Tactical Reload: Trick or Reality?
MEET YOUR INNER MONKEY
We are truly the children of the ancient killer apes, blessed with an "operating system" that has quite literally given us the world. Our operating system, that set of software routines and their associated actions intended to keep us alive, was designed for a very different world than the one we live in now. Our original predators had really big teeth and us on the dinner menu, and our primary stopping-power issues revolved around the best hardwood for bludgeons. Despite a change of milieu, our Inner Monkey--IM, for short--is still peeking around the corners of our mind, looking for sabre-tooths and dire wolves, and we have the appropriate set of hard-wired reactions for just such problems.
For example, when threatened, we focus on the threat, our IM jumping up and down and pointing at the thing that wants to kills us. In this case, focus means much more than "pay close attention to." A whole series of mental and physical reactions crank up; all our senses narrow down, focusing on the threat. (You know about tunnel vision, auditory exclusion, the "slowing" of time effect, etc., right? If you carry a gun, you'd better.) We lose fine motor control as a whole pharmacy of drugs is launched into our bloodstream to better prepare us to either run like hell or attack.
Ralph Mroz, author of Defensive Shooting for Real-Life Encounters and one of the most thoughtful commentators on the current state of self-defense training, calls this the "startle effect." We monkeys startle. Which leads us to the first rule of training for high-stress decision-making: You can't beat the operating system, the IM. Not ever.
At its best, the tactical reload is a Rube Goldberg collection of fine motor movements. Don't believe me? In the course of your average day, how many things do you catch by grabbing with your palm and last two fingers? Or with your palm, forefinger and middle finger? The short answer is none.
Tell yourself over and over again that you're going to catch a ball using only your palm and a couple of fingers, practice as much as you want, then have someone throw a Nerf ball at your face, really hard. Your IM overrides your conscious thought, and you catch the ball with your entire hand because that's what the hand is designed to do, and it's what we've been doing for the last million years or so.
The more any action runs counter to our design parameters, the more we have to think about that action in order to accomplish it. The common answer to this is practice more; heck, there are even people who juggle running chain saws, so anything is possible. Two points here from my experience: In training for dangerous, potentially lethal situations, one of the biggest challenges was to never train an action that went directly against our IM because that training would fail under stress. Instead, we learned to break down an activity into its component parts, break down those component parts even further to their fundamental actions, then train from the ground up. Fundamental actions can be defined as "things monkeys do."
A quick, simple example: I did some dives on deep wrecks, outside the bounds of recreational scuba. Several of those wrecks were covered with old fishing nets, making them death traps for both sea life and visiting divers. So the prudent diver always carried a knife, which the prudent diver practiced getting to from constrained positions.
And was that knife a big, honking thing strapped to my ankle like in James Bond movies? Nope, my knives were small, razor-sharp blades designed to cut webbing and zip-tied to my scuba harness just below shoulder level. A reflex, high-stress reaction--crossing my arms over my chest--puts both hands on the knives.
The major reason that speed reloads have been taken to amazing levels--sub-one-second reloads!--by top competitors is that the speed reload is built on a "monkey" movement of bringing the hands together. Try it: Close your eyes, and attempt to applaud. Wow! If you're like most primates, you were able to do it the first time. The speed reload builds on that fundamental movement.
BUT WAIT, IT GETS WORSE
OK, the tactical reload is a bio-mechanically unsound technique, utilizing a nonfundamental series of fine motor movements that are virtually guaranteed to fail under high-stress conditions. But the tactical reload has even more problems. For a start, as Walt Rauch notes in his excellent book, the tactical reload probably won't work if you have small hands or are using a double-stack magazine.
That's right. It's a technique designed for guys with big hands who shoot manly 1911 single stacks, which pretty much describes all the "world-class instructors" who teach the technique. What it doesn't describe is women. Which brings us to the last three nails in the tactical reload's coffin:
1) It is slow, sometimes achingly so. At the very time when you want your gun refilled as fast as possible, you're fumbling around trying to remember which fingers catch what. On Brian Enos' excellent Internet forum, good shooters have reported their baseline times on a tactical reload are in the two- to three-second region when "everything goes right." Yeah, that happens a lot! Compare that to a one-second speed reload, the basics of which can be taught in less than five minutes.
2) The tactical reload is now responsible for the bulk of firearms malfunctions at IDPA matches. Failure to properly seat the magazine can leave you with a gun that doesn't go bang and a magazine on the ground, something of a worst-case scenario in one of those pesky real-world situations. When we started seriously competing in IPSC matches in the early 1980s we learned very quickly to slam the magazine in place (those plastic magazine bases used to be called "slam pads" for exactly that reason).
"Are we teaching a technique that leads to malfunctions at a time when the person can least afford them?" he asked. I saw numerous failures to seat, including magazines dropping onto the ground. I also saw even more shooters taking extra time to make sure the magazine was seated after a tactical reload, pushing the average reload time into the five- to 10-second arena.
3) Because the tactical reload is based on nonfundamental fine motor movements, it requires more mental attention to have any hope of accomplishing it in an expedited manner. That means during the course of the reload, the shooter's focus is off the threat. Setting aside the issue of whether this is even possible given that a million years of evolution and a screaming IM demand that our attention stay on what's trying to kill us, you've now turned your attention away from your attacker for at least a couple of seconds. We know from the Tueller Drill that a determined attacker can cover 21 feet--seven yards--in 1.5 seconds. We also know that the overwhelming majority of civilian gunfights happen inside seven yards. While you're behind cover playing with your gun, your assailant is moving, getting into a better position to whack you. In the five seconds it's likely to take you to reload, your assailant could relocate his or her whole family into the neighborhood and probably erect a tent. Five seconds is forever.
I had occasion to spend some time with an Israeli security specialist, military sniper and top firearms instructor a few months back. He was conversant with the shooting sports, and although his name can't appear in this article, I think his comments are germane.
"We stopped teaching tactical reloads," he told me, "because the people who tried to do them kept getting killed."
So what do you do if you're trapped in Condition Black and you have a chance to reload? Speed reload the gun! Drop the partially used magazine on the ground, ram the full magazine in hard, and continue with what you were doing as quickly as possible. If you're kneeling behind cover when you do the reload and there's time, by all means pick up--another fundamental monkey move--the partially charged magazine, and stuff it somewhere.
And if you're worried about not having enough ammunition in a firefight--even though no civilian gunfight that I could find reference to has been decided on round count--do what my Israeli friend suggests: "Carry more magazines."
Veteran handgun competitor and author Michael Bane is host of the television series Shooting Gallery on The Outdoor Channel. He's also the managing consultant for the National Shooting Sports Foundation's media education program.