda “cut from the same cloth.”

Now, I don’t know if the HP-DA’s slide is also made from a casting. As far as I know, the MKIII Hi Powers never had cast slides (only frames). But that doesn’t mean the HP-DA doesn’t. Also, the fact that the slide’s sidewalls taper out to a slightly greater width may indicate an effort to mitigate the greater porosity inherent to cast parts. But that is pure conjecture.

They may have just thickened up the slide to increase reciprocating mass or improve durability. And we’re talking barely a millimeter, here—the HP-DA is still a super-thin gun. Which is awesome.

Interestingly, the contemporaneous Browning BDM definitely does have a cast slide. In fact, I tend to think at least some of the gun is welded together—but I can’t be sure. And to me, the BDM feels NOTHING like the MKIII or the HP-DA. While it does share the mousetrap mainspring and a similar one-piece grip unit with the HP-DA (apparently people were talking), I think it’s safe to say the BDM is not related to the Hi Power family in any way.

And though the BDM feels solid and well put together, it also feels rougher and less refined than the FN-produced guns. Both my MKIII Hi Power and my HP-DA feel like extremely high-quality pieces of machinery. And I tend to think the HP-DA feels even more nicely fit. The slide thunks into battery with grace and gusto. The barrel fits perfectly, muzzle to breech. The slide/frame tolerances are seamless, yet fluid.

You get the sense that it’s not a “consumer” product. It’s a superbly executed piece of military-grade engineering. And it feels like it, in every way.

The shadow warrior. The HP-DA feels like a purpose-built combat pistol. Which it very much is.

No, it’s not quite on the “semi-custom” level of my Walther P88c (for instance)—but it exudes quality, through and through. Everything feels crisp, precise and extremely well fit. I know castings are often seen as the “cheap” alternative to forgings, but trust me: nothing on this gun feels cheap.

In fact, the HP-DA feels…

Like it’s ready to go war. And that’s precisely why it was designed.

So, now we know what kind of mettle (and, umm, metal) this thing is made of, let’s get back to the ‘80s…

[Cue montage with “Push it to the Limit” from Scarface]

The Legend Continues

By 1983 FN had a prototype of the HP-DA ready to roll, which they submitted to the US for evaluation in their mind-boggling litany of highly biased pistol trials that had been taking place since the late 1970s—which, collectively, came to be called the “XM9” trials.

From what I can dig up, the HP-DA participated in the 1984 trial. Which, I guess, was the most definitive phase. All I can tell you for sure, is that FN didn’t win the contract. There’s really no concrete information (that I’ve been able to find) on how it performed or why it was withdrawn. Even books on FN handguns (like, legit tomes of paper and glue) just seem to ignore this pistol. It’s weird.

On one random thread, someone mentioned “teething problems” and FN’s desire to avoid a poor showing—so as not to “taint” the pistol’s reputation for forthcoming commercial sales. But that’s about as much texture as I could find.

Anyway… 

After the Beretta 92 was crowned as the undisputed champion of the wondernine world in 1985, FN had this modern double-action service pistol laying around. Some sources indicate they started selling the thing around that time. Or trying to.

I guess it didn’t go particularly well.

Because, by the early ‘90s, FN had refined the design into what amounted to a “second generation” version of the HP-DA.

Now, EVERY picture I’ve EVER seen of an HP-DA (on forums, Gunbroker listings, articles, blog posts, etc.) has been of this “second generation” version—EXCEPT for one lowly thumbnail on Wikipedia, which shows the “first gen.”

The decocker looks different.

That’s about the only distinction I can see between the first and second gen. And… to be clear, the one I own is the only one I’ve ever seen in person; it’s a “second generation” example.

So, finally, in 1990 / 1991 FN managed to sell their “second gen” HP-DA to Finland. It was adopted as the 9.00 PIST 80–91 became the standard-issue pistol for the Finnish armed forces. As of 2022, I’m not sure if the Finns are still using HP-DAs. One somewhat recent forum thread seemed to suggest that spare parts were getting scarce. So, I wouldn’t be surprised if it’s being phased out in Finnish service. Maybe it already has been.

The HP-DA may have seen other contracts too. But Finland was the definitely FN’s biggest customer for the gun and the only military contract that anyone ever references, specifically.

As far as I know, that’s where the HP-DA’s military career ends. Which seems a little… sad? Because, in my ~350 rounds with it, I’ve come see it as a really, really good pistol.

Will it do anything a Beretta 92 or a Sig P226 won’t do? No, not really. But it will do it with a uniquely slender, svelte mystique that probably fits more hands, handles more naturally, and is likely a little easier to carry, day in and day out.

Sometimes the props don’t cooperate…

How Did the HP-DA Fair on the Commercial Market?

From what I can “indirectly glean” from its presence in online discourse… not great.

It seems to be much more prevalent in Europe and potentially other parts of the world, outside of North America. I’ve seen a few videos in Turkish, on YouTube—in one, a gentleman discusses it for a few minutes. Unfortunately, I don’t speak a lick of Turkish, so I wasn’t able to learn anything from that. A video from “Bloke on the Range” in Switzerland also discusses it briefly; the way he talks about it suggests that HP-DAs (he calls his a “BDA-9”) aren’t quite the moonrocks that they are here in the states. 

Yet, it was sold commercially here in North America. For a brief stint in the early 2000s, I believe. In fact, I scrounged up a Guns Magazine article from 2001 that covers it. That article suggests it was sold by FN (not Browning) as a law-enforcement product, but still could be purchased by private individuals.

And while the rehashed platitudes on the internet suggest it was called the “BDA-9” in the US and the “HP-DA” in Europe… I kinda think it was the other way around.

I’ve read that Browning didn’t want to import this thing in the ‘90s because they wanted to sell the BDM domestically. Then, fast forward to the early 2000s after the BDM flopped… we have FN importing the HP-DA as a quasi-LE offering.

Seems to me they sold this as an FN product and Browning had nothing to do with it.

Plus, every commercially imported example of this gun I’ve seen on Gunbroker, etc. has been marked “HP-DA” with an FN-branded box (if there was a box at all).

And I think that’s a big reason for this gun’s absence from handgun canon in the United States: It never really fit into the whole “Browning” narrative.

And if it wasn’t a Hi Power… what was it?

Let’s talk about that. 

Heart & Soul 

While the HP-DA has the heart of a Hi Power, it doesn’t really have the soul of a Hi Power. Yes, it retains the slender, eminently pointable grace you find in a Hi Power… but you experience that in a different way.

If grabbing a Hi Power gives you “the warm fuzzies,” holding an HP-DA gives you the “cool slickness.” If the Hi Power is Grace Kelly in Rear Window, the HP-DA is Kate Beckinsdale in Underworld. It’s smart. It’s suave. It’s dark and seductive. It feels precise, efficient and intentional.

And so does every shot you take.

I take no issue with Selene using chrome-plated P99s in Underworld. But the HP-DA definitely coulda’ been a contender…

Take Your Best Shot

BANG! BANG!

It’ll stack holes on holes at 10 yards.

50 rounds @ 10 yards. A teeny bit low left, but you can see the group is very tight and precise. Just a few flyers ‘cause I suck.

BANG! 

The single-action trigger is crisp, light and precise. But it’s honestly a little “touchy.” It feels less direct than other SA triggers. Maybe a bit hollow? It’s like you can’t really sense the sear about to release, like you can in other SA triggers. I’m thinking it might have something to do with that unique “mousetrap” mainspring.

It’s certainly not a bad trigger, by any means. It’s just little unpredicta— 

BANG!  

—ble.

But if your cool trigger-control skillz can match the HP-DA’s cool vibes, it will reward you with incredibly precise shot placement. I don’t know if it’s more accurate than my MKIII Hi Power, but sometimes it feels like it.

Click… BANG! 

And if you decock, you’re treated to a wonderfully shootable DA stroke. That uniquely light action—which can feel a bit abrupt in SA—makes for a smooth, seamless pull in DA. You don’t feel that escalating tension like you do when you’re pulling against a “normal” coiled mainspring. Again, it still feels a bit hollow and vague. But… targets don’t lie. I pulled some of my better DA-only shot groupings with this gun.

That said…

@ 10 yards, decocking between shots. This gun is VERY shootable in DA.

Feel Matters

And, to be clear, the HP-DA feels good in the hand. Really good, actually. But “good” in a more dispassionate, functional, kinda way. While the Hi Power gives you a visceral sense of connection to the gun, the HP-DA gives you… well… exactly what FN’s corporate design team wanted you to feel back in 1983. 

The ergonomics are very deliberate.

The grip has thoughtful curves, shelves, angles and contours that speak to a very specific vision of how you should interface with the pistol. And—for me—that vision seems to entail shooting an inch or so left of where I’m aiming. 

Just a touch.

Now, the BDM—on the other hand—shoots waaaaaay left. Like, it’s not even close. I’ve never shot a gun that hits so far off POA. The sights seem aligned. The bore seems straight. I dunno? It groups pretty well and it’s reliable. But, for me, it’s basically unshootable.

The HP-DA is nothing like that. I tend to think the gun’s “deliberate” ergonomics are just a bit more sensitive to shooter inputs than some guns. For instance, the sides of the HP-DA’s grip angle inward toward the front strap. So, you’ve gotta pivot your support hand in to match the angle of grip AND maintain enough pressure to keep it from rotating left. Add that to a somewhat touchy trigger…

You can’t be lazy with this thing.  

And I tend to think that solid steel backstrap on the original Hi Power pays dividends in terms of keeping the gun planted in the hand. The HP-DA’s grip is bigger and fills the hand better, but it’s no substitute for a little extra junk in the trunk behind the slide.

Also, the sights aren’t great. Instead of 3 white dots, you get 3 little white squares. To me, a square doesn’t “pop” as much as a round dot. But sights are subjective. And I do think some the commercially imported HP-DAs (of which there were, like, 11) did come with dots as opposed to squares. But I think those sights were actually plastic? Which seems kinda janky… 

The grip has very “intentional” contours—which I honestly don’t love. You can see I added some grip tape… but removed it for the review.

Now, after a few range trips, some skateboard tape and “Sharpie’d-out” rear sights, I felt like I was able to sort out these quirks, for the most part. In fact, I was very happy with the 50-round group I put up in my last trip. The gun is DEFINITELY accurate. And, overall, it’s a very nice shooter. Soft. Pleasant. Easy to shoot fast. Just as you’d expect from an all-steel pistol with a 4.7-inch barrel. But you have to focus. You can’t rush it.

Another thing that kinda sucks…

You Get What You Get

Your aftermarket grip and sight options are basically nonexistent. Hi Power sights won’t fit the dovetails (I checked). And your only other option for grips is KSD in Turkey. Now, I like the KSD grips I have on my Smith & Wesson 6904. But KSD basically creates exact facsimiles of factory grips… which, as we’ve discussed… are kinda goofy on the HP-DA.

I might order some KSDs at some point. But, I’m not really expecting much of an ergonomic departure from the factory grips. I’ve also considered taking a Dremel to a pair of factory grips (which you can buy on Numrich) for a “recontouring” job. We’ll see.

Also, magazines are _uckin hard to come by.

As I’ve said, Hi Power mags will NOT work in the HP-DA. However, BDM magazines WILL. But I’ve noticed the feed lips are a little different; the BDM mags hold the rounds at a slightly lower angle. That said, I ran quite a few rounds through this gun with BDM mags. No stoppages. But I prefer to use the “native” HP-DA mags. And I tend to think it fed a little more smoothly with those? But maybe that’s just my imagination.

Speaking of “native” HP-DA mags…

The neutered, ban-era 10-round HP-DA mags seem to pop up online, from time to time. But the standard 14-rounders are basically unobtainium. At least in the United States.

My gun came with just one 10-rounder (which is probably why it was a decent price). That said, I managed to score TWO 14-rounders through shrewd and draconian Gunbroker tactics. Check out the video review if you wanna hear how I swung that.

So, Why Own an HP-DA? 

Well… it’s a curiosity.

An interesting footnote in handgun history. An homage to FN’s less-than successful efforts to embrace the wondernine revolution of the 1980s. If you run across one, you probably aren’t gonna carry it in any sort of defensive capacity. 

But you can bet your hipster ass I will.

Honestly, this gun checks some key boxes in terms of carry, for me. It’s soooo slender. And that, to me, is a huge selling point for P35-based guns. In a sense, the Hi Power and its descendants are inherently compact pistols—just with long slides. The cross section of the guns is just smaller than most service pistols. Case and Point: My Hi Power and my HP-DA will fit in a Kahr arms holster (it’s an open muzzle design). Perfectly. Sigs, Berettas and even my Walther P88c won’t come close.

That’s a Kahr PM9 holster. No joke.

So, the HP-DA is very comfortable in the waistband. Obviously, the OG Hi Power is too, but it’s SAO. Not that I’m opposed to carrying C&L, but I prefer DA/SA overall. And, with a decocker, you don’t have to deal that meat-grinder of a hammer poking into your gut.

Obviously, the BDM checks those boxes as well. And it also carries very, very well. I just can’t shoot the damn thing.

And as the cool embrace of autumn descends upon the mystical realm of the midwestern United States, it’s going to make a very comfortable full-sized carry option. I may continue to pursue better sight and grip solutions, but I’m generally happy with how it shoots and handles, as is.

Plus, it’s been 100% reliable in the ~350 rounds I’ve put through it.

It’s actually really comfortable, too (this is our loft—which is part man-cave, part closet and all shit-show)

Conclusions

The enigmatic HP-DA lurks—alone—in the cold, dim aether that lies beyond the mortal plane of well-known service pistols. But... should you be willing to brave the shadows and ardently seek its favor—it will loyally grant your greatest gun hipster wishes.   

It’s a fantastic pistol.

That’s actually some kinda wax burning thing. I dunno—ask my wife.

And, like most fantastic pistols that don’t really get a chance to shine, its merits are shrouded in a veil of nuance and misunderstanding. No, it’s not more capable than a Beretta 92. No, it doesn’t quite have the touchy-feely goodness of the original Hi Power.

But shed those expectations, and you find a brilliant middle-ground that gives you the quintessential DNA of a 1980s wondernine, with a feel and a presence and that’s more elegant, refined and…

_ucking sexy.

If you can find an HP-DA at a decent price, go for it. Embrace the shadows. Become one with the legend. And buy weird guns.

Because life is short, my friends. Stay hipster.

What are your thoughts on the FN HP-DA? Experiences? Opinions? Scathing condemnations on my review? Feel free to share below…

#hiptac

© 2022, Hipster Tactical

OG Sig P229 Review (in 9mm): Worth the Girth

Part of me feels compelled to say the OG P229 is “overbuilt” for 9mm.

But I won’t (say that). 

Because it would suggest that 9mm is, in some sense, inappropriate for the P229. And I’m here to tell you that shooting 9mm out of this hulk of a handgun is not only appropriate… it is…

Glorious.

This second-hand leather jacket is big, bulky and awesome—much like this second-hand P229.

It is endearing. It is fulfilling. It is captivating. It is what “Willis” was talking about. It is what Chuck Norris dreams about (if Chuck Norris slept). It is everything you didn’t know you wanted in a magnificently massive—yet somehow still “compact”—handgun.

So, one gun hipster to another, I wanna tell you alllll about it.

What makes the original P229 hipster worthy?

While the OG P229 was specifically designed to handle the higher pressures of .40 S&W and .357 SIG, its requisite bulk makes it an addictively smooth and stable 9mm launcher.

I’ll be honest here.

The P229 isn’t exactly… graceful. In terms of ergonomics, it falls somewhere between a Beretta 92 and a Coke can. Its slide evokes the dimensional sensibilities of a brick. Its bore axis is high. Its trigger reach is long. And it points a little bit like a hairdryer.

But here’s the thing…

You won’t give a _uck about any of that when you’re shooting it.

The P229 ratchets out 9mm slugs like a tactical Pez dispenser. Its trigger break is deftly crisp. Its recoil is nonexistent. And even with a ratty old recoil spring (that probably should’ve been replaced in the Clinton era), the thing is absolutely unflappable. And it makes you feel… absolutely unstoppable.

“But who asked for this?” you may wonder. “Who asked for 30+ oz. ‘Tacti-Brick’ in 9mm parabellum?”

Well, no one. But people did ask for the 10mm auto. And that’s where the story of the Sig P229 begins.

Yes, that’s a random plastic bag in the background. But you came to see the gun—not my mess.

It All Goes Back to 10mm

After several agents were shot to pieces by heavily armed criminals in the infamous Miami shootout of 1986, the FBI embarked on a crusade for a new “wonder cartridge.” Something that could deliver revolver-esque power in a semi-auto form factor. Something that could turn every nascent FBI agent into a veritable Sonny Crockett.

Something like… the 10mm auto.

In 1990, the feds formally adopted the big Smith & Wesson model 1076 to chamber the big 10mm cartridge. But, as they soon learned, the cartridge—and the gun—were just too big.

So, the FBI started underloading the 10mm cartridge to about 2/3s of its ballistic potential. After a year (or so) of this, Smith & Wesson had an epiphany: “If we’re not fully loading the 10mm casing, couldn’t we just make the casing… SHORTER!?”

I’m guessing it was intern who had that idea. You know, the only people in corporate America who are still un-jaded enough to suggest good, solid, common-sense ideas they truly believe in. But I’m sure some dick in a pin-striped suit took all the credit.

Anyway…

The result was the .40 S&W—essentially a shorter, less powerful 10mm. But… it’s still more powerful than 9mm AND short enough to be chambered in 9mm-sized guns.

