Indians For Guns

Mark IV remains a mystical creature, seen by a privileged few, debated and discussed by thousands. Many a battles have been fought on this forum debating the identity of the Mark IV. The direction in which its cylinder swings has generated more curiosity than JLos insured assets. Populated city walls have been perilously punched in videos with its firepower, but not one picture could be found on IFG for the brethren to ponder and soak in the Mark IV’s radiance. A few years ago, I would think to myself, when my time to procure a revolver would come, nothing, and I mean NOTHING, but the evasive Mark IV would do. “This would be my chance to get the ‘Distinguised IFGian’ tag line right next to my IFG handle”, I would say to myself. Well, maybe just the Poster of the Month award. Hell, the little knife that pops out of the shotgun shell would do just fine.

To add more weight to my demand..err… request for the Poster of the Month award I decided to get the answer to the IFG’s question of the decade, “What is the difference between the Mark III and Mark IV revolver?”. As this post ends, my life of mediocrity would end with the Poster of the Month title awarded and the legendary Mark IV’s picture on IFG. But more importantly gentlemen, I will pen down the difference between the legendary Mark III and Mark IV; the answer comes straight from the SAF officers.

As fate would have it, my time did come and with the piggy bank finally full to the brim and one kidney sold, I booked the Mark IV with SAF, Kanpur. Many months, and a few RTI letters later, the house bell rang. I opened the door and there stood the postman with..I kid you not...a halo around his head and an SAF letter in his hand. The Mark IV had finally been allotted! My joy knew no bounds. I could have kissed him had he not been the same guy who had twice delivered the rejection letters for my Rifle and Handgun applications. Past grudges aside, I hugged him and ran back to the family to deliver the good news. Sweets were distributed and ballads were sung. After celebrations that lasted a few days, I booked the train tickets to Kanpur.

However, how adventurous would a train journey be? Certainly not enough to win the Poster of the Month award. No more life of mediocrity, I reminded myself. I had to take my chances. I went to my loved one and spoke to her if she would be willing to take the dangerous journey across the dacoit infested Uttar Pradesh hinterland. This would be a journey of a 1000+ kms that would put our endurance and bravery to the utmost test. We would have to do it in less than 36 hours. Like Vigo Mortensen’s skewbald Hidalgo, she nodded in agreement! My joy yet again knew no bounds. The Mark IV was now within reach and so was the Poster of the Month award. The life of mediocrity was about to end.

For those who haven’t seen my loved one, here’s a picture. Well brought-up gentlemen don’t letch at other’s love so please give her only a passing glimpse.





Delhi to Kanpur and back is a 1000 km journey. I planned out the details and finalized the route; Delhi (leave 6 am) > Agra> Etawah> Kanpur. I decided to leave Delhi on a Sunday morning and come back on Monday. I had spoken to Ram Singh in Kanpur and he did a brilliant job in getting the paperwork sorted.

Saturday, the night before travel: Anyone who has driven/ridden long (or short!) distances would know that drinking and driving don’t mix. It’s both illegal and stupid. We drivers/riders therefore make up for all the drinking a night before the actual travel. And as fate would have it we had a family reunion. Russian fervor was appreciated instead of Scottish charm. I don’t take to Vodka too well and by the time I realized it, it was midnight. I went to sleep knowing well that I was behind schedule even before I had started my journey. I got up in the middle of the night, dehydrated and ill. Tomorrow is going to be a nightmare, I thought to myself. Gulped a bottle of water and went back to bed. The Poster of the Month award and the answer to the eternal Mark III vs IV question was beginning to feel like a distant dream.

Sunday: I fought a valiant battle with the morning alarm till the alarm finally won at around 7 am. No hangover! This was a good omen. The others in the family got up to swollen brains pressing against their skull- Yup, that is what the hangover does to you..

The luggage was minimal and I packed my travel kit in a motorcycle tank bag. It has 21 liters of space and is expandable to 31 liters. I ditched the tool bag and kept a puncture repair kit and tire inflator. A multi tool and adjustable spanner would have to take care of any eventuality.

I must mention here that I have heard great praise for the case one gets with the IOF revolvers. Truth be told, there’s more praise for that box than the revolver itself. The additional 10 liters of space was reserved for the case. I secretly hoped for an upgraded case for Mark IV buyers; I was, after all, buying THE Mark IV.

