Here’s that new snippet I promised a few days ago…
August 20, 1942 - San Marcos Armory Main factory, San Marcos, Hays County, Republic of Texas
Secretary of War Gonzales-Alvarado sat with Brevet Field Marshals Isaac Hearns and Bob Merwin, along with a number of other senior Army and Marine Corps officers on the shooting range next door to the SMA plant. There was a covered table standing near the shooting lanes. They were soon joined by SMA’s President, George Trevor, Chief Designer Stan Hillman, and, surprisingly, Viola von Stahlberg. The men rose from their seats as she walked onto the range.
“Mister Secretary, Field Marshals, thank you for coming. Today we’re going to demonstrate the final production version of our proposed new rifle for the Texas Army and Marine Corps. We call this version the Rear-Action Short Automatic Rifle, or Razor, for short. We like to think they’ll give our country’s enemies a close shave they’ll never forget.”
“Thank you, Mister Trevor. Mrs, von Stahlberg, may I ask why you are here? Not that the company of a lady isn’t always welcome, of course.”
Viola blushed, then smiled. “Why thank you, Mister Secretary. As for why I’m here, Mister Hillman asked me to help with the shooting demonstrations. Shall we get started?”
Mr. Hillman pulled the cover off of the table, revealing piles of rifle parts. Mr. Trevor continued. “As you will recall, gentlemen, one of the major concerns your Ordnance experts had was with interchangeability of parts. We believe that we have fully resolved those issues. To demonstrate this, Mrs. von Stahlberg will select parts at random to assemble a complete rifle, then take it over to the firing line to try it out.”
Viola stepped over to the table. She began selecting parts, with Mr. Hillman assembling them as she went. He handed her the finished rifle. “Interesting. It’s not as heavy as I was expecting.”
Hillman replied “Your rifle has all the metal parts made from steel, ma’am. We have been able to make many of the non pressure bearing parts out of aluminum alloy, shaved almost a pound off of that prototype’s weight without compromising durability.”
Marshal Merwin asked “How did a civilian get hold of an experimental military rifle?”
“It wasn’t a military rifle at that time” said Mr. Trevor. “Admiral von Stahlberg contacted us a year ago with suggestions for a special rifle for his wife. After we made that one, we thought that with some refinement it might be suitable for use by soldiers or Marines. So we made more of them and sent them to the Army Ordnance office for testing. You know the rest of the story from there, sir. Would you like to try it out, ma’am?”
“Certainly, Mister Trevor.” She laid the rifle on the table and inserted a loaded magazine. She then took the rifle over to the firing line next to one of the posts holding up the roof and nodded, waiting for the rangemaster to give permission to fire.
“Ready on the firing line! Commence firing!”
Viola hooked the rifle’s charging handle on the post and pushed forward, forcing the handle back. When she pulled it away from the post, the handle and bolt snapped forward, chambering the first round from the magazine. She raised the rifle and began firing, leaning forward slightly to offset the recoil. In a moment the fifteen rounds were gone, the bolt locked open on the empty magazine. She laid it on the table after the rangemaster called cease fire.
“What do you think, ma’am?”
“Well, it has somewhat more recoil than my rifle, but I suppose that’s to be expected considering the reduced weight. Might I have another magazine? I should like to try the automatic setting. Mine doesn’t have that.”
“Certainly, ma’am” said Hillman. He handed her a 40 round magazine from a Model 1928 machine gun. She inserted it, moved the selector to the automatic position, and walked back to the firing line. The VIP guests were all staring at her.
“Ready on the firing line! Commence firing!”
She leaned forward again, raising the sights to her eye. As she had been coached to do beforehand, she fired in short bursts, the empty cases flying out from under her cheek. All too soon, she was out of ammo again.
“It can’t be that easy to use” Marshal Merwin shouted.
“But it is, Field Marshal. The rifle’s design make it so the recoil goes straight back, with only a little muzzle climb that can be handled with the proper technique, as Mrs. von Stahlberg has demonstrated. Would you like to try it?”
“Damn right I do, Trevor. But not that one. I want to put together a different one.”
“Certainly, sir. We have enough parts here to make a dozen rifles, enough for each of you to try one.”
Merwin, Hearns, and the senior Ordnance men all went to the table and began putting rifles together. Viola sat down next to the Secretary of War.
“That was an impressive demonstration, ma’am. Obviously you’ve done a fair bit of shooting before this.”
“Indeed I have, Mister Secretary. Something my husband taught me to enjoy. I only wish those had been Frenchmen down at the other end of the range, not mere paper targets.”
“I understand how you feel, ma’am.” He turned to face Mr. Trevor. “George, how soon can you get these things into production?”
“We’re equipped to produce a thousand rifles a week now, Mister Secretary, By the end of next month, we can boost that to three thousand a week, assuming no supply difficulties.”
Field Marshal Hearns walked up, cradling one of the rifles like it was a newborn baby and grinning like a schoolboy. “Mister Secretary, I want as many of these things as we can get. They’re perfect for the airmobile forces.”
“I agree, Isaac. How do you think the troops will react to them?”
“Well, sir, once my Marines hear that the Admiral’s wife shot a passing score with one arm, they’ll be all over them like white on rice.” He nodded to Viola. “Ma’am, that was an outstanding performance. You have a real talent for this. Would you be available for demonstrations to the troops?”
Viola beamed with pride. She really had come to enjoy shooting since coming to Texas, and the events of the last years had reinforced that. “I’m sure something can be arranged, Marshal Hearns.”
Copyright 2025 D.A. Brock