More power? Same size?  “Yes, please,” said the police departments of America.

And the FBI? The people who started this roller-coaster ride through caliber wonderland?

They just went back to 9mm. 

There are times when we all need a picture of an old-school P229 in a window.

The Forty Factor

As I’m sure many of you know, Glock actually beat Smith & Wesson to the market with the very first .40 S&W handgun: the Glock 23. Regardless, the cartridge gathered steam with law enforcement and soon became the de-facto standard of U.S. police in the ‘90s.

But where was Sig Sauer?

Somewhere behind a gigantic hydraulic press, in Eckernförde Germany. Because the guns they’d been making since the 1970s all used stamped/folded/welded sheet-metal slides—none of which could stand up to the pressures of .40 S&W.

So, Sig designed a new pistol, using the compact(ish) P228 as a template. However, unlike all of Sig’s previous pistols, this new gun would feature a slide machined from solid stainless steel—inherently stronger than the sheet metal slides found on P228s, P226s, P225s and P220s.

L to R: P229, P245, P225 & P239. The P229 and the P239 have machined slides. The P245 and the P225 have stamped slides.

But Sig didn’t stop there. They designed a new short external extractor and they added flared “reinforcing bands” to the lower half the slide, further increasing the weight (and thickness) of the reciprocating mass. The cocking serrations were then cut into these reinforcing bands, only going halfway up the slide.

So, in 1992, Sig unveiled the glorious girth of the P229, chambered in .40 S&W. In 1994, they began offering the P229 in their own house-made super caliber, .357 SIG—which is also based on a shortened 10mm casing, but bottlenecked down to a 9mm-sized projectile.

Then, finally…

Later in ‘94, Sig started making P229s in the lowly, plebian 9mm.

Probably another intern idea.

But before we get into why in hell anyone would want to shoot 9mm mosquito farts out of a 30 oz. beast like the OG P229, let’s clear a few things up in the size and weight department…

Down With the Thickness

Just how fat is the slide of an old-school P229?

Interestingly, it’s more-or-less the exact same width as a Beretta 92 slide. Holding the slides up to each other, bottom to bottom, I couldn’t tell a difference. Slide-width measurements sourced from the internet suggest that the P229 slide might actually be a fraction of a mm wider than a 92 slide:

• Pre-2009 “Legacy” P229 9mm: 28.5mm (sourced from Sigtalk.com)

• Pre-2009 “Legacy” P229 .40/.357: 28.6mm (sourced from Sigtalk.com)

• Beretta 92: 28.2mm (sourced from AR15.com)

P229 slide on a Beretta 92 slide—they’re basically the same width.

 Other slide-width measurements, for reference:

• P228: 25.6mm—basically 1 inch (sourced from Sigtalk.com)

• Post-2009 P229 9mm: 25.8mm—basically 1 inch (sourced from Sigtalk.com)

• Post-2009 P229 .40/.357: ????? (I couldn’t find measurements on this—but I have read they’re wider)

• Ruger P89: 27.0002mm (sourced from thefiringline.com)

The stamped slide of the P245 on the P229 slide. You can see the P229 is notably thicker.

This means the OG P229’s slide is wider (~3mm) than every other P2XX Sig. All of which have pretty much the same ~1-inch slide width. Hell, the OG P229’s slide is even wider than a Ruger P89’s slide (but not the frame).

Now, it’s important to note that Sig changed the design of the P229, starting in 2009.

First of all, they eliminated the wider “reinforcing bands” that had always been present on P229 slides. This means that post-2009 9mm P229s now have a slide width that’s about the same as all other Sigs. I have read that newer .40 & .357 P229s still have slightly wider slides, but without the prominent “reinforcing bands” found on earlier P229s. Sig also gave the new P229 (all calibers) full-height slide serrations for the first time in its history, as well as a newly designed “long” external extractor.

Furthermore, Sig standardized the frames between calibers. 9mm P229s had always used P228 frames (more or less), whereas the .40/.357 P229s used a slightly beefed-up version of that. Newer P229s ALL use the .40/.357 sized frames now. 9mm magazines were also changed to fit these new frame dimensions—namely the roomier mag well.  

Newer 9mm P229s are often called “P229-1s” to reflect this change.

Apparently, the -1 ONLY applies to 9mm P229s. I have read that newer P229 9mm mags are marked “P229-1.” However, aside from appearing on mags, the whole “-1” business isn’t really meant to be a consumer-facing “thing.” At least I don’t think it is.

At the time of the 2009 transition, P229s were generally all American made—and they had been for a while (at least in the USA). Throughout the ‘90s into the early 2000s, P229 frames had been imported from Germany while the slides had ALWAYS been made in New Hampshire. You may occasionally come across a rare all-German, triple serial-numbered P229 in the US. But, as a rule, they didn’t bring many of those to the states. In fact, I tend to think many/most European P229s may also have US-made slides. But I’m not 100% sure on that. If you’re in Europe and you know, please enlighten us!

_ucking get up and get DOWN WITH THE THICKNESS!

One other thing about the “Legacy” (pre-2009) P229s…

.40s & .357s have even BEEFIER slides than the 9mms. But I don’t think the .40/.357 slides are wider overall.

Let me explain…

From what I can tell, older .40/.357 P229s have slightly taller slides than the 9mm versions. Furthermore, the “step” above the flared reinforcing band seems to come in more on the 9mm P229s. So, I THINK the top half of the slide is thicker on the .40/.357s, but not the bottom half. On the newer P229s, I’m not sure how the slides are different between calibers.

Yes, that’s a lot of information. So, here’s the breakdown:

Pre-2009 P229s:

• Often called “Legacy” or “Legacy Slide” models

• Thicker slides with reinforcing bands (~28.5mm width on all calibers)

• Half-height slide serrations

• Short extractors

• Slightly different frame for .40/.357 vs. 9mm

• Beefier (but not wider!) slides on .40/.357 vs. 9mm

Post-2009 P229s:

• 9mms are called “P229-1s” (but not the .40s & .357s)

• 9mms have thinner slides with no reinforcing bands (25.8mm width)

• Anecdotal evidence suggests .40s & .357s are wider than this (but couldn’t find measurements)

• Full-height slide serrations

• Long extractors

• Standardized frame for 9mm and .40/.357

I’ll talk more about Legacy P229s vs. newer P229s later. But for now, back to the review…

The 9mm Beast

So, yeah…

Back in the early ‘90s, some starry-eyed intern had this bright idea to release the P229 in 9mm.

“Stop slide shaming—I’m NOT too fat for 9mm!”

And, like most intern ideas, it was a _uckin’ great one. Compared to the P228 on which it’s based, the Legacy P229’s wider, beefier slide adds roughly 2 ounces to the total weight to the pistol (26.1 oz vs. 28.1 oz, in 9mm). No, that’s not a huge difference.

But again, it’s just in the slide.

I’m no physicist. I’m no engineer. I don’t even own any power tools (except a Dremel). But in my experience, greater mass in a pistol’s slide does help it feel more stable as you’re shooting. I had a P228 and a P226. I do perceive a difference, with the P229.

BANG!

There’s a slight push. But it’s hard to describe that sensation as “recoil.” It’s seamless. It’s transparent. Even with the high bore axis, you barely feel the muzzle rise.

BANG! BANG!

You get the sense you’re not just shooting. Because the Legacy P229 isn’t just a gun—it’s a launch pad. A staunch bulwark of highly engineered metal, grounding and stabilizing every shot you take.

BANG!

The single-action trigger breaks with an understated—yet satisfying—snap. The big, broad trigger shoe gives you a very tactile point of leverage against the sear. And if you can time the reset correctly (which is fairly long, in stock form) double taps are a breeze.

Plus, the double-action trigger is fantastic. Basically no stacking or over travel. I would say it’s the most shootable DA I’ve ever experienced in a Sig. In fact, it rivals the smoothness and consistency of the DA pull on my Smith & Wesson 5906—which, for me, is best in class.

Note: Someone did update the hammer strut on this P229 (and the takedown lever). That definitely helps the DA pull. Don’t worry—these are stock, factory parts (in case YouTube is reading).

BANG! BANG! BANG!

The shots come quick and steady. Your grip remains intact. Your aim holds true. And your desire to launch untold quantities of projectiles through this thing intensifies. Shot after shot. Mag after mag. Box after box.

My first few mags through the P229 @ 10 yards. All single action. Dead on, windage wise—though a few went high.

In 9mm, the OG P229 is a ballistic opiate.

You just want to shoot it.

It makes you happy. It makes you glad you own it. And with its endearingly stout heftiness—crammed into a clean, compact form factor—there’s something satisfying about holding it. Handling it. Shooting it. Something you just _ucking like. It’s dense. It’s solid. It’s well-made. It feels like Sig Sauer at its best.

But, all that said…

I can’t say it’s my best shooting pistol…

It’s All About Communication

Yet.

I mean, I’ve had this thing a grand total of a month.

Even so, I put up some solid groups and gave the 10-ring hell. Also, DA to SA transitions are sublimely smooth and intuitive with this thing. The gun simply excels in that regard. But, in some cases, it slips just a bit left of POA. Not an uncommon problem for me—even with pistols I shoot well.

My second range trip. 50 rounds @ 10 yards, single action. Tight group—though a little left.

As I’ve said in other reviews, I find that some guns are just more communicative. The recoil impulse seems to keep you “in tune” with where, and how, your shots are hitting. The Beretta 92 excels in this regard (for me, anyway).

Now, don’t get me wrong: the P229 feels absolutely fantastic as you’re shooting it. As I said, the whole recoil impulse is seamless and transparent. But, in that, I think you sorta lose your “sense” of the shot—just for a nanosecond—after the trigger breaks.

My experience with the P228, P226 and P225 has been similar, in this respect; I honestly shoot the P239 best of all the classic 9mm Sigs I’ve owned (which is pretty much all of them). Though I think that is mostly a function of the P239 being more suited to small hands.

I actually prefer the Hogue rubber grips to the stock plastic grips. Both are girthy. But at least the Hogues are grippy.

Well, that and the fact that I’ve been shooting P239s for years.

I will also say that I do NOT have the best-est, most up-to-date-est setup in terms of grips and sights for this P229. I didn’t really wanna spend $200+ on extra shit (G10 grips, sights, short-reach trigger, etc.) before writing this review.

So, the gun still has the factory bar-dot sights (“Von Stavenhagen” for Sig nerds) and factory hard-plastic grips. I also have Hogue rubber grips, which came with the gun. Both grips are comfortable, but fat (phat?!). Both are probably less than ideal for my munchkin hands. And I’ve never found Sig bar-dot sights to be all that precise.

In the ~350 rounds I put through it, I used both the factory plastic grips as well as the Hogue rubber grips. And while both are girthy, of the two, I think I prefer the rubber grips. In the absence of an aggressive texture, they just “stick” better. And I don’t think you gain all that much in terms of trigger reach with the factory plastic grips.

Did some DA to SA transitions @ 10 yards. Very easy to keep them all in a head-sized area—you might say it’s a “no brainer” :)

Obviously, anyone seriously using a P229 in 2022 is probably going to be using Hogue G10 grips. And I probably should be, too. They’re shallower and slimmer than the stock grips, with an aggressive texture that is much better at keeping the gun anchored in your hand. Though I can’t say I love the flat, slab sides of the Hogue G10s. They’re fine, but I just prefer a bit more contour.

Regardless of grips and sights, the OG P229 is a pure joy at the range. And while I might be a bit more precise with my P239s (and my P245—that thing is a laser), I think I enjoy shooting the P229 the most. Even compared to the P226 and the P228.

I guess you could say it’s… worth the girth.

But will I carry it?

Hmmmm…

A P229 in Your Pants?

The P229 is officially a “compact.” But…

Is it?

Yeah, it’s shorter than a P226—both in the grip and the slide. But it weighs about the same. And, since we’re talking Legacy P229s here, it’s definitely thicker.

Compared to a P226, the shorter grip does give you more leeway in terms of how it carries. But, as we all know, thinner guns are just more comfortable to put in your pants. For instance, my Walther P88c—which is kinda in the same size “genre” as the P228 & P229—is shorter, thinner and lighter. And probably more accurate at the end of the day.

The Walther P88c (left) is MUCH less bulky than the P229. The P88c makes a great mid-size, DA/SA carry gun.

As an aside: if you’re looking spend a little dough and you want a fantastic mid-size DA/SA carry gun… P88c. Track one down. You’ll love it.

Another thing that’s interesting about the P229…

I compared the height of my P229 to my Beretta 92. They’re the same height, almost exactly. Yes, you understood that right: the 92 is shorter than the P226 and it’s the same height as the P229. I mean, it’s not like I plan to EDC my 92. But, that’s the point I’m making here: I probably ain’t gonna EDC this P229 either.

I found it interesting that the Beretta 92 (right) is basically the same height as the P229. The P226 is taller than both.

That said…

The P229’s stock DA trigger is superior to that of the 92. And obviously that’s important on a DA/SA carry gun. Plus, it’s 100% reliable (not that the 92 isn’t). Granted, I’ve put less than 400 rounds through this P229 so far, but I’ve found all the classic 9mm Sigs I’ve owned to be 100% reliable. And I’m sure this is one is no different.

Certainly, a P229 would make a fine carry piece if you don’t mind the bulk. And if you want more of a middle-ground / do-it-all / shoot-a-lot / carry-sometimes kind of a gun… I think P229 would be great. But when I can carry a P239—which I honestly shoot at little better at this point—I will.

A shoulder holster is a comfortable way to carry a big gun like a P229. The Galco Miami Classic (248) fits all my P2XX Sigs.

Go Legacy? Or Go Home?

Nothing gets gun hipsters more riled up than the “old Sig vs. new Sig” debate.

I actually owned a later-production P229 in .357 SIG, entirely made in the USA. Interestingly, it still had the Legacy slide—but the locking insert (the thing that cams the barrel), the takedown lever, and probably most of the other small parts were all MIM. It could have been from a special run of Legacy P229s, post 2009? Or maybe Sig was already making most parts from MIM at that point?

In any case, it was 100% reliable and it shot very well. The only reason I sold it was because I just preferred my P239 in .357 SIG and…

How many guns in .357 SIG does one gun hipster really need?

Now, it’s worth noting that the newer 9mm P229s (i.e., P229-1s) will give you a thinner slide profile. That might make a difference for you in terms of carry. It might also mean giving up some of that glorious girth that makes the Legacy P229 so dreamy in 9mm. But I can’t say for sure—I’ve never shot a P229-1. And, as I mentioned, I have read that newer .40/.357 P229s do have thicker slides. But I couldn’t find measurements to qualify that.

For me, the Legacy slide just looks right with the P229. YMMV.

Also, there are more outsourced parts in modern Sigs—especially the MIM parts. In fact, I’m not sure there were any MIM parts on Sigs until the mid 2000s. My 2006 P239 (all US made) had all machined parts.

Does any of this make a difference? Who knows. For what it’s worth, though, I believe you’ll get a good gun if you buy a brand new P229.

But you will also pay $1,000+. More for Legions and Elites.

This one I have? Cost me $549. Sure, there’s a little wear on it. But it’s old school Sig Sauer goodness, through and through. But hey—the new ones are nice too. So, you make the call.

Regardless…

I Shoot P229s to Feel Joy

And that’s really my big takeaway, here: The P229 is just an easy gun to love. A blast to shoot, with addictively mild recoil and a wonderfully satisfying heft in the hand. It simply feels great. And with enough trigger time and a few upgrades, I’m sure I’d shoot it just about as well as anything.

A little patina, but she’s still got it. Or… he? Actually, I don’t know how this P229 identifies. We’ll go with “it.”

And, as the OG in the illustrious lineage of the P229, I feel like it’s a gun hipster must have; I do, indeed, love “having” it. So, coming full circle, I can say—without any shadow of a doubt—that the old-school P229 is 100% worth every ounce of its girth.

Especially in 9mm. Get one. You’ll dig it.

What are your thoughts on the P229? Experiences? Opinions? Scathing condemnations on my review? Feel free to share below…

#hiptac

© 2022, Hipster Tactical

East German Makarov Review: Go Commie, it’s Your Birthday

Sixty years ago, a beautifully blued little pistol was born at a state-owned factory in Suhl, East Germany. He grew up fast. Took a job in law enforcement—you know, suppressing counter-revolutionary activities, stifling free enterprise, terrifying dissidents. Respectable work for a handgun in the Deutsche Demokratische Republik (DDR) at the time.

Party time! The, uhh… communist party…

But then, in 1989, everything changed.

The wall came down and, soon enough, our courageous little commie (we’ll call him Kleine Mak) emigrated to the good ‘ole US of A. For years, Mak earned his keep as a collector’s item. He bounced from gun safe to gun safe. Shot a few rounds here and there. But he was little more than a proletarian curiosity, in a world of bourgeoisie tactical decadence.

Until…

A chance Armslist deal introduced him to an enterprising gun hipster, living near Cincinnati. And, for perhaps the first time since he left the concrete-lavished splendor of the DDR, someone looked past his pretenses as a “relic of communism” and came to appreciate what a truly excellent pistol he was.

And that’s what we’re here to celebrate today, my fellow gun hipsters—on the eve of Kleine Mak’s 60th birthday.

What makes the Makarov hipster worthy?

With a brilliantly pragmatic design that maximizes accuracy and reliability, the venerable Makarov still delivers on the most critical dimensions of performance for a self-defense handgun.

There’s a toughness about the Makarov.