Got ready and left at 8 30 am. I had to get fuel so took a small diversion. Tank topped up I went to get the tire pressure checked. Just as the front tire was filled the machine conked off. Went to another petrol pump, which unfortunately had a long queue. While I waited patiently, I took out a “Cruise Control” contraption and put it on the Bonneville’s throttle control. It’s a simple plastic tool that helps retain the throttle in a particular position while cursing.. err.. cruising on our highways. Tire pressure checked I left and soon hit the 6 lane Delhi-Noida expressway. I then took the exit to the Greater Noida expressway and put the Cruise Control in action. The contraption performed exactly as it should but my brain didn’t. I had trouble letting a plastic device take control of my highway speeds. I egged on and reached what is undoubtedly amongst the best roads in India- The Yamuna Expressway (YEW). This is the road that now connects Delhi to Agra. The cruise control still played on my mind so I pulled over and changed to a Cramp Buster (CB). CB is again a simple contraption put on the throttle that supports the wrist. Easy to use and very practical. I have used a CrampBuster on the previous touring that I’ve done and found it extremely useful. Got back on the road and as I was adjusting the CrampBuster the bike, to my utter disbelief, died; the electricals and the engine completely shut off.

I hate fancy electricals on my vehicles and these newer vehicles are loaded with them. Clutch safety switch, side stand safety cut offs and blah! Mechanicals I can deal with, electricals are the nemesis. I crawled to the side of the road and parked it. Tried again a few times by switching the ignition on and off. No heartbeat, nothing at all. I had done my basic checks a week ago including checking the battery terminals. They certainly couldn’t be loose. I stood there for a few mins deciding what to do and cursed my decision to get greedy with the Poster of the Month award. Why didn’t I just take the train and get it over with.

And then it struck me, Mr. Lucas had decided to curse me from his grave for making fun of him with XL target. "F***, f***, f***", I said to myself as I stood there alone, in the middle of nowhere, "this trip is over."

To be contd.....

what the F!!! you have a triumph???

and you'll get the Mark IV too?

we need to meet up soon !!!

nicely written.. waiting for part 2..

Looks like a very interesting story in the making SS! Nice motorcycle

And then it struck me, Mr. Lucas had decided to curse me from his grave for making fun of him with XL target. "F***, f***, f***", I said to myself as I stood there alone, in the middle of nowhere, "this trip is over."

I think Lucas was related to Murphy... brother-in-law or something.

Such a lovely machine, SS! I'm trying not to stare, but just look politely. Lucas, or Amals, or whatever, she looks very fine.

I can't wait for the rest, including the Mark IV.

Chandan, our catch up is way overdue! Hope the mark iv is our good luck charm.

Thanks, Ck. Will try to finish the story over the weekend.

Xl_target, that completely explains the breakdown! it's vital information we missed discussing!

Timmy, i knew you'd be amongst the few gentlemen who'd appreciate my request.

You've got us all hooked and waiting eagerly for part 2, gentle reminder - the weekend is here!

...in the spirit of full disclosure, I must admit to shamelessly leering at your beloved!


Cheers!
Abhijeet

mundaire wrote: ...in the spirit of full disclosure, I must admit to shamelessly leering at your beloved!

I knew you couldn't be trusted. There goes your chance to caress her.

Btw, I've enticed Rakshit with a test ride to make him take the plunge. But I wonder if he'll ever be distracted from his classic beauties.

Part 2 coming soon

Part II

The Prince of Darkness had struck. In broad daylight.

You aren’t winning Mr. Lucas, I thought to myself. Not when the eternal question needs to be answered and the Poster of the month award needs to be won. I pulled myself together and decided to take off the luggage and seat to access the battery and do a thorough check.

But I was to be proved wrong. As I now realise, it wasn't Mr Lucas, it was his brother in law who got vindictive. By sheer chance, my eyes glanced across the engine kill switch placed right next to the throttle. It was in the ‘X’ position. While adjusting the Crambuster I had accidentally pressed the engine kill switch which shut off the engine and all the electricals. DUH! Switched it on and pressed the starter switch. The parallel twin cylinders roared to life. I was back in the game.

Note to self: use common sense before technical skills when faced with a breakdown.

Trip meter: 40 kms.
Time: 9 30 am.

On the best roads in India, in sparse traffic, I had managed to do 40 kms in 1 hour.

Urged the Bonneville to cover up on time and she dutifully responded. In the process she destroyed the egos of a few Audis and Hondas. The roads on the Yamuna Expressway (YEW) are like this:



I stopped at the highway restaurant where a bus to Agra was also taking a halt. The foreigners saw the Bonneville and quite a few came over to talk. They were surprised to see a Triumph in India. We got talking and they mentioned they were from Australia. I told them this is not a safe time for them to be here. The World Cup semifinal loss had bruised our egos and the wounds were fresh. They all laughed, I'm still not sure why. We talked for some time about cricket and bikes and they showed pictures of their own. I left the luggage in their guard and went in to get a bite.

After Agra there is a not-so-smooth 100 km odd stretch with a four lane highway. Oncoming local traffic on the wrong side, buffaloes crossing roads and cars coming dangerously close wanting to get a glimpse of the Bonneville kept my speeds within check.

