Inherent Weakness ?

[Alan de Enfield]

I'm begining to wonder why there almost no interest in the mechanical proprties and metalurgy of the Enfield Rifles among Collectors of the Enfield Rifles.

Seems like collectors of other firearms go to great lengths to learn as much as possible about how the guns were made, and steps taken to overcome early difficulties with the design.

Since the Lee Enfields were for the most part manufactured using Pratt and Whitney Gauges and Mass Production techniques developed by Colt and other US Gunmakers, and the Basic action design was a development of a design by a US Citizen who's bolt action rifles were in use by the US military long before the British ever tested it, its likely that technical knowledge of the rifles can be found among the records of US manufacturers such as Pratt & Whitney or Savage about as easily as the strangely sparse published data from UK sources.

Surely a few UK members have books on the subject with information that would be useful.
The Metalurgy of the M1917 was easy to find, most likely because the US Military always kept detailed records on such things, and made them available for study by prospective manufacturers and designers of the future.
So far I've found little in UK sources on metalurgy and next to none on manufacturing techniques employed.

Maybe I'm in the minority but "It Is What It Is", they were not designed for any weird and wonderful magnum load, they work as designed, they shoot more accurately than I can, they saved the Free World on two major occasions (and many other smaller skirmishes since) and I see no reason to get as Anal as the "Garand collectors" and others.

Enjoy them for what they are.

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[Alfred]

Maybe I'm in the minority but "It Is What It Is", they were not designed for any weird and wonderful magnum load, they work as designed, they shoot more accurately than I can, they saved the Free World on two major occasions (and many other smaller skirmishes since) and I see no reason to get as Anal as the "Garand collectors" and others.

Enjoy them for what they are.

"saved the Free World", I guess there was no need for all those bombers and warships then.
The Enfield did its job well but I don't think any one could seriously claim that it , or any infantry rifle, was the deciding factor in 20th century warfare.

"It is what it is", well the metal it was made of and the techniques used in its manufacture are what made it what it is.
I can shoot more accurately than all but the best examples of the Enfields would allow, and with taylored handloads I've been able to wring out an amazing level of accuracy from my rifles.
Hesketh-Pritchard was an expert marksman and could shoot better than the rifles he was issued would allow for. He wrote that the accuracy life of the bore depended on erosion, and that the rifles used for sniping had a peak accuracy life of as little as 500 rounds , with 600-1000 being the norm. This led to his limiting attempts at headshots to 400 yards rather than the 600 normally considered likely. He figured that each and every shot fired must be made to count because potential accuracy life was so short.
There was plenty of ammo, but bores were worn out quickly by the service ammunition.

[Alan de Enfield]

"saved the Free World", I guess there was no need for all those bombers and warships then.
The Enfield did its job well but I don't think any one could seriously claim that it , or any infantry rifle, was the deciding factor in 20th century warfare.

.

OK maybe a slight exageration but :

The young Marine was weary
And he sought a little rest
With his helmet for a pillow
And his rifle on his chest.

He has seen the gunships fire.
He had heard the cannons roar.
He had seen the Navy’s power
As he made his way ashore.

Then he thought about his rifle
And he found it rather small,
With the gunships and the cannons
It was nothing much at all.

The efforts of a rifleman
Meant little, it would seem.
Then, as he slipped to slumber,
He dreamed himself a dream.

The man who stood beside him
Held a musket in his hand
And close around his neck he wore
A heavy leather band.

“When I was on Old Ironsides”
The apparition said
“There were cannonballs and cutlasses
Wherever danger led.

There were pistols too, and daggers
At every fighter’s side
When the ships would come together
On the rolling, heaving, tide

But when it came to boarding,
With the battle fury hot
It was rifles, always rifles
That made the telling shot.”

The apparition faded
And standing in its place
Beneath a shallow helmet
He saw another face.

“When we were in the trenches
In the Wood they call Marine
There were mortars, tanks, and cannons,
More than I had ever seen.

But when the final charge was made
To push the Germans back
It was rifles, always rifles
At the point of the attack.”

The face changed only slightly
And the helmet stayed the same
But the island that he spoke of
Had a more familiar name.

“They hit us very early
On the day the war begun.
On the wings of all their bombers
We could see the Rising Sun.

Our pilots and our gunners
Who fought and fell at Wake
Wrote a story full of glory
That time can never shake.

But when the enemy drew near
To make his final reach
It was rifles, always rifles
That met him on the beach.”

There next appeared a shadow
In a swirl of stinging snow
And it breathed a fierce defiance
And its eyes were all aglow.

“In ‘Fifty at the Chosin
When the big guns couldn’t talk
And the First Marine Division
Took a fighting, freezing walk,

When all the world, except the Corps
Had counted us as gone
It was rifles, always rifles
That let us carry on.”

The scene was changed to summer
And the face was hard and lean
And the tired eyes were fired
With the light that says “Marine”

“At Khe Sahn when they shelled us
We were wrapped in rolling smoke
And the thought of our survival
Was a grim and ghastly joke.

But when the waves came swarming in
To finish the assault
It was rifles, always rifles
That called the final halt.”

There next appeared a general
As solid as a tank
With three stars on his collar
To signify his rank.

His stature and demeanor
Were the military type
And in his hand he carried
A stubby little pipe.

His jaw was squarely chiseled
His eyes were clear and keen
And his bearing left no question.
He was all Marine’s Marine.

“The message they’re conveying”
The burly General said
“Is that through our troubled history
The rifles always led.

We’ve had cannons, tanks, and mortars
We’ve had weapons by the score,
We’ve had battleships and fighter planes
To complement the Corps.

We’ve a most impressive arsenal.
That’s obviously true,
But the final thrust for victory
Has always been with you.

It was rifles, always rifles
When the Corps was sorely pressed
And the rifle that you carry
Must meet the final test.

So sling that rifle proudly,
For everything we do
With mortars, tanks, and cannons
Is just an aid to you.”

The young Marine awakened
And put the dream aside,
Though now he clutched his rifle
With a certain touch of pride.

And then he chanced to notice
That lying near his hand
Was a stubby little pipe
And a heavy leather band.

~ R.A. Gannon ~
Sergeant of Marines