Not a “back da _uck up” 4506-1 kinda toughness. A stoic toughness. Understated. But authentic. Born of adversity and necessity. Tempered by grit, fortitude and fear. Fear of Nazis. Fear of Stalin. Fear of NATO and nukes. And it all comes through in the way the gun handles. 

Tough, handy, sexy…

Gripping the Mak engenders a tenaciously stout feel in the hand. The fixed barrel sits low as you wield it—pointing so naturally, it’s like a second index finger. And when you pull the trigger… the rambunctious little snap of the blowback action preludes an uncannily precise point of impact on your target.

You soon realize this thing is VERY accurate.

And unless something is really off with your plucky piece of proletarian posterity, it ain’t ever gonna jam on you. Yup. It’s reliable. It’s accurate. It’s small. It handles surprisingly well. And if you’re being completely honest with yourself, you kinda like the thing—and not in ironic way.

So then… like any red-blooded, all-American gun hipster, you begin to wonder:

“Could a pistol designed by Stalinists in the late ‘40s really be the carry gun I’m looking for in 2022?”

Well, hopefully the birthday boy and I can answer that for you. Isn’t that right, Mak?

Kleine Mak: Ja.

Like I said… stoic…

Cold War Heater

The Makarov is a microcosm for the cold war.

Its creation coincides with the intensifying ideological struggle between east and west. Its no-BS design typifies the USSR’s pragmatic approach to solving tactical (and practical) challenges. In fact, it’s just the kinda handgun you’d expect from the Soviets. If you’d expect Soviet handguns to be, umm… good.

Which the Makarov very much is.

Tokarev TT-33—basically an “economy” 1911 knockoff (photo courtesy of Wikipedia).

During the Great Patriotic War (“WWII” to everyone else but Russians), the Tokarev TT-33 had served the Red Army well. But it was large, heavy, unsafe to carry hot, and way overpowered for what anyone actually needed to do with handgun. Plus, the Soviets now had to arm the largest military machine in history, spanning two continents and multiple war-torn countries. They needed an easy-to-use, low-maintenance pistol that was cost-effective to manufacture by the millions. 

Beyond that, it had to have…

• Unquestioned reliability—even in the worst gulags and shittiest armpits of Central Asia

• Good accuracy

• Decent ballistic potential at intermediate ranges

And it didn’t need to do any more than that.

The Soviets saw the handgun purely as a defensive weapon. It didn’t need to make gigantic holes or take anyone’s head off at 50 meters—they had AK-47s for that. And, to that end, it made sense to keep it compact and handy.

Given those design parameters, it’s not surprising the Soviets drew inspiration from the Walther PP series—all too common in the hands of their German invaders during WWII.

However, it’s important to note that the Makarov design is NOT simply a clone of the Walther design. Far from it. More on that later.

Get Your Fix(ed barrel)

Walther PPs and PPKs use fixed barrels instead of a more complex tilting action (or Walther’s own “falling-block” action, found in the P38). There’s no breech locking or unlocking. No barrel tilting or camming. The slide literally just “blows back” as the charge explodes—which means the system is limited in terms of how much pressure it can handle.

So, you can’t put 9mm Parabellum or .45 ACP in a blowback action. Those cartridges are just too powerful.

The Makarov uses a fixed-barrel design, with the recoil spring around the barrel—like the Walther PP and PPK

However, the simplicity of a fixed-barrel / blowback mechanism greatly reduces complexity and cost. And, the Soviets didn’t see the need for anything more powerful than what a blowback system could manage. Especially when you consider that fixed-barrel guns are inherently very accurate. Often, more accurate than all but the most precisely assembled locked-breech guns.

But, if you’re gonna go blowback, why not go for the gold?

The “Ultra” Blowback

To achieve optimal power in a straight-blowback system, the Soviets—again—took inspiration from a German concept:

The 9x18 “Ultra” cartridge.

Developed in the 1930s, the 9mm “Ultra” sought to improve upon the ballistics of 9x17mm / .380 ACP without needing a locked-breech mechanism… while still being less powerful than 9x19mm / 9mm Parabellum (which does require a locked breech).

Three 9mms, left to right: 9x17 (aka, .380); 9x18 Makarov; 9x19 Parabellum (aka, THE “9mm”)

But when the Soviets got ahold of the 9x18 Ultra, they redesigned the bullet profile to be a bit wider than capitalist 9mm. Apparently the Soviets measured bullet diameter using a different reference point (grooves vs. lands, I believe) vs. Western standards. This also helped ensure that Soviet ammo could not be used in NATO weapons, pending an invasion of Western Europe—which, I guess, most people expected to happen.

So…

With their new(ish) 9x18 cartridge in hand, the Red Army began to vet new handguns designed to chamber it. Beginning in 1945, a long list of engineers (which, interestingly, did NOT include Mikhail Kalashnikov) competed in these trials. And by 1951, Soviet brass made their selection.

The Pistolet Makarova, designed by Nikolay Fyodovorich Makarov, was chosen to be the official handgun of the Iron Curtain. Makarov’s design proved to be more reliable, more durable and simpler to manufacture than any of the competing designs. The pistol—often simply known as the “PM”—soon entered mass production in Izhevsk.

Nikolay Makarov

(Photo: Wikipedia)

In addition to the pistol that bears his name, the 9x18 cartridge it fires also came to be known as the “9mm Makarov.” And while other handguns were designed to chamber this cartridge—including the Polish P64 / P83, the Hungarian PA-63 and the CZ-82—none of these pistols are true “Pistolet Makarovas.” Legit PMs were made in Izhevsk, Bulgaria, China and…

Suhl, East Germany. Just like our birthday boy, here.

The Pistole M 

As the Soviets transformed the eastern third of Germany into a communist police state after WWII, they set up (or repurposed) arms-manufacturing facilities in the occupied territory. One such facility was the old Simson factory in Suhl—renamed the “Ernst Thälmann” plant, in honor of a pre-war German communist leader. 

The Simson factory, Suhl

(Photo: Wikipedia)

Early on, ET produced unlicensed copies of former Wehrmacht weapons—P38s, PPs, etc. But the Soviets didn’t want to produce the implements of fascist oppression in their gloriously rebranded factory. They wanted to produce the implements of communist oppression.

Implements like… their brand-new, state-of-the-art Makarov pistol. Dubbed the “Pistole M” by the East Germans.

So, after some ill-fated experiments with aluminum alloy frames (and requisite prison sentences, allegedly, for all involved with this ignominious undertaking) ET began churning out extremely well-finished, extremely high-quality Makarov pistols. Mechanically identical to those being produced in Izhevsk, just… a bit nicer.

And in 1962, our hero was born. Happy birthday, Mak.

Kleine Mak: Danke.

Russian Ingenuity, German Quality

As I mentioned, the Soviets also set up Makarov tooling in Bulgaria and China (again, 9x18mm pistols produced in Poland, Hungary and Czechoslovakia are different designs). And while I haven’t personally handled any Bulgarian, Russian or Chinese Makarovs, I can say that the German Mak’s reputation for having a superior fit and finish seems warranted.

It’s simply a beautiful piece. And not just “for a communist gun.” Even with a smattering of nicks and scuffs accrued over 60 years of… being a gun… the deep, dark blueing still ripples with a subtle shimmer as you turn it toward the light.

There’s a “certain functional” elegance to the Makarov.

Every nook, cranny, curve, angle and edge is perfectly machined, down to the tasteful bevels on the bottom-edges of the slide, to the flawlessly uniform slide serrations. Every part fits together firmly and precisely, without undue friction. Racking the slide—which feels like it’s cut from the armor plating of a T-34 tank—rewards you with a satisfying “clack” as the sturdily sprung mass comes to bear against the fixed breech.

It may sound strange, but the whole thing just feels “forged.” If “forged” can have a definitive tactile quality. And, I think it literally is all forged. So… yeah…

Three good-lookin’ German police pistols.

My ontological abstractions of metallurgy aside…

By any standard, under any economic philosophy, it’s a finely made weapon that feels like real quality.

Quality that’s built to last. For six decades. And then keep on shooting. Which, I will say, this Makarov continues to do exceptionally well.

Pop Goes the Proletariat

As I said in the beginning of this review, aiming a Makarov is kinda like pointing a sixth finger.

The short-ish, round-ish slide sits low in the crotch of your hand, extending toward your target as if it’s a surrogate phalange. You feel very connected to the Mak as you hold it. The thin, Bakelite-ish grip invites a firm and intentional hold—which only serves to enrich that sense of connection.

The trigger reach is short. The SA wall is firm. And, as you line up the primitive—yet precise—blade-style front sight, it just seems like there’s less between your hand and where the bullet actually leaves the gun. Less bulk. Less weight. Less bore-axis height. Less to get in the way of pointing and…

POP!

…shooting. 

It’s a terse explosion. Abrupt, you might say. And it leaves you almost surprised.

To see a hole exactingly aligned to your point of aim.

POP!

After a hint of creep, the SA trigger breaks nicely. Owed to its “intimate” handling characteristics, the Mak makes hitting what you’re aiming at incredibly easy. Tack driver. Laser beam. Pick your metaphor. Regardless, the little _ucker is accurate.

50 rounds @ 10 yards. Not my best work—it had been a looong day. But not bad overall. I was losing the sight and dipping low.

And even though the muzzle hardly rises under recoil…

POP! POP!

…the thing does kinda kick.

And I think “kick” is the best way to describe the recoil of a straight-blowback pistol. It’s a short, percussive impulse. There’s not much muzzle rise. Just a punchy little thump in your hand.

On the Mak, it’s not unpleasant. The pistol is substantial enough, I think, to keep the recoil from feeling abrasive or abusive—as it tends to, in lighter, smaller blowback pistols. Compared to a Walther PPK in .380 (or even a Sig P230, in my opinion) the Mak is vastly more comfortable to shoot.

And, speaking of Walther PPKs…

There’s a lingering misconception I wanna clear up.

The Makarov is NOT Walther PP/PPK clone

I think it’s fair to say that the idea of the Makarov was probably inspired by the idea of the Walther PP: a handy, straight-blowback pistol suitable for professional use. But beyond that conceptual commonality, the Mak doesn’t share much of anything with the PP series. It handles differently. It shoots differently. And, mechanically, it is a completely different animal.

The DA/SA lockwork / fire-control components are completely different. The decocker / safety blocks the hammer in a completely different way. The mainspring is completely different (it’s a leaf spring). The dimensions and construction of the frame are completely different. The slide is a bit wider, with a different layout in terms of the rails / grooves that interface with the frame. The extractor design—and its orientation in the slide—is also completely different.

Despite being a compact blowback pistol, the Mak is definitely a major departure from the Walther PP design.

Plus, the Makarov’s elegantly simplistic design uses only 27 parts. It’s also worth noting that the Mak uses an unusual free-floating firing pin (in other words, there’s no spring to keep the firing pin back). That sounds… questionable. But the Mak has consistently passed California’s stringent drop-test requirements. And I guess it has for years.

But perhaps the most interesting—and most unique—thing about the Makarov’s design is…

The Mak feeds differently than just about any other handgun. The PP Included.

Push it Real Good

Most semi-automatic pistols use what’s called a “controlled feed” sequence. As the round hits the feed ramp and exits the magazine, the back end of the casing begins to slide up the breech face (which is pushing the round forward from behind). The extractor claw slips into the groove on the back of the casing as it continues up the breech face… so it’s fully “controlled” by the extractor as it gets fed into the chamber. It’s all a very delicate dance of angles, clearances and tolerances.

The Makarov—on the other hand—has no time for your corrupt and futile dance of capitalist weakness.

If you look at the breech face of the Mak, you’ll see two prongs. These are there to prevent the rear-end of the shell casing from sliding up the breech face (as previously described). Instead, the round is introduced at a very high, very direct path into the chamber. The extractor then simply just plows straight ahead, “jumping” over the case rim as the round chambers.

#pronglife

This is what’s called a “push feed.”

And, given the Mak’s timeless reputation for feeding reliability, I think we can all agree that the Makarov does, indeed, “push it real good.” (I apologize for this shameless ‘90s hip-hop reference. But it brought me joy.)

Check out this video showing the very straight-forward nature of the Mak’s feed cycle.

Imagine locking the slide back on a “normal” gun, placing a round in the chamber, then dropping the slide. This is basically how the Mak is designed to feed. Like, always. The extractors on most guns aren’t designed to handle that kinda impact on a regular basis. Eventually, you’ll chip the claw or break it off completely. The Mak’s extractor is wider, beefier and the claw itself has more of an inward bevel. I guess that’s what allows it to function this way.

The question I have is…

Why don’t more guns feed like the Mak?  

It just seems like there’s a lot less margin for error when the rim of the casing doesn’t have to cantilever itself under an extractor claw to feed. Plus, with the Mak, feeding rounds present extremely high relative to the chamber—it’s even more of a “direct feed” than a Beretta 92.

Apparently, this allows the feed-ramp angle to be super shallow (as in, not steep). To put this in perspective… the Mak’s feed ramp is about as steep as the wheelchair-accessible switchbacks at a high-dollar nursing home. In Palm Beach County.

Is it any surprise these things are reliable?

I don’t see how the thing could jam.

I have to wonder if using a locked-breech mechanism (e.g., a tilting barrel) somehow precludes the use of a Makarov-like feeding setup. Like, maybe, you can’t have the rounds feed that high relative to the chamber, since the barrel moves up and down. But… that’s unqualified speculation. I really have no idea.

The Polish P64 is the only other pistol that I know for sure uses the Mak’s feeding setup (I know because I’ve owned one). It too has the “prongs” on the breech face, and it appears to have a similar extractor design.

In my review of the Walther P5, I hypothesized that Walther P38 derivatives (which the P5 is) may actually use a Makarov-like feeding cycle. This is because P38s and their descendants have a prominent “lip” on the bottom of the breech face; I thought this might serve the same purpose as the prongs on the Mak’s breech face.

However, take a look at this video showing a Walther P4’s feed cycle in slow motion (a P4 is simply a shorter-barreled P38). Skip to 2:40.

To me, this doesn’t look like a Mak feed cycle. As in most guns, the feeding round looks like it’s “cantilevering” up the breech face and slipping under the extractor. The lip? Well, maybe it just helps kick out the bottom of the round a bit, so it angles up under the extractor a bit better. Just a theory.

Or, maybe it’s more of a middle-ground between a full-on controlled feed (as in a 1911) and a full-on push feed (as in a Makarov)? Who knows. If you happen to be an engineer and you’re reading this… would love to have your informed perspective on quandaries such as these.

Best of the Blowbacks

In addition to this Kleine Mak, here, I’ve owned: a West German Walther PP in 7.65mm; a West German Walther PPK/S in .380; several Sig P230s; and a Polish P64. All of them were very accurate—as I’ve found fixed-barrel pistols to be.

And, I’m not gonna go into the details, here…but suffice to say… none of them were as reliable (with the exception of the P64) and shootable as the Mak. Now, I have NOT shot a Beretta 84/85. From what I hear, those are fantastic shooters and getting one is definitely on my list. But, they do—I think—edge up into a slightly different size category vs. Maks and PPs. Same with the CZ-82/83.

It's worth noting that I traded my 1973 West German PPK/S for this East German Makarov. And, while I think the German PPK/S was probably worth more, I couldn’t be happier with the trade. Because the Mak fills a legitimate, practical role in my approach to concealed carry. Yes, it’s a touch bigger than a PPK. But it’s still, overall, small and slim. Plus, it’s highly shootable and it’s unflinchingly reliable. And it’s DA/SA. For shorts and T-Shirt weather, it makes a wonderfully comfortable, convenient carry option.

So, yes—I currently carry a 60-year-old communist pistol on a semi-regular basis.

But should you?

The holster is actually for a Kahr K9. Which I sold. Because… I like the Mak better.

Is that… a commie your pants?

The Sig P365.

Compared to the Mak, it’s smaller, lighter, holds more ammunition and it shoots a more powerful round. On paper, it’s a no brainer: the Mak is an antiquated piece of technology that just doesn’t make any sense. But, as I have sought to express in these reviews, shooting a handgun doesn’t happen “on paper.”

Anecdote…

A few years ago, I met a buddy at the range to try his brand-new Smith & Wesson Shield. I had my Polish P64 with me at the time, so, I just figured I’d put a few rounds through that while we drooled over the brand-new Shield.

If you haven’t tried one, the P64 is a straight-blowback pistol in 9x18, like the Mak. But it’s much smaller. So, it kicks like Clydesdale on steroids. Plus, its DA trigger is basically unusable, and it only holds 6+1 rounds.

But, those shortcomings aside, the P64 shot circles around that S&W Shield. It was almost funny—the janky old P64 was soooo _ucking accurate. Tight, cloverleafed groups. It could literally hit the numbers on the targets, whereas neither my buddy nor I could produce anything resembling a “group” with the Shield.

To me, that was telling. I want precise shot placement in a carry gun. And, for me, most modern striker-fired pistols just don’t make that kind of accuracy easily accessible. Your mileage may vary, of course—it’s not like Glocks and M&Ps can’t be shot accurately.

But, regardless, I think you’ll find that an old-school blowback pistol like the Mak will really surprise you in terms how accurate it is. And, in my experience, the Pistolet Makarova supplements that accuracy with stellar reliability and greater comfort.

To be fair, I have not tried a Sig P365. I hear they shoot pretty well—better than previous generations of striker-fired “mini-guns.” But, then again, I prefer DA/SA. And the Mak honestly has a pretty decent DA pull, with a very nice SA pull.