Stopped for a much needed butt and sutta break just off the main highway:



The Triumph Bonneville: The motorcycle is a hoot to ride on highways and gets a lot of attention on the road and in cities that I have traveled to. Questions like:

Kitna deti hai? (What’s the fuel economy?)

Kitne kee hai? (How much does it cost?)

Kitne CC kee hai? (How many CC is it?)

Diesel kee hai!!? (does it run on diesel?)

Are bombarded everywhere I stop, be it the fuel station or meal stop. Sometimes it becomes an inconveince (like when you've stopped to ask for directions) and sometimes (when you are riding at 80 km/hr) it is outright risky, but mostly it is innocent inqusitiveness and our national infatuation to the mileage of any and every vehicle. We have, after all, calculated the mileage of our indigenous Mangal Yaan (Mars Orbiter) and compared it to the mileage of a humble auto rickshaw. I am quite patient in answering all the questions but the price I state varies from Rs. 60,000 to its actual price depending on the threat perception I have of the region- it shouldn't sound expensive enough to motivate them to rob me off it!

Refreshed, I gunned the Bonneville on the NHAI Golden Quadrilateral six lane NH2 and reached Kanpur in the evening and called up Ram Singh. He met me in on the outskirts of Kanpur and I followed his VW Polo to the hotel he had booked for me, Hotel Mandakini Palace. I agreed the plan with Ram for the next day. Checked in and took a hot shower. A customary beer and Butter Chicken later I hit bed to start early next day. Lay in bed for some time wondering if SAF would oblige me with their secrets. Sleep quickly took control of the knackered body.

To be contd....

This is turning out to be quite a read! Waiting in anticipation for the next installment!

Cheers!
Abhijeet

SS,

You have your readers in thrall. I am thoroughly enjoying the delectable prose. Mark IV or not, certainly Poster of the Month material, IMO.

Thank you for this report.

Pee Yess:

Well brought-up gentlemen don’t letch at other’s love

I just found out that I am a mere man.Nothing gentle about me it seems.


Best-
Vikram

Vikram wrote: I just found out that I am a mere man.Nothing gentle about me it seems...

I am ready to overlook it for your open support for the PoM award
Glad you enjoyed the travelogue, Vikram.

Part III

THE DAY: Ram met me around 8 45 am in the hotel. As planned I had packed my luggage (leaving space for the IOF Case!), and kept my riding jacket, gloves and protective gear in Ram’s car. A few other people staying at the Hotel joined us. They’d come from Punjab and we set off to SAF. Ram and our Punjabi friends in the car, me following them on my bike. We sliced through the chaotic traffic of Kanpur where almost every scooter, motorcycle, tempo and car tried to mow me down. This is all part of the grand plan to keep the SAF secret safe, I thought to myself. Thankfully, I survived the onslaught and we were at SAF in no time. My heart was beating heavy. Do I have all the paperwork? Where’s my license? Is my name spelt right? Is my purchase period correct? Will they get suspicious and interrogate me for asking too many questions on their secret small arm development practices? Thud! Thud! Thud!.. the heart went.

I parked the bike outside under Ram’s watchful eye and went in. I was asked to sit in the waiting area and a gentleman noted my details down. Not having much to do, I picked up a newspaper and read through it carrying elegantly my pretence of being a well informed and educated RKBA flag holder. I read it for about 5 mins before I gave a cursory look to check the newspaper date. It was from Oct 2014; quietly slid it under the chair.

A few words on the officers/employees of SAF: I found them extremely helpful and courteous; unlike most Govt. offices I have dealt with. They organize the delivery well, ensure they communicate the process clearly and help you through the way making the revolver delivery a breeze.

About 10 names were noted and we were asked to follow the SAF gentleman. The newspaper fiasco aside, I was super excited and couldn't wait to be taken through barricaded hallways with reinforced steel rods on the walls. I’d dreamed of security cameras and heavily armed CRPF jawans patrolling the delivery areas. Maybe I could steal a quick picture for IFG before they deposited (confiscated?) my phone, I thought.

We climbed 10 stairs and got into a large hall where chairs were organized in neat rows. I was told here’s where the revolver will be allocated. That’s it? No barricades? I’m not even going to get frisked? Am I even inside the factory premises? My phone’s still in my pocket, I nearly blurted out.

In one swift move, SAF had taken away all the glamour from the process. I was devastated.

