I fondly remember Col. Cooper telling the story of the grunts in the movie theater, watching some movie wherein a woman produces a semiautomatic and fills some guy with lead. A guy in the crowd yells, “Okay Lady, police your brass and move off the line!”, to the knowing roar of the crowd.
Policing brass. The curse of the responsible (and green) shooter. Many times over the years for me, it meant bending over in the desert picking dusty brass out of the dirt, cactus and gravel, and putting it back into the boxes from whence it came. Or a Ziplock, or a plastic grocery bag. Or a jeans pocket. To be sorted and cleaned later. Maybe.
I’m disabled. I’ve a fused right hip (amongst other infirmities). This makes policing brass problematic at best. But, when I can, I do it.
Unlike so many others who lay waste to the desert with non-biodegradable target materials and spent brass!
Reportedly works well on concrete, desert floors not-so-much…
(That big blue plastic tarp drop cloth still looks pretty good, huh? )
h/t New Jovian Thunderbolt
FTC – Ammo Up give me nothing!