So, at the end of the day… the Mak just works for me.

But do you need at least a 9mm (9x19) for self-defense?

As of a month or two ago, I’d be inclined to say, “hell no.” 9x18 was good enough for an entire geopolitical movement to terrorize the world for 40+ years—it’s gonna be fine for your next trip to Applebee’s. But then Eli Dicken took out an active shooter with 10 shots from a 9mm Glock, at 40 yards.

And, as shitty and sad as it is, active shooters are thing these days.

So, could you do that with a Mak?

5 shots @ 25 yards. 4 of them are close are close enough to be headshots.

For starters, you couldn’t shoot 10 shots with a Mak because it only holds 9 (unless you reloaded). And, I think it’s pretty obvious that the 9x19 is better suited to making effective hits at those kind of distances. It’s just gonna hit harder. So, I’ll go ahead and say that the Mak probably wouldn’t be the best choice for long-distance shots, in the vein of Eli Dicken’s impressive feat of active-shooter kill-age. Nice work, Eli.

That said…

At 25 yards, I shoot the Mak as accurately as anything. And while I’ve never shot it at 40 yards, I suspect it could make those hits just as well as most 9x19 guns—I mean, Hickok45 was ringing his 80-yard gong with a Makarov, quite easily. But would 9x18 have enough “pop” at that distance to bring someone down?

Well… I think 9 of them sure AF would.

Retirement Schmreetirement

At 60 years young, Kleine Mak has no intentions of retiring any time soon. He’s svelte, trim and shoots just as accurately as ever. He was born to do a job and do it well—and he still does.

Happy bday, buddy!

The considerations that dictated the Mak’s design, in my opinion, are just as relevant today as they were 75 years ago. And I would argue that for vast majority self-defense needs, the Mak’s excellent accuracy and stellar reliability still make it a superb choice. And just maybe, depending on what you’re looking for in a carry gun, it could be a better choice than many contemporary options—especially if you’re looking for DA/SA.

So, happy 60th birthday, mein kleine freund. Keep on keeping on.

Kleine Mak: Will do, bro.

Holy shit… you speak English!?

What are your thoughts on the Makarov? Experiences? Opinions? Scathing condemnations on my review? Feel free to share below…

#hiptac

© 2022, Hipster Tactical

Smith & Wesson 4506-1 Review: Walk Softly & Carry a Big Smith

Mini Coopers, Mini Wheats, mini marts, miniskirts—bigger isn’t always better.

But sometimes… it is.

And one of those times (when it is) is when you’re holding a Smith & Wesson 4506-1, wondering how—and why—this much satiny-stainless awesome can exist at any single point in space and time. It’s massive. It’s macho. It exudes guts and gravitas. It’s a veritable quantum singularity of steel, fortitude and toxic masculinity.

4506-1 be like, “You wanna piece a’ this?”

But it’s also…

A really freakin’ good gun. And that’s what we’re here to talk about, my fellow gun hipsters.

So…

What makes the S&W 4506-1 hipster worthy?

The 4506-1 backs up its larger-than-life swagger with easy-shooting accuracy and class-leading reliability, all with a reassuring heft that handles .45 power like a dream.

Denzel Washington.

Is the reason most people want a 4506-1. Michael Chiklis is the other reason.

With its big, bold, no-_ucks-given persona, the 4506-1 plays right into the “outlaw maverick” allure of characters like Alonzo Harris from Training Day and Vic Mackey from The Shield. Its clean yet imposing silhouette radiates fearless confidence, charged with a certain self-righteous audacity. It’s not light. It’s not efficient. It’s not cost-effective. It doesn’t even make sense by most conventionally relevant metrics.

But it doesn’t care.

It doesn’t need to care. Because that big .45 caliber hole at the end of its phallically elongated slide commands respect. It doesn’t have to say anything. It doesn’t even have to do anything.

It just has to walk in the _uckin’ room.

Slowly. Boldy.

Softly.

And yet, for all its “back da _uck up” machismo, the 4506-1 was the choice of more than a few law-enforcement agencies during the 1990s and 2000s. Including the LAPD. In that sense, it seems to embody a crossroads in our collective moral compass—where our penchant to rebel against the status quo comes into conflict with our innate sense of duty and honor. So, I suppose it stands to reason that two of the modern era’s most iconic “dirty cop” characters—Alonzo and Vic—carried the 4506-1 (well, Alonzo carried two—because literally nothing can be more baddass than that).

To me, the 4506-1 is the antihero of modern DA/SA service pistols… starring in a (metaphorical) Michael-Mann-esque saga of crooks, cops and coke, fraught with constant danger and moral ambiguity. A saga that—like so many other compelling handgun stories—begins in the early 1980s.

Size does matter

The “Super Gun”

Going into the big ‘80s, Smith & Wesson didn’t have a big .45 in its lineup. In fact, Smith’s top competitive shooter and design consultant—Tom Campbell—was winning IPSC matches with Colt 1911s.

Clearly a conflict of brand interest.

So, they let Campbell design his own “dream” .45. He started with the 459 / 439 platform (that Smith used for 9mm) and scaled it up into a big, sexy, single-stack beast that, while outwardly resembling a 1911, was an entirely different animal.

He called it the “Super Gun.” And it won him quite a few more IPSC titles.

By 1985, Smith standardized Campbell’s design for mass production, adding a then-obligatory DA/SA trigger and a sleek stainless finish with blingy polished flats. Thus, the model 645 was born. Smith also released an SAO version of the 645—the 745—which was, presumably, closer to Campbell’s original Super Gun in terms of its setup.

My 645—before I sold it

The Crockett Factor

By the time the 645 rolled around, the star of the era’s most influential crime drama—Miami Vice—needed a new pistol. A pistol big, manly and sexy enough to ride in a shoulder holster under a pastel blazer, while chillin’ in a cocaine-white Ferrari Testarossa.

A pistol like the Smith & Wesson 645.

And so, the big, beautiful Smith became Sonny Crockett’s primary sidearm in seasons 3 and 4 of Miami Vice—following the painful demise of the Dornaus & Dixon Bren-Ten, which he carried in seasons 1 and 2.

And while the 645 certainly fit the milieux of Miami Vice in the mid ‘80s, time marches on. And so did Smith & Wesson.

My 4506-1 & my 5906, in matching 3rd-gen stainless

By ’88, Smith had upgraded their “2nd generation” pistols to “3rd generation” status. So, the 2nd gen 645 became the 3rd gen 4506—updated with a one-piece wraparound grip, a removable front sight and a more understated satin finish. Crockett carried the 4506 for Miami Vice’s two remaining seasons.

But… that’s NOT where the 4506-1’s story begins…  

Ten Millimeter DNA

After an infamous shootout in 1986—which, fittingly, happened in Miami—the FBI found itself looking for a new “wonder cartridge” that could solve all of their tactical shortcomings by simply being more powerful and more awesome. They quickly took interest in the new 10mm auto cartridge, developed several years earlier by Swedish ammo maker FFV Norma, under the guidance of Jeff Cooper / Dornaus & Dixon. Theoretically, the 10mm could do .357/.41 ballistics out of a .45 ACP-sized semi-automatic pistol. I mean… how can you lose a shootout with that!? However, the 10mm did generate significantly higher pressures than the big, slow fo’ five.

Obviously, Smith & Wesson’s stalwart 4506 was a promising candidate for a 10mm platform. But, to tame the fury of 10mm, Smith redesigned the 4506 to have a thicker slide and frame, with (likely) some other minor modifications to the barrel and lockup. So, in keeping with the 3rd gen naming scheme, the pistol they came up with was deemed the “1006.”

But it’s not like .45 ACP was going away.

So, instead of going back to the original design of the 4506/645—which were more-or-less the same guns in different outfits—Smith & Wesson basically rechambered its 1006 in .45 ACP. This is what came to be known as the 4506-1.

Chillin’ with a Ted Blocker shoulder holster

It’s also worth noting that Smith went to a rounded trigger guard with the -1, whereas the 4506/645 had squared-off trigger guards. This is usually what people will point out when distinguishing the 4506 vs. 4506-1. But it’s obviously just a superficial change; the real difference lies in the 4506-1’s beefier build, by way of 10mm.  

For YOU, all of this simply means one thing: The 4506-1 is bigger, heavier, thicker and more badass than the 645 and 4506. And—for me, anyway—it also means that the 4506-1 shoots better.

Walking the Walk

The 4506-1 doesn’t just look the part.

It puts rounds on target with poise and aplomb. Off hand, it shoots every bit as accurately as my Sig P220—better on most days—and hangs with 1911s in terms overall shootability. All in my opinion, of course.

To be perfectly honest, I wasn’t quite expecting that.

Because I’d owned a Smith 645 for years. It was a good, dependable gun. Sexy as hell. Never had any issues/malfunctions. But I never shot it all that well.

It was one of those guns that would always hit low and left. Not egregiously so, but just enough to piss you off. It put up tight groups—I have no reason to think it wasn’t accurate. But, for me, it was always a challenge to hit directly on POA with the 645.

Now, I’d always wanted a 4506-1 (mainly for Denzel reasons), but I just assumed it was a thicker and heavier 645. Probably not gonna shoot a whole lot differently, right?

Wrong.

This thing has the proverbial “it”—that elusive “X-factor”—when it comes to putting rounds on target precisely and accurately. It’s something you can feel more than explain. And if you’ve done a fair amount of shooting, it’s something you pick up on almost immediately… like, in the first few mags. Whatever you call it, the 645 just didn’t have it (for me). And while it was a fine gun all around, I sold it not long after I grabbed the -1.

The Sword is Mightier

I can’t say I’ve ever actually squared off with a medieval broadsword. But I have to think that holding a 4506-1 is about the closest you can come to that experience… with a handgun.

It’s big. It’s long. It’s heavy.

Lo! Doth mine blade extendeth longer than thine…

But it doesn’t feel… bulky. It feels gangly. Especially with the straight-backed factory grips. Like some kinda William Wallace claymore (freeeeeedom!!!), the 4506-1 doesn’t just point—it reaches, rakes and rails. The slide feels long, but in a good way. Holding it… nay, braaandishing it… commutes a sense of strength and confidence in your hands.

Even if the grip does feel a little spindly. 

But the long, thin grip just seems to suit the long, rakish slide. It feels good enough—if not perfect. Regardless, any haptic anxieties you may have are quickly assuaged by taking your first shot…

BOOM.

It’s not a bang. It’s a BOOM. This is a .45, after all.

Gentle Giant

You can feel the power.

But through the gun—not through your bones. That massive slide brilliantly contains, distributes and diffuses the brawny shove of the .45.  The power feels sooo controlled through every calm, collected moment of the recoil impulse. It’s really quite gratifying. Especially when you realize there’s a big _uckin’ hole right where you wanted it.

BOOM.

It feels very linear in the way in the way it recoils, cycles and recovers. I’m no physicist, but I think the weight, mass and length of the slide probably helps impart that stabilizing effect—which is probably why the gun is so controllable and still so accurate even with its anorexic grip.

BOOM. 

You don’t shoot this thing super-fast. Sure—the long, heavy slide works wonders to diffuse the recoil, but the big ‘ole thing still needs time to cycle and recover. After all, this ain’t some kinda low-bore axis, 21st century, striker-fired appliance.

BOOM.

This is a cannon. A howitzer. It was meant to calmly, concisely and convincingly blow the ever-living crap out of anything in its path. In as few shots as possible, without ever even thinking of jamming. 

And, in all of that, the 4506-1 delivers. Better than just about any other .45 I’ve owned.

50ish rounds @ 10 yards. Literally the first time I shot it—group right on POA

Best of the Boomers?

Like I said, I’m already shooting the 4506-1 better than the 645 and even the P220. And, if I’m forced to say I identify with any one particular brand of handgun, I’d say I’m more of “Sig guy” than anything (well, old Sig anyway—don’t worry, I keep it hipster).

On that note…

For whatever reason, I’ve always had a zen-like connection with the Sig P245. It’s basically a purpose-built compact P220 before there was officially a “P220 Compact” (if that makes any sense). The thing is insanely accurate and I generally shoot it better than a full-size P220. I don’t know why. Does it recoil more than a full-size P220? Eh, if it does… it’s not a lot. But the abbreviated grip and overall feel of the P245 just works very well for me. It’s really quite a different animal than the P220 (it uses different springs and shit) and it’s one of my favorite guns of all time. Definitely want to review it one of these days.

Compared to 1911s…

The only .45 1911s I’ve owned have been Commander-sized. Two of them. Both Colts. They were both crazy accurate. One wasn’t reliable. One was put together like a cheap toy from the ‘80s (and may not have been reliable—I sold it after one range trip). So… I realize a Commander-sized 1911 may not be exactly apples to apples vs. a 4506-1, but I suppose I still have to give the 1911 the edge in absolute shootability—mostly because of the trigger. Let’s be honest: it’s hard to beat a 1911 trigger. Though, in SA, I think a Beretta 92 comes close.

But, that’s not to say the 4506-1 isn’t an incredibly good shooter. Plus… it IS the most dead-nuts reliable .45 ever made. Or so the internet says…

The Case of the Empty Cases

As I’ve foreshadowed up this point, the 4506-1 is kinda legendary for its reliability. Internet lore would have you believe that the big ‘ole -1 can feed just about anything… even empty .45 ACP casings.

I can tell you from experience, the rumors are true. Here’s the link to my video review where I demonstrate this (fast forward to 17:00).

• It’s also worth noting that my 645 was equally capable of feeding empty cases.

• It’s also, also worth noting that my Sig P220 cannot come close to feeding empty cases. Not even one.

• I can’t speak to a 1911’s ability to do this, but I’m thinking it’s probably a “no.”

Further to the point of reliability…

As of late, one of my local ranges has mass quantities of “Ammo Inc.” brand ammunition on hand (allegedly, Ammo Inc. is owned by that dude from “Monster Garage,” Jesse James). It’s fairly cheap and my .45 supply is low, so I bought a few boxes.

Holy shit the stuff is stout. Seems way hotter than typical .45 range ammo. And, it actually caused some failures to feed in my P220—which, I think, were “inertial feeds.”

My 4506-1 & Sig P220

With an inertial feed, the slide recoils so hard, the top round literally bounces out of the mag (partially or completely). So, when the slide comes forward, the round is dangling there at the wrong angle and you get a misfeed.

At least that’s my best guess as to what happened. I’ve never experienced a failure with my P220 before and the intense recoil of this ammo seems to be the most obvious variable.

The point being…

My 4506-1 didn’t blink when I used this ammo. Several boxes of it, in fact. And neither did my 645 for that matter.

So, the key takeaway here is that the 4506/645 platform’s reputation for stellar reliability is well deserved. These guns are tough, duty-grade workhorses that are built to run. Which they do. And, in my hands, the 4506-1 shoots with the best of them.

Carry Capable?

I don’t have to tell you that the 4506-1 is NOT gonna replace your micro-9 for concealed carry. It’s a big, heavy, all-steel, 40+ ounce gun. No one asked it to pull “inside-the-pants” duty.

That said…

Despite the beefier slide of the -1, the thing is still pretty slender overall. So, it’s NOT entirely uncomfortable inside the waistband. Moreover, when you’re carrying in the appendix position, a longer slide can actually help the gun feel more stable and planted when it’s in your pants.

Still, the looong grip is gonna print in just about any clothing thinner than a sweatshirt. That is to say, it’s probably not gonna be a T-Shirt gun. But, with jeans and thicker clothing, stowing the mighty 4506-1 in your pants (namely, in the AIWB position) is certainly doable—IF you can manage the weight.

Who wouldn’t wanna carry this sexy beast?

But, if you ARE wearing more substantial clothing…

Why not throw it in shoulder holster? In cooler weather, with a jacket or a hoody, it’s a real comfort to have a real big .45 slung under your arm. Just ask Alonzo Harris—he carried two that way.

Well, ask him before that last standoff in Hillside Trece territory.

NOTE: It’s important to point out that a shoulder holster is quite a bit slower on the draw. It has its place, in my opinion, but it also has its limitations.

In Conclusion

The 4506-1 kicks ass.

And not just in a “it’s cool to own” kind of a way. It kicks ass because it’s an excellent handgun all around. Its size and weight engender a uniquely satisfying sense of strength and confidence, while also providing a wonderfully solid platform for launching .45 ACP—accurately, comfortably and reliably.

We all know that .45 ACP was literally made for the 1911 (well, maybe vice versa). But it’s hard for me to believe that John Browning’s big-booming round isn’t MORE at home in the chamber of a Smith & Wesson 4506-1. Maybe, if Mr. Browning had designed a big-bore service pistol in the early ‘90s, he would have designed something similar to a 4506-1. Because, in the golden age of crooks, cons, coke, crack and dirty cops…

Nothing says “I wish a MFer would” like a 4506-1.

The 4506-1 hits hard, like a well-placed right hook

Thanks for reading. And stay Hipster, my friends.

What are your thoughts on the Smith & Wesson 4506-1? Experiences? Opinions? Scathing condemnations on my review? Feel free to share below…

#hiptac

© 2022, Hipster Tactical

Walther P88 Compact Review: The Most Wonderful Wondernine

The Sig P226 and the Beretta 92 share a rivalry that permeates the fabric of handgun history.

They are the quintessential “wondernines”—the breed of hi-cap DA/SA pistols that dominated the handgun scene of the late ‘80s and early ‘90s. They both successfully weathered the perils of the U.S. military’s XM9 trials. They both went on to face hotly divided perspectives on which pistol was really the best. It’s a debate that rages to this day.

But…

Despite their bitter feud, the P226 and the 92 can—perhaps—agree on one thing:

They both _ucking hate the Walther P88.

And that, my fellow gun hipsters, is what we’re here to talk about.

A German masterpiece on an American classic—and they’re both blued.

What makes the Walther P88 hipster worthy?

The Walther P88 series represents the ultimate expression of the “wondernine,” combining the most desirable traits of its XM9-era predecessors with the fit and finish of a custom 1911.

The P88 is a DA/SA sex symbol.

It’s lean. It’s tight. It’s dark. It’s handsome. It’s a bad bitch. It’s a hot boy. It’s model material.

And it shoots as good as it looks.

It makes Sigs jealous and Berettas bashful. It makes custom 1911s look like amateurs. It makes every other “wondernine” seem a little less wonderful. And while I’ve never owned a really high-dollar 1911, I’ve handled Wilsons, Nighthawks, Baers and others.

And let me tell you…

My P88c, which is technically a production pistol, feels every bit as lavish, luscious and luxurious as all but the bougiest of 1911s.

It is, by far, the nicest gun I’ve ever owned. It might be the nicest “normal” DA/SA gun ever made. And, in that, it is an archetype of the era from which it originates.

Unsung Icon

The P88 series epitomizes the ideal of what a “service pistol” should be—or should have been—as of the late twentieth century. If you were into guns in the late ‘80s/early ‘90s, it was probably everything you wanted in a handgun. It was everything gun culture held in high regard.

But it also represents the end of an era.

An era where metal-framed DA/SA pistols dominated. An era where polymer frames and striker-fired actions were still just… promising ideas from some Austrian backwater.

And, unfortunately, it was an era that didn’t last long enough to give the P88—or its more refined, more concealable successor, the P88 Compact—enough to time to truly shine.

But to understand how the P88 became the unsung icon of the wondernine era, we have to go back to 1985 [insert DeLorean joke]. Or, actually, a bit before…

If guns could be Abercrombie models, the P88c would be

XM9 Dropout

When the U.S. military announced their desire for a new service pistol in the late 1970s, Walther didn’t have a contender. The company’s most advanced pistol at that time was the P5—a single-stack compact that, while exceedingly dope in all respects, didn’t come close to the meeting the army’s requirements for capacity, size, etc.

So, Walther went to work.

In short order, they came up with a rather conventional design, using a typical Browning-style tilt barrel with a very “Beretta 92-esque” double-stack magazine. By 1981, they had a handful of prototypes, which they submitted to the U.S. military for evaluation in their forthcoming “XM9” pistol trials. By all indications, Walther’s creation was well-made and highly accurate.

But, it shit the bed in the 1984 XM9 trial.

The XM9 contestants—the P88 prototype is in the lower left, above what looks like a CZ-75 (Photo from Walther Forum).

The frame cracked near the end of the dustcover. The sights broke off in drop tests. It didn’t stand up to dirt and mud like the P226 and the 92.

But Walther kept refining the design. And, in 1988 (it might have been late ’87, actually) they brought an improved version to the commercial market—which they called the P88.

And, these new guns must have been a lot better than the prototypes from 1984, because they actually were used (to some degree) by the IDF. And, as we all know, the Israelis doesn’t _uck around when it comes to weapons.

The Best of the Best

By the time Walther got around to designing P88 prototype, Sig Sauer was already seeing success with their P220 and P225. Beretta had mastered the art of the uber-reliable 15-round mag. And Smith & Wesson had 30-years of DA/SA experience with their 39s, 59s, 439s and 459s.

In my opinion, you can see all of those guns in the P88.

The king of the wondernines (just don’t tell anyone that’s actually a P220 on the bottom).

The barrel lockup and the orientation of the feed ramp are decidedly Sig-esque. The mag is a known knockoff of the Beretta 92 mag. The gracefully thin slide, and the overall silhouette, have a touch of Smith & Wesson to my eye—not to mention the “belled” barrel intended to facilitate tighter lockup near the muzzle. And the 1911 must have gotten in on the action, too—a super high-end, custom-fitted 1911… with a dark and mysterious machismo. If guns can, umm, have that.  

Conventionally Unique

Certainly, the full-size P88 brought some unique features to its generally conventional design. It has the nifty dual-purpose decocker/slide release pioneered on the P5. Plus, it has a legit two-sided mag release button. But to me, those are just gimmicks.

The real “headline” with the P88 and P88c—and the thing that does make them legitimately unique, in my opinion—is their build quality.

It’s simply on another level compared to other service pistols.

Other than a Les Baer 1911 (which is just stooopid tight), I’m not sure I’ve ever experienced a gun with a tighter fit than my P88c. Though my 1992 Sig P220 is pretty close.

There’s basically zero play in the slide to frame fit. The slide/barrel lock into battery with a vault-like “snick.” The lines and the machining are immaculate. The barrel crown and the rifling are perfect. Even the hammer and the trigger exhibit zero play in their prescribed arcs of motion.

Plus, the bluing is so deep, rich and shiny it’s almost… therapeutic. Like a vacation, to some classy maritime locale. Where old men bring younger women—all of whom feel obliged to wear obnoxiously huge, white hats. Boca Raton comes to mind.

Anyway…

The gun is a work of art.

Even Derek Zoolander couldn’t make blue steel look this good.

It was also expensive AF—even early ‘90s. Plus, the original P88 was a big ‘ole gun, with a fat-assed grip that was hard to hold onto (so I’ve heard).

So, a few years into the ‘90s, Walther decided to put it on a diet.

The P88 Compact is Born

With the P88c, Walther sought to drive some efficiencies in terms manufacture, while addressing some of the complaints they’d encountered with the full size—namely, that it was bulky and unwieldy, especially in the grip. Presumably, they also wanted to make it more relevant for the emerging concealed carry market in the U.S.

I’ve also heard that Walther didn’t see the P88c as a companion to the full size, but rather as a replacement. I suppose that makes sense, given the full-size P88’s prohibitively high cost on the commercial market and its general lack of government contracts (aside from some small batches to the IDF and maybe a few others).

P88 & P88 Compact—photo credit, Rock Island Auction.

So, first and foremost, Walther dispensed with the OG P88’s “fiddly” dual-purpose, dual-sided decocker. In its stead, the P88c uses a tried-and-true slide-mounted lever, in the vein of a P38 or a Beretta 92. Not only did this eliminate a lot of expensive, finely engineered mechanics, it helped make the grips—which covered all those finely engineered mechanics—a bit less fat.

Walther also shortened the slide/barrel as well as the grip, making it a lot more carry friendly. There were likely other evolutionary changes as well, but I don’t have a full-size P88 to say exactly what those may have been.

Despite these tweaks, however, the P88c retains the impeccable build quality—and requisitely incredible accuracy—of its full-size predecessor. In my opinion, it is still very much a service pistol with the soul of target pistol.

Speaking of souls…

Out-of Body Accuracy

The first five shots I ever put through this thing were touching—even after a stressful day where much coffee was imbibed and zero lunch was consumed. I wasn’t even really trying. Hell, I was barely even aiming.

In fact, shooting the P88c is almost surreal. The entire experience seems to transcend the senses. Maybe even… consciousness. Or time itself. Or that email I forgot to send before absconding to the range.

The grip melds with your hand, never feeling too wide or too thin. As you take aim, the slide assumes a natural, neutral equilibrium, letting a crisp sight picture fall effortlessly into view. The front dot sits low, centered in a recessed furrow spanning the top of the slide—which brings it down closer to the axis of the bore. In that, it feels intimately connected to your point of aim. The trigger? It finds you. And the SA break is so clean, soft and “minimally invasive”…

You can’t even believe you just bullseyed some shit.

50ish rounds @ 10 yards

Again. Again. A cloverleaf appears. Holes upon holes. The recoil is there, but it’s transparent—owed to the gun’s perfect balance in hand. Then, your moment of shooting zen ends… as you find all your shots arrayed in an exceedingly tight pattern. And you realize that what you’re holding is truly something special.

Surgical Steel

The P88c is the most composed gun I’ve ever shot.

There’s no drama. There’s nothing to throw you off. Everything about it is poised, precise, predictable and perfect—despite what Gaston Glock would have you believe about his own concoction of steel, plastic and pervasively marginal adequacy.

To me, the P88c just feels more accurate than other guns. More bullets go through the same holes. Shot groupings appear tighter. The target just seems to be a more exacting reflection of your inputs as a shooter. If a Beretta 92 is a katana, the P88c is a scalpel.

But, like a scalpel, the P88 can feel a bit clinical.

It doesn’t give you the visceral feedback that’s its older brother, the P5, does. And, the P5’s straighter-angled backstrap fits my hand a bit better. Not that the P88 feels bad at all—but I can’t quite achieve the level of intimacy with the trigger that I can with the P5. I’d say the P88c feels more like a Sig P228 or a P226 than anything. But more precise, more accurate, more intuitive, and more… subdued. Almost, nonchalant.

To that point, the DA pull is, literally, flawless. But, that is to say, there is merely an absence of negatives; I wouldn’t call the DA pull “excellent” either. It’s not incredibly light or silky smooth, but it’s consistent and pretty much free of stacking. Plus, there’s an overtravel stop. So, it’s perfectly shootable.

But I’ll be honest: the venerable S&W 5906 still has my favorite DA pull in a DA/SA pistol

So…

While the P88c’s shooting dynamics are incontrovertibly superb, I can’t say it’s inherently exciting to shoot—until you get a sense of just how accurate the thing really is. That makes it exciting. And, ultimately, very satisfying.

And, like all 9mm Walthers I’ve shot, it handles extremely well when you’re shooting fast. I don’t know how Walther does it, but my P5, my P88c and my P99—all very different guns from different generations—can ALL mag-dump with a certain finesse that other guns just can’t match. Superb shootability, in all dimensions, just seems to have been more of a conscious consideration in how Walther designed their guns. At least that’s the impression I get.

The P88c, with older and younger siblings.

Bottom line: I LOVE shooting the P88c. It just has a very “he was a quiet man” kind of a demeanor to it. And that’s not necessarily a bad thing. Actually… it’s kinda baddass.

Duty-Grade, Hipster Worthy

You might be tempted to see the P88c as a historical curiosity that woos handgun hipsters (like me!) and collectors with its snob appeal and its illustrious Teutonic pedigree. You wouldn’t be wrong, in that assessment. But you’d also—probably—be overlooking the fact the Walther P88c is a really, really good gun.

Another from it’s recent photoshoot.

So far, I’ve put around 400 rounds through it with zero stoppages. I put shitty remanufactured ammo through it (which choked my brand-new CZ PCR AND my Browning Hi Power), along with random, old hollowpoints and a variety of other range ammo. It ran everything.

I didn’t clean it for a week, I didn’t re-lube it—shot it again. It ran everything.

There’s no hint of hesitation as the rounds feed. No “kerchunk” on the feedramp (ahem, CZ). Even as tightly fit as this gun is, it was still designed as a military service weapon. And, with that, comes a standard of reliability and dependability that, I think, still makes it relevant and worthwhile today.

Not to mention, the P88c is very…

Carry Capable

I expected the P88c to be accurate, beautiful, reliable and mechanically marvelous. But I didn’t expect it to carry as well as it does.

It’s really not small, by most objective metrics; in ‘90s guns, “compact,” is really just wishful thinking in many cases. Nevertheless, it has the right dimensions to make it extremely comfortable inside the waistband, and perfectly concealable it most situations.

The P88c’s slide is “Browning Hi Power” thin.

The slide is Browning Hi Power thin and the grip is just short enough to cross a certain threshold of concealability that precludes printing. Plus, the levers Walther used aren’t sharp, pokey and annoying. In that, I feel like they were ahead of their time.

I generally carry in a soft holster (which is why I prefer legit DA guns) at around 12:30. The P88c excels in that role. I decided to carry it just for the hell of it, one day. And… I’ve been carrying it ever since. Not simply because it feels sooo baller to carry a gun like a P88… but… it’s simply an excellent carry gun, regardless of how cool it is.

One Wondernine to Rule Them All

At the end of the day, I have little reservation in saying that the P88c delivers a class-leading, genre-defining, Oscar-winning performance as the greatest of all the wondernines. No question, it’s a cut above your garden-variety Beretta 92 or Sig P226, in terms of fit, finish, feel, quality and accuracy.

And while I’m not sure anything can top the Beretta 92 or the Walther P5—for me—in terms of just sheer shooting enjoyment, the P88c brings you savant-level accuracy in a package the feels great to shoot, feels great to carry and appears to be perfectly reliable. That’s not easy to find all in one package.

Plus, it’s gorgeous.

Honestly, if I had to give up every gun I currently own except for one… up until about a month ago, I would have said “Sig P239.” I’m not so sure anymore. The P88c is the all-around “best” gun I own. It can do everything you need and want handgun to do. And it can do it really, really well.

Yeah, it’s a hipster gun. But also one of best guns I’ve ever experienced. And if you get a chance to experience it, I think you’ll probably agree.

The Umarex CP88

One last thing worth noting…

Most of you probably know that Umarex—a German air gun company—owns Walther. In fact, the P88’s less-than-stellar sales performance in the 1990s was likely one reason that Walther ended up being acquired by Umarex. It is then, perhaps, poetic injustice that their CP88 pellet gun—faithfully modeled on the real P88 Compact—is one of their top sellers.

Thank God they didn’t put front slide serrations on the real gun. Photo: Amazon

In fact, there are more Google for searches for the CP88 than there are for the actual P88 or the P88 Compact. Which, if I’m being totally honest, is the only reason this section is here ;)

Anyway…

Thanks for reading. And stay Hipster, my friends.

What are your thoughts on the Walther P88? Experiences? Opinions? Scathing condemnations on my review? Feel free to share below…

#hiptac

© 2022, Hipster Tactical

Walther P5 Review: A Leaner, Sharper, German-er Beretta 92

A few mags through a Beretta 92, and I come away convinced it’s the best-shooting handgun in the universe. The ergos are great for such a big gun. The SA trigger is snap-tastically crisp. The recoil impulse is wonderfully composed and exceptionally communicative.

Then I shoot my Walther P5.

My 1984 P5, chillin’ in sleek industrial chic

And I realize that the things I love about the Beretta—those intangible elements that engage, inform and elevate your sense of connection to every shot—also exist in the P5. But with a racier, edgier, sport-tuned-suspension-ier flair. And, inevitably, I find myself wanting an E36 BMW M3 coupe. But being a gun hipster is expensive enough. So, let’s stick to the P5.

What makes the Walther P5 hipster worthy?

The Walther P5 replicates the uniquely engaging shooting characteristics of the Beretta 92, but with a more visceral edge—thanks to sharper inputs, a lower bore axis and a more refined overall feel.

So many car metaphors come to mind.

But since I have zero experience with Italian automobiles, we’ll stay within the BMW ecosystem for the purposes of this analogy: The Beretta 92 is a 7-Series, balancing smooth comfort with intuitive handling, while the Walther P5 is a 3-series, zipping around corners with bracing dexterity. And, different as they are, you realize they have the same soul. A soul that lends itself to instinctive handling predicated on feel and intuition. In the case of Walther and Beretta, that soul resides in a jiggly piece of wedge-shaped metal dangling from the bottom of the barrel. Pun not intended.

That’s the locking block—AKA, the “falling block” mechanism.

Rockin’ the Block

If you’ve ever wondered why the slide action on a Beretta 92 feels so silky-smooth, you can thank the falling block. Long story short: it locks the barrel to the slide without requiring the barrel to tilt downward when cycling (like a Browning-style action). Said another way, the block cams down so the barrel doesn’t have to. And, because the barrel moves straight back and forth, there’s less jerkiness and less friction from locking-lugs disengaging, barrel camming, etc., etc.

The Beretta 92’s locking block (top) is more or less a “cover performance” of Walther’s design (bottom).

I’m no engineer, but I tend to believe that’s a big reason that falling-block guns—like the Beretta 92—feel so engaging and communicative from shot to shot. Thanks to the smoother action, the whole recoil cycle seems less abrupt and less jarring—and, requisitely less distracting. So, it keeps you more in the moment. It keeps you more in tune with where, when and how your shot is hitting.

The Beretta 92 excels in delivering this uniquely engaging experience.

But here’s the thing: I think the Walther P5 might do it even better. And, to be fair, Walther was rockin’ the block almost 40 years before Beretta did.

Block Brothers

Credit Where Credit is Due

Walther pioneered the falling-block system way back in the 1930s when they designed the P38—which became the Wehrmacht’s standard-issue sidearm in… ahem… 1938. The P38 performed well in combat, proving durable and reliable in tough conditions. And, as Beretta tooled-up to build a locked-breech 9mm pistol of their own, well, they probably had lots of P38s laying around.

Shameless P38 pic from Wikipedia

Because… Mussolini.

So, the Beretta M1951 was born in (you guessed it) 1951, using a scaled-down, simplified version of Walther’s falling-block system. As the M1951 evolved into the Beretta 92 during the 1970s, it brought the falling-block design with it.

Meanwhile, in Ulm, Walther was busy modernizing its original P38 design, incorporating new features like lightweight alloy frames, passive safety systems, better ergonomics and improved durability. Those efforts culminated in 1977, with the P5—which competed against the Sig Sauer P6 and the Heckler & Koch P7 for German police contracts. Interestingly, however, the Dutch National Police became the most prolific users of the P5, adopting around half of all ~100,000 P5s ever made.

And then the bastards shredded each-and-every one of them when they switched to the P99Q. It is, perhaps, the preeminent gun-hipster crime of the 21st century.

A moment of silence, please.

My video comparing the P38 to the P5!

Looks Can be Deceiving

And while the P5 looks kinda like a giant PPK, it is, assuredly, a heavily modified P38—the biggest difference being that its slide (almost) fully enshrouds the barrel, which presumably provides better support/lockup near the muzzle. Additionally, Walther moved the slide-mounted decocker down to a more “Sig Sauer-esque” position and smartly recontoured the grip profile with a more steeply angled backstrap.

The angled “chin” without the visible hole for the recoil spring evokes some PPK vibes—but it has nothing in common with the PPK

The 3 Polizei-keteers

The development of the P5, P6 and P7 was kind of a watershed moment in semiautomatic handgun design. All three pistols performed well and earned their share of contracts. But with its simpler, less-costly design, the Sig P6 (aka, P225) became the most widely adopted of all three guns. And, the success of the P6 helped paved the way for the ascendency—and expansion—of Sig Sauer’s P22X line which continues to this day. The more unique mechanics of the P5’s falling-block system and the P7’s infamous gas-delayed blowback system ultimately became evolutionary dead ends (unless you count the Beretta 92) in handgun posterity.

My P5 and P6—2 of the 3 Polizei pistols from the 1970s

I own a Sig P6, so I can tell you that it’s an excellent gun with a tough, no-BS, get-the-job-done kind of a feel. As are all classic German-made Sigs.

But I can also tell you this:

It’s no P5.

Hooked on a Feeling

The P5 is a purebred shooter.

Compared to my P6, it’s more engaging, more exciting, more communicative and just more shootable. And that’s not to say the P6 shoots poorly. Not at all. But, for me, the P5 has a more dialed-in feel that translates to more intuitive, more effortless accuracy. When I’m pounding through rounds, I’m not sure there’s any other gun that speaks to me like the P5.

Only the Beretta 92 comes close.

But the P5 gets leaner, meaner and more to the point. The bore axis is low. The trigger reach is bizarrely short for a duty gun. And the svelte proportions of the single-stack grip let you get in closer and get up higher… so you can feel every nuance of the shot as you’re taking it.

BANG!

Light. Crisp. Clean. The break feels incredibly close and connected. The grip’s gentle contours offer more than enough feedback on what just happened—and what should happen next. The gun stays unbelievably flat as the slide cycles. And then, before, you know it…

BANG! BANG!

The P5 offers an incredibly short trigger reach that’s ideal for even the tiniest T-rex hands

The shots come quick. You don’t have to think. You barely have to aim. Because the muzzle stays down, and your grip stays tight. The firm, predictable recoil impulse communicates through every facet of the gun. You feel exactly what the slide’s doing. You feel exactly when to break the next shot. It’s fast. It’s intuitive. It begs you push it harder.

BANG! BANG! BANG!

Every hole is cloverleafed in a tight pattern. Even when you’re shooting fast, the P5 gives up little in terms of accuracy.

And… you?

Well, you just want more P5.

A Firmer Suspension

If it’s not obvious, I love the visceral shooting experience you get with the P5. That said—while never punishing—it isn’t quite as “easy-going” as what you find in a larger gun. While a Beretta 92 may not feel as sharp and racy as a P5, it’s also more stable, more planted and more mild in terms of its shooting characteristics… and it still gives you the feedback you need to shoot well.

I can shoot a Beretta 92. All. _ucking. Day. And I can shoot it well. All. _ucking. Day.

I guess it’s a bit of a tradeoff: to get that racier edge, you feel a bit more of the recoil with the P5. Especially since the bore axis is quite low.

To that point…

A low bore axis doesn’t actually reduce recoil… it redirects it… straight back into your hand, instead of flipping the muzzle up. And that’s one reason the P5 is such a joy to shoot fast. Combined with its inherently smooth falling-block action, the P5’s low-slung feel makes it an extraordinarily flat shooter, even when you’re pushing the gun hard. But… in that… it’s not quite as plush, soft and smooth as its block-rocking cousin, the Beretta 92.

But I don’t think anyone asked it to be. Or wants it to be.

And while I don’t necessarily shoot the P5 more accurately than I do a Beretta 92 I don’t think any gun feels as awesome when I’m carving out the center of a silhouette. Honestly, I think if I were to focus on running the P5 as my primary defensive/carry handgun, I suspect it would quickly become my best-shooting gun overall. It really does seem to complement my style of shooting and the particulars of my hands and grip.

The P5 never lets me down at the range—50 rounds @ 10 yards, in the center (I was aiming for the 7s separately)

I will say the DA pull on the P5 is… adequate. It’s smooth up to a certain point, but stacks heavily right before the hammer falls. And while this would normally present a major barrier to shootability in DA, Walther (thankfully) included an overtravel stop. This keeps the trigger from skipping all the way to the backstop (i.e., the rearward extent of its travel) when hammer falls. So, you get less of a jerk, less of a wobble and less of an effect on accuracy. It works well enough.

Honestly, I think something like a Walther P88 is probably more mechanically accurate than a P5. But, with its sublime ergos and shooting characteristics, it’s hard to beat a P5 at the range.

Speaking of the P88…

Precise, not Perfect

Having just purchased a pristine Walther P88 Compact, I have what—arguably—epitomizes the pinnacle of German engineering in small arms. The thing is simply on another level in terms of its fit, finish and build quality. It’s not only the nicest gun I’ve ever owned, it might be the nicest thing I’ve ever owned—irrespective of category. It also seems astronomically accurate in a way that “normal” handguns just aren’t. In some ways, it feels like a target gun in the body of service pistol.

The P5 is not that. Not quite.

1999-dated Walther P88 Compact—the most beautiful gun I’ve ever owned

The P5 feels more functional. More mechanical and machine-y. Yet, at the same time, more visceral. What it lacks in absolute perfection it makes up for in terms of its intuitive, communicative feel. Nevertheless, it still exudes a sense of purposeful refinement that so typifies classic German engineering. It evokes memories of a time when BMWs and Benzes were simpler machines that prioritized crisp handling and sound fundamentals over luxury and status.

You’ll find heavy tooling marks on the P5’s frame, an unpolished grain on its muzzle cuts, and a comfortable degree of play in its slide-to-frame fit. But it never for a moment feels crude or unrefined. There’s a certain degree of “functional elegance” to it that you don’t often find in today’s bipolar world of $3,000 bespoke 1911s and soulless polymer-framed commodities.

No, it's not a luxury product. It’s just a really, really high-quality product. One that does what it was designed to do very, very well.

Unfortunately, for all its merits, the P5 is long out of production. And it wasn’t produced in the numbers that some other service guns are. So, it’s fairly rare (while not an oddity, per se) and it’s definitely expensive. You can thank the Dutch for basically doubling the price of the world’s remaining P5 stock.

And, unless you pay close to 2 grand for a safe queen, any P5 you find is gonna have some mileage on it. On Gunbroker, you’re still probably looking at around a grand for an example with some duty wear (if you luck out on a local deal, you can swing one for less—I did).

So, let’s talk about what you can expect as far as wear…

Ramp Stamp

If you get your hands on any reasonably well-used P38 derivative with an alloy frame (this includes most postwar P38s and all P1s, P4s and P5s), you’ll see something like this:

The “Ramp Stamp”—and apparently a random hair

The feed ramp’s finish gets worn away as rounds feed—that means the bullets are skidding up a patch of bare aluminum. Initially, this looks… disconcerting. Like the gun is nearing the end of its service life… I mean, BARE aluminum?!

But, I’ll add a few points that will hopefully assuage such concerns:

1. Mine feeds perfectly fine, sans feed-ramp finish.

When I got my P5 (chance Armslist deal), there was zero finish left on the feed ramp’s glide path. Since then, I’ve put several hundred rounds through it. I’ve shot it fast. I’ve shot different types of ammo. I’ve shot remanufactured ammo that choked my Browning Hi Power and my brand-new CZ PCR. I’ve done mag dumps with crappy ammo. I’ve done mag dumps with crappy ammo AND crappy ProMags. The gun has never malfunctioned.

The guy who sold it to me said he’d never had a malfunction and that it even feeds JHPs perfectly well. I believe him. Moreover, the wear pattern on the ramp hasn’t really changed in several hundred rounds. I guess bare aluminum is bare aluminum. (Note: I have not personally tried hollowpoints in the gun).

2. I don’t really think the finish is meant to stay there.

This is conjecture, but, I suspect the engineers who designed these things never intended the finish on the ramp to stay put. Literally, every picture of every alloy-framed P38/P1/P4/P5 shows similar wear on the ramp (unless it’s some mint-condition specimen). My guess? The finish comes off the ramp pretty early into the gun’s service life.

German police tested these guns in excess of 10,000 rounds and the Bundeswehr used fairly hot NATO ammo in their alloy-framed P1s. So, I’m gonna go ahead and guess bare-alloy feed ramps were seeing plenty of action through all of that, with no ill effects. Which leads me to the next point…

3. I suspect aluminum alloy isn’t as weak as it’s often made out to be.

In the course of my job, I’ve handled a few pieces of raw machined aluminum—engine blocks, big gears and cogs (I’m in marketing—not engineering; these were clients). Dude… the shit is solid. I’m gonna go ahead and guess that it’s capable of standing up to bullet-jackets. To that point: is there any reason to think aluminum alloy needs a finish to function as feed ramp?

Moreover, the bare alloy seems smoother than the black (anodized?) frame finish. So, maybe it feeds better with the finish gone. Maybe that’s whole point: the ramp wears down to the smooth metal, for optimal feeding. Plus, I’m not even 100% convinced the frame finish is actual anodizing. Maybe it is, but it doesn’t feel like the anodizing on any of my other anodized guns. So, if it’s just some kinda paint, maybe it’s weaker and wears away quicker (which would support the hypothesis that the ramp’s finish is not important for feeding function). But who knows?

4. Lastly, I think P38 derivatives MIGHT feed a bit differently than most other semi-autos.

In that, the precise orientation of the feed ramp may not be as critical to reliable feeding as with Browning-action guns. This is a hypothesis, to be clear. But, here’s my reasoning…

The Breech Face Has a Lip

In most semiautomatic pistols, the feed ramp informs the angle of the feeding round, so the rear-end of the case slides up the breech face and slips under the extractor hook.

Looking at this “lip” on the P5’s breech face, I don’t see how it can function that way.

You can clearly see the “lip” at the bottom of the breech face

A Makarov has a similar feature. There are two “feet” at the base of breech face which prevent the case rim from sliding up the breech face. Instead, the Mak pushes the round straight ahead and the extractor “jumps” over the case rim as the round chambers; this would be considered more of a “push feed” vs. a “controlled feed.” And, given the presence of that lip on the Walther, I wonder if the P5 (and all P38-patterned guns, which all have the lip) feed in a similar way.

I could be totally wrong in this assessment. Or, maybe it’s more of a middle-ground between a full-on controlled feed (as in a 1911) and a full-on push feed (as in a Makarov). Either way, IF feeding rounds don’t need to perform a delicate ballet between ramp, breech face and extractor, the ramp may not play as much of a critical role in the feed cycle. So… who cares if it’s beat up and janky looking?

To that point, consider this quote from the Walther Forum, in reference to the P5’s ramp wear:

“The term feed ramp is misleading; it was not designed to serve as mechanical ramp, but is cut out of the frame to provide angular clearance for the top cartridge to be pushed forward to feed.” –MGMike

Interesting perspective. The gist of that thread suggested that the ramp wear was immaterial to the gun’s reliability.

Which, at this point, I’m inclined to agree with.

The P5 is a Shooter’s Gun

Drivers have driver’s cars. Shooters have shooter’s guns. And the P5 is one of the most shootable shooter’s guns I’ve ever experienced.

My Mini Cooper handles like the P5 shoots

I can’t know what Walther engineers were thinking back in the ‘70s when they designed it. But, I can imagine there were discussions on how to make it feel responsive, tight and nimble—even under stress. How to make it handle naturally, intuitively and instinctively. How to make it completely controllable even when you’re pushing it hard, running it hot and whipping around corne— I mean, umm, whipping through rounds.

Hell, maybe one of those engineers even drove a BMW 2002 to work in Ulm.  

It wouldn’t surprise me. Because, if you love to driv… I mean, shoot. You’ll love the P5.

1972 BMW 2002—from Wikipedia

What are your thoughts on the Walther P5? Experiences? Opinions? Scathing condemnations on my review? Feel free to share below…

Thanks so much for reading.

#hiptac

© 2022, Hipster Tactical

Browning Hi Power Review: Deja Pew

“Actually, can I see that one?”

I pointed to a seasoned piece of blued steel, lurking behind the Glocks, M&Ps and CZ clones. Spots of rust impugned its otherwise graceful silhouette. Honest wear had stricken the finish from its distinctive relief cuts, near the muzzle.

As the sales guy handed it over, he likely uttered some trite euphemism in the vein of “oldy but a goody” or “classics never die.” But I didn’t hear it. I didn’t acknowledge it. I didn’t care.

The intimidating perspective so many have faced, since 1935. Specifically, mine is a 1993 MKII.

Because I was somewhere else.

Somewhere wonderful. Somewhere I’d never actually known, seen or been… but always felt. And, in a way, yearned for—deep within my handgun-hipster heart.

That’s what I call “Deja Pew.” And it’s exactly what I felt the first time I held a Browning Hi Power.

Which brings us to…

What makes the Browning Hi Power hipster worthy?

From the very first moment you hold one, the Browning Hi Power feels strikingly familiar, evoking a visceral sense of connection that makes it handle like it’s an extension of you.

As a kid, if you ever dreamed of what it felt like to hold a real handgun… you dreamed of the Browning Hi Power. It’s quintessential. It’s definitive. It’s an archetype—one that seems to permeate the collective unconscious of gun enthusiasts everywhere. It’s everything you ever imagined a “handgun” to be. And, for many, it’s everything you want a handgun to be. And more.

Mind Over Matter

When you grasp the Hi Power, it connects. Not just to your hand. Not just to your body. But to whatever part of your mind—and soul—innately yearns to wield, aim and shoot. I’m not sure what kinda metaphysical shit John Browning and Dieudonné Saive were into back in the day. But, with the Hi Power, they tapped into some elemental truth of the human condition. Some primordial “shooting instinct” that, maybe, we’re all born with.

Another way to put it: If you handed a Hi Power to someone who had no idea what a gun was, I think they’d instantly understand what to do with it… just by holding it.

But “feel” is more than just ergonomics

The grip is the first thing that strikes you about the Hi Power. It feels like it was meant to be in your hand. Not in a clinical HK P30 kind of a way, but in a way that’s more purposeful and engaging. It asks for your input as much as it informs the position of your hand. And it does so in a way that’s intuitive and instinctive. It is the Esperanto of handgun grips. But, unlike Esperanto, it is a language everyone already speaks.  

With a short trigger reach and a stable grip, the Hi Power transcends “ergonomics.”

As your fingers clench around the front strap, you feel the presence of the slide—long, slender, impeccably balanced. The web of your hand recedes into a deeply radiused cleft, making the axis of the bore—and the trigger—feel incredibly close and connected. The entire gun becomes an extension of your instincts. Your will. For you do not “hold” a Hi Power; you wield it. It implores to you aim. It wants to be shot.

 BANG!

You’re in complete control of the break. The recoil is soft, slow and predictable. The sights rise, then fall back into view—almost instantly—under the stabilizing influence of you support hand.

And there happens to be a crisp, 9mm-sized hole, right where you wanted it. Not to mention a big shit-eating grin on your face.

With VZ G10 grips—which I think I prefer.

Range Reflections

The Hi Power is accurate. Very accurate. It almost always produces tight groups and precise hits, true to POA. However, I will add one caveat to that statement. In my range visit for this review, I found myself shooting right of POA. Yes, right—which is odd. Right-handed shooters generally will shoot left of POA if and when they’re feeling a little off.

The group is pretty tight. But my shots were going low-right—which I’m not sure I’ve EVER experience.

So, maybe I was just a little off that day. I know, I know… me?! Could it really be… [gasp] SHOOTER ERROR?! Definitely. But there is one potential variable (ahem… “excuse”) which I will posit: I shot the gun with grips I’d never tried before (the wood grips you see in most of the pictures). 

The next day, I put the VZ G10 grips I’d always used with the gun back on and went to the range. I definitely hit more on POA with the VZs. But, I had another anomaly…

I’ve never experienced this before with my Hi Power. I believe the “less-than-ideal” casing crimp on the reman ammo snagged on the way into the chamber.

A failure to feed.

That’s something I’ve never had with this gun, in the many, many rounds I’ve put through it. Now, I was using remanufactured ammo: Freedom Munitions 115gr. Looking at the rounds as I was loading the mag, I could see the crimp on some of the casings wasn’t 100% flush. So, I think the top-rim of the casing just snagged on the way into the chamber. I actually had a nearly identical FTFeed with a CZ PCR using this same ammo. So… I’m inclined to say Freedom Reman just isn’t the preferred cuisine for a Browning Hi Power. Or a CZ.

Also, the trigger isn’t stellar

It’s heavy. Probably 7 or 8 pounds. Maybe heavier, if you leave the magazine disconnect in there. The single action on a 92, for instance, isn’t exactly what I’d consider light. But I promise you the Hi Power’s trigger is heavier. And while the break feels fine, it’s not quite as crisp as the SA break on a 92—let alone a 1911. So, don’t let the family lineage fool you: the Hi Power will never be a 1911 in the trigger department.

Certainly, one reason for that is because the fire-control mechanics are vastly different. In fact, the Hi Power is the only gun I know of that runs its trigger-to-hammer linkage through the slide. It’s weird. Pulling the trigger pushes up on this cantilever thingy that parallels the firing pin. The rear part of that cantilever, in turn, pushes down on the sear to release it. The whole system just seems a little more “circuitous” than most conventional trigger-bar setups.

You can see the “plunger” that lifts up to engage the cantilever-style trigger bar in the slide.

Also, there’s the reset. Or lack thereof.

All you get is a very, very faint tick—and not enough to feel it. You basically just have to know how far to let it out. If I haven’t shot my Hi Power in a while, I almost always short stroke the trigger a few times.

That said, it’s still a true single-action trigger, with a defined wall, a short reach and a decent-feeling break. That’s all you need to shoot accurately. And, most run-of-the-mill guns today don’t even offer that. Honestly, the Hi Power feels so freakin’ good when you’re shooting it, really don’t notice the trigger that much, good or bad. Well, unless you short stroke it.

But trust me: that’s easy to overcome after a few mags. I’ve shot my (basically) stock MKIII Hi Power in USPSA matches and done just fine. And that brings us to another one of the Hi Power’s key virtues.

The Hi Power is battlefield proven

And it’s certainly seen its fair share of battlefields in the last 80-some years.

After being commissioned by the French military before World War II, it went on to serve with the Belgian army, the nationalist Chinese army, the Canadian army and even the Wehrmacht (when the Nazis occupied Belgium). After the war, it became the standard-issue sidearm of the British military and the Australian military (and probably many others) throughout the cold war. It was extensively used by the IDF—and in the various conflicts in which Israel found itself—and it was farmed-out to several other countries for licensed production. It also served with the U.S. Hostage Rescue service—lest you think it was never used stateside.

Hi Power, ready for action.

All that to say… yeah, it’s probably gonna work. Like I said, I’ve shot mine in a few USPSA matches. So, I’ve shot the hell out of it and I’ve never had an issue… until, literally, the FTFeed I just had.

A “full-sized compact”?

The Browning Hi Power and the Beretta 92 are more or less my favorite full-sized 9mm pistols. For me, both shoot incredibly well. And while I do generally prefer DA/SA for concealed carry, the Hi Power offers something the Beretta doesn’t: It’s not huge.

With a shorter grip than most full-sized guns, the Hi Power is better suited for concealed carry.

In fact, the Hi Power is fairly compact, overall. It’s noticeably smaller than a Beretta 92, a Sig P226, a CZ-75 or an HK USP—and considerably more slender than any of the above. In fact, its slide is even thinner than its reasonably svelte cousin, the 1911. Believe it or not, my Hi Power fits in a Kahr holster (it’s open-bottomed). My Sigs and Berettas won’t even come close. Even my P239s.

The Hi Power’s slide is incredibly slender.

When you add the short(er) grip into that equation, you’ve got a solid option for concealed carry. With its thin slide, I can tell you that the Hi Power is very comfortable to carry inside the waistband… except, for the hammer. When it’s cocked and locked, the thing might as well be a meat tenderizer. And when you’re carrying AIWB, your FUDA—or FUPA—is the meat. (If you don’t know what a FUDA is, ask me in the comments.) Some holsters protect you a little better than others, but, it’s still very… pokey.

However, it’s worth noting that there is an excellent solution: the SFS hammer system.

Essentially, the SFS system allows you to carry the gun with the hammer down, but still cocked. Thumbing the safety flips the hammer back, and you’ve got your normal-old SA trigger ready and waiting. It’s not unlike the DA+/Fast-Action system used on the Daewoo / Lionheart guns (which kick ass, BTW—I have one).

I guess you can’t have too many Hi Power glamour shots

87 years later—still—nothing feels like a Browning Hi Power

There’s been somewhat of a resurgence in Hi Power awareness/interest over the past few years—no doubt hastened by FN’s decision to discontinue the original in 2018. You’ve got clones (like the Tisas, Girsan and the SA35) and the new-for-2022 “FN High Power”—which is a completely different design, really only related to the original P35 in name and in some cosmetic/stylistic nuances.

Some might dismiss this Hi Power “renaissance” as mere nostalgia… it’s a gun that hearkens back to a bygone era of steel, walnut and three-piece suits. But personally, I don’t think it’s just that. Simply because: nothing feels like a Hi Power. For so many people, it’s the best feeling, best fitting, best shooting, most comfortable handgun in the world. That’s not just nostalgia… that’s reality.

My Hi Power, looking hella sexy in “industrial chic.”

And, as the internet expands the shooting public’s awareness of, and interest in, guns they may not have otherwise known about, people are discovering the Hi Power—like I did, in 2018, when I saw that old beater at a local gun shop. The first moment I held it, feeling was believing: I knew I had to have one.

In closing, I’ll say this: nothing I’ve tried feels as right as an original Hi Power. And if you’re gonna Hi Power… Hi Power right, my friend.

What are your thoughts on the Browning Hi Power? Experiences? Opinions? Scathing condemnations on my review? Feel free to share below…

Thanks so much for reading.

#hiptac

© 2022, Hipster Tactical

Sig P239 Review: Combat Carry

In marketing, we often talk about changing a consumer’s “frame of reference.” In other words, we try to change the context—or the lens—through which someone sees, understands, or evaluates a particular brand or product.

For example, we might say, “It’s not a smart phone… it’s a computer in your pocket.” Or maybe, “It’s not a car… it’s sex on wheels.” Or “It’s not a gun blog… it’s a dynamic expression of human truth poignantly refracted through the evergreen lens of global gun culture in the internet age.”

You get the idea.

P239: Combat-capable excellence

Well, I’m here to change your frame of reference on the Sig P239.

Because, in my opinion, nearly everyone gets it wrong. It’s a unique gun with a unique niche in the market. And, because of that, I tend to think its true merits often get lost in translation… which, honestly, is part of what makes it one of my favorite hipster guns.

So, without further ado…

What makes the Sig P239 hipster worthy?

The P239 isn’t just a “concealed carry” gun. It’s a duty-grade combat gun—with the superb shooting characteristics you’d expect from a gun in that class—in a form factor that’s still smaller a Glock 19.

Is the Sig P365 tinier, lighter with greater capacity? Yup. So is the Springfield Hellcat. So is the Shield Plus, the Ruger Max, the CSX and even the Glock 43 with the new Shield Arms magazines.

P239, ready for action

But when you see the P239 more as a combat pistol, it starts to make sense.

This isn’t a pocket gun. This isn’t just some convenient tag-along for errands and dog walks. This is a tough-as-nails piece of professional-grade machinery that you can run hard, day after day. It’s designed to shoot well—instead of just being small and light with oodles of ammo crammed up its ass. It’s intrinsically accurate and unquestionably reliable. It has served with law-enforcement agencies around the world and protected presidents in the hands of the US Secret Service. And it’s still smaller than a typical mid-sized, duty-oriented gun like a Glock 19 or a Sig P229.

Meaningfully smaller, in my opinion—when you consider the most critical dimensions for carry and concealment (more on this later).

But let’s forget about its size, weight and capacity for a moment

It’s accurate.

And not just mechanically accurate. It’s shootably accurate. It puts up groups on par with my Beretta 92, my Browning Hi Power, my Walther P5 and just about anything else I’ve ever shot. It shoots better than a Smith 5906 for me. I find it shoots better than a Sig P225 and even a P226. So, regardless of any other consideration, I feel like makes a decent case for itself purely on that. Especially if you have small hands.

The group is good. But I literally “shot the 7s” on this silhouette @ 10 yards.

An Intimate Experience

 Case and point: the stock grip is thin side-to-side and shallow front-to-back. The backstrap plunges steeply at a constant angle. There’s no hump. No curve. Nothing that keeps you from choking up, and into, the gun. It feels intimate. It feels close and connected. It feels like it’s IN your hand—not on it or against it. Yet, there’s just enough contour on the panels to give you something that feels like… something. Instead of the vague, non-tactile emptiness that you encounter on many other single stacks. 

And the trigger reach? Well, it doesn’t feel like a “reach” at all. Even for those of us with hobbit hands.

The distance from backstrap to trigger is nice and short. And this isn’t even the short reach trigger.

It’s right there. Right under your finger. Your distal joint comes up naturally against the wall—which is firm and distinct. And it breaks. Clean and crisp. Tried and true.

The recoil is brisk, but not sharp or hard. And it communicates—through every facet of your hand. It’s like a car with a firm suspension: you feel the road, but in a good way. In an intuitive way. In a way that helps you drive… better.

But you’ve gotta do the driving

The P239 wants you to grip the gun. It doesn’t do it for you. It doesn’t funnel your hand into a specific position or posture. It doesn’t presume to tell you what to do with the recoil impulse. And if you f_ck it up… well, that’s on you.

If you grip it too hard… if you tense your support hand as the trigger breaks… if you engage the trigger at too much of an angle… you’ll see it on the paper. It’s subtle. It’s nothing that would preclude its utility as fighting handgun. But—a combat pistol though it may be—it’s not quite as stable and forgiving as a bigger service pistol.

Time and again, the P239 blows my mind in terms of its accuracy. I’ve shot some of the tightest groups I’ve ever shot with my 2006-vintage P239 in 9mm. It hangs in there with my Beretta PX4 and my Sig P245. I can literally shoot the numbers off a silhouette at 10 yards with a P239. I’ll bring it to the range with a Hi Power, a 92… whatever. The P239 can, and often does, outshoot everything.

Anecdotally, I’ve heard that the P239 is among the most mechanically accurate of all P2XX Sigs (which are, as rule, very mechanically accurate anyway) owed to its full-length frame rails (i.e., there’s no break in the rails, as with a P226, P228 or P229). I can’t say for sure if that’s true. But it wouldn’t surprise me if it was.

That said, the P239 has left me frustrated. More than once.

If I’ve had too much coffee, if I haven’t shot in a while, if I’m shooting ammo that’s not in its sweet spot in terms of bullet weight and power factor… like I said… it’s not as forgiving. It’s nothing major. Usually just a touch left of POA. But it can be frustrating. Especially because I know what the gun is capable of. But, I can say that is definitely the exception, not the rule.

It usually rocks. It usually puts a sly “f_ck you” kinda grin on my face when I’m outshooting everyone else’s Glock 19s, M&Ps and XDs at my local range.

Even in double action.

DA… within reach

The P239 has a good, solid DA trigger. It’s better than some (e.g., Beretta 92). It’s not as good as others (e.g., 5906). There’s a touch of overtravel and some minor stacking. But it’s still pretty good.

The P239 has a very “reachable” DA trigger.

Regardless… you can reach it. And I say “you” because—with my small hands—if I can, you can. So, whatever minor flaws might exist in the DA pull, they just aren’t as apparent… because you can pull it straight back, maintaining constant, even pressure throughout the travel. I can keep the gun centered, aimed and under control through the entire DA stroke. Decocking between shots, I can shoot tighter groups with a P239 than just about anything. Even my 5906.

For me that’s a huge plus. Especially on a carry gun.

Flip the Grip?

The P239’s stock grip is kind of a double-edged sword. It’s svelte, it’s smooth (and sexy, in its own plain-jane kinda way) and it lays flat against your body for easy concealability. I carry it AIWB, at around 12:30 / 12:45. As long as I’m not riding it super high, it doesn’t print. It doesn’t dig into me. And it’s easy to grab on the draw.

The thin factory grips conceal very well and still have a nice feel.

But it has (basically) zero texture. And, being a thin single stack, it doesn’t give your support hand a whole lot of… umm… support. That’s one of the reasons it can be a bit less forgiving if you’re trying to wring out its full potential for accuracy.

So, a lot of folks go with aftermarket grips on the P239. My personal favorites are the Karl Nill “Rhomlas” grips.

My .357 Sig P239 with Karl Nill grips

They feel… incredible. Whatever touchiness is extent in the P239’s default demeanor almost disappears with the Nills. They’re a bit thicker, with a touch of a palm swell, and just enough extra texture—all of which definitely helps you impart greater stability to the gun.

But…

The thin, factory grips, in my opinion, are a key factor in the P239’s concealability advantage (and overall relevance) vs. other similar-sized guns. Thicker grips sorta negate that advantage. Plus, the OG plastic grips on the P239 still provide a lot more tactile contour than you find on other single stacks—the Smith & Wesson 3913 comes to mind. I had one. I found it hard to control because the grip was just flat, straight and didn’t feel like much of anything in the hand. The P239’s factory grip—while still thin enough to aid in concealment—is light years better in my opinion.

So…

I have the Nills on my P239 in .357 Sig (which, I think is worth a separate review, because it’s kind of different animal). With hot .357 Sig loads, having that extra support is very helpful. In 9mm, as long as I’m being proactive in how I engage the grip of the gun, I see no real loss in shootability with the factory plastic-fantastics.

Hogue also offers G10 grips for the P239. A lot of people love these—and I can see why. They obviously offer a super-grippy texture. But… they’re flat-sided. Zero contour. And for me, the contour is more important than the texture. And while they’re basically as flat/thin as the factory grips, I honestly prefer the feel of the factory grips. Plus, the less-aggressive texture feels better against my skin while carrying. YMMV, of course.

“But it’s toooo big and heavy for a gun that only holds 8 rounds!”

So, it must be… ahem… “obsolete,” right?

Sighs. Scoffs. Sardonically chuckles.

And so, we come full circle: this is what EVERY review of the P239 ends up being. And this is where I reinvoke the “frame of reference” argument:

The P239 is a combat pistol. And it shoots like one. For most people, it’s probably going to shoot better—and feel better and handle better—than something tinier. And, I’ll even say that it will probably shoot better than a Glock 19 for most people. I tend to think the ergos suit more people and the crisp single-action trigger is just more intuitive to shoot than what’s on a stock Glock.  Plus… it’s smaller than a Glock 19 and its thin, single-stack grip is better suited to concealed carry.

Now, is that thin single-stack grip worth losing roughly 43% of your capacity?

A lot of people would say “hell no.” But I would say “f_ck yeah.” Because my goal for an around-town carry gun is to have something that’s seamlessly concealable, combat-reliable and intuitively shootable… all while providing the peace of mind of a DA/SA platform. And, at this point, there’s really nothing else that provides all of that.

Plus, extra mags are easy to carry with a single stack.

So…

Stay down with the Sig-ness, my friends. And long live the P239.

The top, near the 7, is actually DA only group. One flyer—sorry.

What are your thoughts on the Sig Sauer P239? Experiences? Opinions? Scathing condemnations on my review? Feel free to share below…

Thanks so much for reading.

#hiptac

© 2022, Hipster Tactical

Smith & Wesson 5906 Review: In Steel We Trust

It is said that the meek shall inherit the Earth.

If that’s true, then the meek will also inherit the shit the strong leave behind—or at least the shit that’s tough enough to survive whatever apocalyptic tribulation befalls the pimps, players, posers, hustlers, hedonists, braggarts and blowhards of the world.

And, among that stalwart breed of ever-enduring shit, will almost certainly be Smith & Wesson’s legendary “3rd Generation” semiautomatic pistols. And maybe cockroaches.

5906 looking stoic AF on my Schott Perfecto 618

Wielding my tastefully patinaed 5906, made in 1995, I’m tempted to say “Man, they don’t make ‘em like this anymore.” But then I’m forced to question the logic of that idiom. Because, honestly, I’m not sure “they” made much of anything this flagrantly and unapologetically overbuilt—even in the good ole’ days.

Which brings us to the all-important question…

What makes the S&W 5906 hipster worthy?

The S&W 5906 boasts an endearingly solid presence—both in the hand and on the range—that not only inspires confidence, but engenders a sense of respect, reverence and trust.

The thing is dense. It’s just… steel. Forged. Fabulous. F_cking. Steel. The satin stainless is beautifully utilitarian, exuding a cool, clean confidence tempered by classic lines and pleasing proportions. I can’t imagine what it would take to machine one of these things—especially with all the intricate cuts and angled surfaces inside the frame. Even if it didn’t shoot or do anything at all, it would still be an impressive piece of metallurgy to behold.

The satin stainless has a subtle sheen that’s just short of “bling.”

But it does shoot.

It shoots anything you want to put through it, as much as you want to put through it. Plus, it shoots well—softly, efficiently, reliably, accurately—all without fuss or fanfare. And that heft… that reassuringly stout fusion of stability and durability… it just makes you feel good. It makes you feel like it’s something you can trust. Completely. With your life. With your dignity. Maybe even your… soul.

Well, okay—maybe it’s too late for you. But hey… your loss is the meek’s gain, right?

Anyway…

Heavy Metal?

Now, the 5906 doesn’t actually weigh any more than a Government 1911 (the 5906 is 38 oz. empty, 1911 is 39 oz.). But to me, it has a heavier feel—and presence—in the hand. Through the center of the frame, where it flares out to accommodate the double-stack mag, it might as well be a solid brick of metal. That concentrated center of gravity makes it feel satisfyingly planted, balanced and composed.

You just wanna heft it. You wanna hold it, brandish it, aim it. You wanna take it out and pound rounds through it. Without mercy. Without compunction. Maybe without a shirt. Because you know no amount of 9mm bullets could ever hope to fatigue this thing—or you.

Stable, steady, sturdy… yeeeahhh, girrrl…

But don’t be fooled: this isn’t a heavy metal song. This is a staid power ballad, laced with hints of yacht-rock sophistication and tasteful restraint. I can literally hear Michael McDonald pining over his long-lost 5906… which he foolishly traded for a fast and loose Glock 19, back in 1998.  

Speaking of yacht rock…

I can’t say there’s anything truly exhilarating about cooking-off a shot from a 5906. But there doesn’t need to be. There’s not supposed to be. The grip is basic, yet comfortable. The trigger is right where you want it to be. The wall is easy to find. The break is clean. The requisite jolt is swift, soft and satisfying.

But it’s not “magic.” (Maaagic… yeeeahhh!!)

You don’t feel metaphysically connected to each shot. There’s that imperceptible nanosecond—between the trigger break and the hole on the target—where the gun kinda “takes over” and fleetingly leaves you out of the transaction (i.e., your “shot consciousness”). You hope you did your part. You hope your aim was right and your grip was solid. Then…

It does exactly what it should do

Having just shot and reviewed my pristine Beretta 92F, the comparisons here are inevitable. But, since these two guns were contemporaries, both competing in the “Wondernine” market of the late 80s/early 90s, I think it’s a relevant comparison. Long story short: With the 5906, I can’t say the accuracy is as intuitive as what I experience from the 92—but it’s not far off.

50ish rounds @ 10 yards—that’s oil on the dustcover

Not bad. But the 5906 is a bit more “touchy” in terms of how it responds to shooter inputs vs. a 92. Those flyers low left and high? I couldn’t tell you what I did differently vs. the dead-center shots. It’s just kinda like, “Well, you figure it out.” Whereas, with the 92, you can feel it.

Ergo-mehh

No doubt, the “gripability” situation could be better on Smith 3rd gens. It’s just very… okay. It’s not terrible. The proportions are fine and it’s fairly comfortable. But it’s kinda slick and the contours don’t really give you the kind of 360 feedback you need (or want) to impart total stability to the gun. And… with the proprietary one-piece grip unit (found on all 3rd gens), there’s not a ton of aftermarket grip options available. Basically, you’ve got Hogue rubber, Hogue wood and KSD wood. And, for me, all of those either make the grip fatter or add an arch to the backstrap—neither of which I want on a 5906. 

This is was before I changed the grip to the straight-backstrap version—which I prefer

For my tastes, the straight-backed factory grips (known as “Delrin”) are the best option to optimize trigger reach and overall controllability. I’ve also found that adding some sandpaper tape to the sides really improves overall purchase with the Delrins; puts it right up with G10 as far as traction. But then… it kinda grates into my gut when I carry (not that I carry it a lot). So, you gotta pick your battles I guess.

Also, the sights (on this one) are pretty janky. It’s a surplus cop gun with long-dead night sights, so I just painted an orange dot on the front and blacked out the rears. Not exactly a recipe for bullseyes.

But make no mistake: S&W 3rd gens can shoot

Back in 2016, I used a Smith 6904 (essentially a compact, alloy-framed 5906) as my primary carry gun. At one point, I bought a Sig P228 which I planned to replace it with—because, you know, Sig… German… Navy Seals… blah, blah. Well, I shot circles around that P228 with the 6904. Which, as an aside, kind of led to me believe that—for me—Sig P2XX is a dish best served in single stack (i.e., P239s, P225s and P220s). To that point, I’ve also owned a P226, and while it’s a great gun, it didn’t fit me as well as a 92 or a 5906. Or a Browning Hi Power, since we’re talking service 9s.

Regardless of all these anecdotes and comparisons…

The 5906 is a working gun. And it does… work. Very well. Especially when it comes to the more practical considerations for carry and duty. And, in some ways, I feel it’s superior to its European competitors.

Double action savant

Smith 3rd gens have wonderful double-action triggers. Better than Berettas. Better than Sigs. Better than CZs. Better than HKs. In my opinion, of course.

And that’s not to say that the pull weight is simply lighter—in many cases, it’s not. But “weight-of-pull” isn’t the sole metric of a DA trigger’s merit. For me, it’s the clean, gentle response of the hammer falling that really sets the 3rd gens apart in terms of their DA triggers.

Plain and simple: The gun doesn’t _ucking move when the hammer falls.

In SA, a Beretta 92 is godly (a PX4 isn’t far off either). But in DA, a stock 92 has a small seizure when the hammer falls. It jerks and jostles. If you have huge hands and/or you flat-out white-knuckle the thing… you can manage it. But it can be real tough to keep the sights from squirrelling all over the place—especially for us small-pawed folk. My best hypothesis as to why this happens is “overtravel."

In other words, the Smith’s lockwork releases the hammer slightly closer to the rear extent of its travel. So, your finger experiences less of a jump to the backstop (i.e., “overtravel), which reduces the jerking sensation (huh, huh) when the hammer falls. Check out my Beretta 92 review for more context on this.

It’s also worth noting that Smith 3rd gens use a two-sided trigger bar (bow?) setup which, presumably, allows for more even leverage against the mainspring. Berettas and Sigs use only a single-sided linkage from trigger to hammer, running along the right side of the frame. Now, I don’t know how much of an impact that has on the DA pull. But, I can tell you that a Smith’s DA does feel smoother and more consistent than what I experience on a Beretta or a Sig. That said, a Sig with the new-style strut setup is pretty damn close—and you can probably get the pull-weight lighter (using Wolff springs). But the Smith’s DA still feels better to me, overall.

A wondernine in your waist

While the 5906 is heavier than both the 92 and the P226, it’s smaller and more slender than both. This not only contributes to its dense, solid feel in the hand, it helps make the gun more comfortable when it’s stuffed in your pants.

I don’t carry my 5906 a ton. But, it often sits on my nightstand, mag loaded. So, if I’m going for a walk… don’t wanna run upstairs for a P239 or a P99… I grab the 5906. Yeah. it’s heavy. But with the thin slide, it’s honestly pretty comfortable AIWB. Sure, there are levers and latches that seem unnecessarily sharp and pokey… but… you don’t feel those as much as you do the slide’s slender profile. To help counter-balance the weight of the gun in front, I just shift all my other shit to my back pockets. It works pretty well.  

Just hangin out on the coffee table (that’s a cat toy on the floor)

And when you consider you’ve got a very shootable DA trigger ready to rock and roll, combined with low recoil, a superbly solid feel AND two decades of cop-proven reliability riding with you… it’s definitely comforting to carry a 5906. It’s comfort you know you can depend on. It’s comfort you’ll come to trust—like so many American law enforcement officers did, back in the 90s. It’s comfort in knowing that 38 ounces of solid, stainless, forged FREEDOM have your back, no matter what happens.

At the end of the day, I have to say I enjoy shooting a Beretta 92 more. But if I was going to carry a big, metal wondernine on a regular basis, I think it would probably be the 5906.

Mulder and Scully would definitely approve.

Mulder

Scully

What are your thoughts on the Smith & Wesson 5906? Experiences? Opinions? Scathing condemnations on my review? Feel free to share below…

Thanks so much for reading.

#hiptac

© 2022, Hipster Tactical

Beretta 92F Review: More Than an Icon (92FS / M9)

It’s big. It’s sexy. It’s Italian.

It makes you wanna nonchalantly mutter “yippee-ki-yay-motherf_cker” as you threaten a posse of nihilistic Euro-trash. It dares you to mag dump a helicopter, with your hairspray-lavished mullet rippling gently—if not gloriously—under the slightest pretenses of recoil.

It is… a legit Beretta 92F, made in 1989.

God, I love Italy.

And, until about 3 weeks ago, it was completely unfired.

So… after putting about 200 rounds and roughly $300 of collector value through my latest, umm, divestment, I can confidently tell you this: An old-school Beretta 92 is gun-hipster gold. You need one. Maybe two.

What makes the Beretta 92F hipster worthy?

The 92 isn’t just an icon—it’s a gun that shoots like no other, offering a refined sense of poise and purpose that translates into effortless accuracy.  

Sure. There are more accurate guns than a Beretta 92. But I’m not sure any other gun offers up its signature recipe for accuracy so willingly. You feel connected to every shot. Like the distance between you and your target almost disappears. It gives you punch-out-the-bullseye accuracy every time, and it doesn’t give a shit what you think about red dots, accessory rails or one-handed slide manipulations. It just wants you to peer down those iron sights and hose-down the 10-ring with as many bullets you can afford to feed it. And, it…

Doesn’t. Shoot. F_cking. Left.

NOTE: While I offer some perspectives on how the 92F compares to more recent 92FS / M9 models, I will mainly focus on the shooting/handling characteristics of the Beretta 92 in general.

Feel Matters

It’s no secret that the 92 is… big boned. Yet, its girthy grip offers a reassuringly solid feel in the hand. And, somehow, it keeps the trigger reach pretty short—at least in single action. Even with small hands, I can comfortably engage the trigger with the distal joint of my index finger. And there’s reach to spare. Plus, the width gives your support hand plenty of “meat” to push into—so you get tons of lateral stability with the 92.

In single action, the trigger reach is ideal—even for my small hands.

As soon as you get your grip sorted out, your trigger finger finds a solid wall, right where you want it to be. You add some pressure… the ~6lb break is wonderfully crisp. And as soon as you feel that mechanically gratifying “thunk” of the slide reciprocating, you know…

You nailed whatever you were aiming at.   

It just kinda speaks to you. The recoil impulse is satisfyingly slow, soft and linear—“smooth” is an understatement. It doesn’t pull you off target or make you flinch. It keeps you in the moment. Keeps you in the conversation. And seems to say, “Yo, I put that shot where you wanted it. What next?” Then all you’ve gotta do is line up those dots and drop the hammer. Honestly, the Beretta PX4 achieves a similarly communicative feel—albeit with entirely different method of action.

50 rounds @ 10 yards.

Reliability meets quality

I don’t have to tell you the Beretta 92 is reliable. It served the US military with distinction for over 35 years and it will probably continue to do so for the foreseeable future. It also serves the Italian military and many other foreign military units / police forces.

Sure, some Navy SEALS cracked some slides way back when. Supposedly, they were torture-testing the guns with oodles of high-pressure 9mm. Big surprise. And there were some sand issues (in Iraq) with aftermarket mags (i.e., cheapo finish, no hole near the bottom for sand egress). But, beyond these over-hyped anomalies from the past, I feel there’s a consensus that the Beretta 92 is one of the most proven, most reliable, most rugged handgun platforms out there.

As long as you keep some semblance of lubrication on the innards… a 92 will run. And it’ll probably outshoot most of its more “modern” competitors. I’ve had 4 Beretta 92s from different generations, and they’ve all been 100% reliable (minus a broken extractor spring on a surplus 92S from the early ‘80s).

My 92F came in this dope, old-school box, with the dope, old-school manual, written in dope, slightly broken English by a real Italian from the real 1980s.

And this 92F, in particular, just exudes quality (see generational differences below, for more detail on this). The finish is beautiful, albeit functional. Everything fits and functions perfectly. There are no rattles. There’s no excessive play in the slide/frame fit. And the slide famously feels like it’s on glass rails as it cycles. Which brings us to the next point…

Locking Block Talk

The 92’s unique “locking-block” system plays a big role—I think—in its inherent shootability. If you don’t know, Beretta basically copied Walther’s breech-locking action from the P38, first using it in the model 1951. In fairness, Beretta’s rendition of the system is smaller and more simplified than what you find in a Walther—but it’s definitely more of a “cover performance,” if you will. And I’m not dinging Beretta for embracing that system. It’s no more or less of a ripoff than virtually every other handgun on the planet using a Browning-inspired tilt action.

Beretta’s locking block (top) and Walther’s blocking block (from my P5). The Walther’s is beefier, whereas Beretta designed the part to be more of a “wear” item: it’s rated for ~20,000 rounds, and you just replace it before that.

In a nutshell, the locking-block (also known as “falling block”) system allows the barrel to stay straight as the gun cycles—it only moves back and forth, instead of tilting. Another way to look at it: a separate part does the tilting to unlock the barrel from the slide, instead of the entire barrel pivoting down and back.

Now, I’m no physicist… but… since the locking-block system keeps the barrel straight the as gun cycles, it would (or could) explain the more “linear feeling” recoil impulse you find in a Beretta 92. I also own a Walther P5 (which is more or less the final iteration of the P38) and I can tell you there is a definitely a similarity in how the guns handle and shoot… especially as it relates to recoil.

But it’s not all rainbows and unicorns

People bitch about the 92 being humongous.

It is. It’s freakin’ huge. But I ain’t mad about it. The weight and size (along with the locking block) are part of what make it such a great shooting gun. And it was never meant for concealed carry—it’s a duty gun, straight up. But I can’t give Beretta a pass on the double-action trigger. While the gun is simply sublime in SA, compared to competitive offerings from Sig Sauer (e.g., the P226) and Smith & Wesson, Beretta’s DA game leaves something to be desired.

With small hands, it can be hard to get enough “finger” out in front the trigger blade for a 100% straight-back pull.

The DA is long and heavy. No one’s surprised. It’s supposed to be that way. But when the 92’s hammer falls (in DA), the entire gun jerks, jostles and fishtails—and so do the sights. Now, this is partly because I have small hands: it’s tough to get enough “finger” in front of trigger for a 100% straight-back pull. But also think part of that “sight jerk” problem is because there’s more over travel in the Beretta’s DA action.

In other words, the hammer falls while you’re still plowing through the DA stroke. So, if you’re engaging the trigger at ANY kind of an angle… the gun jerks in (or against) that direction as the trigger jumps to backstop. Which, in turn, makes the sights skip off target.

Let me be clear: the distinction expressed above is—in the grand scheme of things—minor. But, comparing the Beretta’s DA pull to that of my Smith & Wesson 5906, you can see the difference in over travel. The Beretta’s trigger releases the hammer a bit farther away from the end-point of its travel, whereas the Smith’s trigger moves discernibly closer to the backstop when it releases. It’s not much—just a few millimeters. And pull itself is no lighter. But the hammer lays down soo cleanly with the 5906. The sights don’t budge.

Now, that’s not to say the DA trigger is unusable in a stock 92. Head shots at 10 yards? All day. Torso at 25? Sure. And I’ll say that this Beretta’s DA pull is definitely improving with more rounds/more dry firing. In any case, I tend to see the DA pull in a DA/SA gun as a defensive feature intended for reactive shooting under pressure; I don’t really expect to shoot DA as well as SA. Otherwise… if that was the expectation… why would they include SA on DA/SA guns?

That said, there are some good aftermarket options you can use to improve a 92’s stock DA pull:

• Lighter hammer spring. Either Beretta’s own “D” spring (originally intended for their DAO guns) or a chrome-silicon spring from Wilson Combat. Definitely lightens and smooths the DA stroke. Wilson offers a range of different weights, but I’ve read that the 12-pounder is as light was want to go, lest you risk light primer strikes.

• Langdon Tactical’s “Optimized Performance” trigger bar. It’s designed to reduce over travel and trigger reset. I have a Langdon OP trigger bar in my Beretta PX4C (which has the same sight-jostling issues—definitely a Beretta thing) and it does help.

• Langdon Tactical’s “Trigger Job in a Bag.” This is kinda the nuclear option. Langdon sends you a sack of pre-tuned fire-control components and you switch-out the parts. I had Langdon do some work on my PX4 (not the TJIB, but, when I ordered the gun), and it was honestly too light for me. But I got in touch with Ernest himself, sent him the trigger group and he made it perfect. Great service from Langdon.

• Short-Reach Trigger. These are available directly from Beretta. I actually haven’t tried one, but—as I alluded to before—I think getting “more finger” on the trigger can definitely aid in achieving a more controlled DA stroke.

Generational Differences

The technical differences between 92Fs, 92FSs and M9s have been covered to death in a gazillion other reviews and videos. Besides… if you’re a pistol hipster, you probably know all that anyway.

But, I will tell you this, one gun nerd to another: If you’re looking for an Italian-made 92, it might be worth your while to search out an F, or at least an earlier FS. While all Beretta 92s will shoot wonderfully, the newer Italian guns don’t really compare in terms of the superficial tactile and aesthetic qualities.

The Italian 92s have gradually been gaining more and more slide-etched “lawyer copy” since the mid 2000s. Current examples have what seems like an entire paragraph on each flat of the slide, combined with a very conspicuous import marking AND an ugly white-highlighted serial number. Also, Beretta Italy started using a rougher frame finish on their 92s around 2015. It’s honestly not terrible, but, it’s not as nice as what they were using before. And while the 2015 92FS Compact I had shot very well, I tend to think the overall build of the earlier guns was just a bit tighter and more sorted out. But that’s not say the 2015 felt cheap or “janky” by any means.

From what I can tell, none of the above applies to the Maryland and Tennessee 92s (and M9s). They all have clean, attractive slide markings and smoother finishes on the frames. I can’t speak to fit and feel because I’ve never owned an American-made 92 [sips Chianti, extends pinky]. But, suffice to say, if I was buying new… I’d buy American. True, it’s not as Gucci as having a legit Italian-made Beretta. But at least your gun won’t be moonlighting as a legal textbook.

Conclusions

The Beretta 92 kicks ass.

It’s elegant, yet functional. But it’s functional in a way that transcends what you’d get out of a Glock or most other “contemporary” service pistols: it’s just soo much more intuitive in how it handles and shoots. That’s a gray area, of course—and it’s my opinion. But, hey: you wouldn’t be reading this review if you didn’t want my opinion.

What are your thoughts on the Beretta 92? Experiences? Opinions? Scathing condemnations on my review? Feel free to share below…

Thanks so much for reading.

#hiptac

© 2022, Hipster Tactical