But I wasn’t going to let one disappointment take the winds out of my sails. With childlike enthusiasm I jumped onto the only first row seat left vacant and started looking out the mythical Mark IV revolver to appear. I stretched my self as high as I could hoping to get a glimpse of the revolvers. The waiting area had a TV that played a news channel. Still embarrassed from the newspaper fiasco I brought my attention back to the delivery area where I noticed, lo and behold, strange objects that had appeared on the shelf- about 10 in all. I looked carefully and they sure didn’t look anything like a revolver; maybe I was hallucinating. Maybe this was all unreal. I pinched myself to confirm the reality and squinted my eyes to focus better. I realized the strangely kept objects were revolvers kept upside down!! The revolvers were placed with their weight resting on the front and rear sights and the grip pointing to the roof! 10 of them neatly arranged in a row sure made an amusing sight.I thought I'll click a picture but a loud gentleman 3 row behind me had got a stern warning a few minutes back not to talk on the phone or his phone would be seized.

Names were called out and the revolvers were allotted. My turn hadn’t come yet so I had to wait more. The gentleman sitting next to me, a graceful old man in dhoti kurta, got his revolver and came back to match his invoice details, license entry and inspect the revolver carefully. I helped him with the reconciliation. I noticed a white bag given to him that had an SAF sign- a creative one I must say- much like the Orange County Choppers. But there was something amiss and I couldn’t put my finger on it. The gentleman put his revolver in the bag and then it struck me – the case was missing! I asked him where the case was and he told me they’ve stopped giving it. Heartbreak! I nearly walked out in protest. Better sense prevailed and I labored on trying to deal with the disappointments which were beginning to add up and weigh me down.

Focus on the important things, I reminded myself and decided to make my move. The answer to the eternal question had to be found. So I walked up to the gentlemen incharge and started a polite conversation complimenting them for the simplified process- and rightly so. I was impressed with the simplicity and helpfulness of everyone I had met in SAF; and Kanpur in general, including Ram Singh. We spoke about my career and things in general. I mentioned to him about the missing case and he said it had been discontinued due to instances of ‘cases being manhandled once people had taken them’!?. I mentioned that I had come all the way from Delhi and had to carry the revolver back on my bike so a case would have helped. My vague implication that I be treated as a special case due to my extenuating circumstances only got a nod of disapproval-the idea of motorcycle touring was obviously alien to the gentleman. Before I lost out on my good will I decided to throw the eternal question to him. The conversation went like this:

“Sir, I’ve asked a lot of people but no one has the answer, I’m wondering what the difference between the Mark III and Mark IV revolver is?”, I asked.

I got a raised eyebrow as a response. I had travelled too far and risked too much to give up easily.

“I was told you’d be able to educate me”, I added instinctively, very excited, very attentive.

“Dekhiye,…” (I literally have my heart in my mouth), "Mark IV ek technologically advanced version hai Mark III ka”.

“Umm, par farak kya hai, Sir?” a resilient me asks.
(But what is the difference, Sir?)

“SS ji,” …Long pause…“basically, Mark IV is…” wait for it, gentlemen, because here it comes….”a very advanced version of the Mark III revolver. That is the main difference, nothing else”.

This time it was said in English with each word spoken slowly and with great emphasis.

So there you go my brothers in arms! You have the answer, straight from the horse’s mouth. What better place to find the answer than the birth place of the Mark III and IV revolver! Mark IV is, and will remain, the technologically advanced version of the Mark III revolver. Period.

With the battle half won, I focused my energy on getting my hands on ‘my’ revolver. After what seemed like eternity, but was only 10 mins on the clock, my name was finally called and the revolver was finally delivered. I said a short prayer, thanked almighty for giving me the strength to see this licensing and procurement process through.

I did a very scientific test by dry firing it a few times and peeped into the barrel. Damn, this one had rifling. Another great story lost. I could not be the ‘that guy’ in the shooting world whose revolver did not have rifling. Check the safety and damn again, it worked. I had hoped it wouldn’t. The revolver was heavily oiled- better than being rusted, I thought to myself. The revolver clearly had Mark IV printed on it, yet another controversy on IFG lost. This hadn't turned out to be an exciting process.

Papers signed, checks and reconciliations done I proudly walked out of the factory. It was now noon and I had to push off back for Delhi. It had rained heavily for the last few hours but had thankfully subsided by the time I came out. I spoke to Ram and mentioned that while I was keen on getting ammo and a holster I was short on time. He mentioned that his (actually his brother’s) Gun shop is only 2 kms away and on the same road as the factory if I wanted to get ammunition. Prices and availability in Delhi are high and low respectively. So decided to ride down to the shop called Sai Gun House. The prices of .32 S&W IOF ammunition was a decent Rs. 65 a pop. Since I had not got the case I needed something to carry the revolver. I had thankfully done some research and in the end decided that the shoulder holster would be the best way to carry it to Delhi. Motorcycle luggage is highly prone to being nicked and on frequent butt breaks I wouldn't want to leave my revolver unattended. Carrying the firearm in person on a motorcycle has its disadvantages too. In case of a fall this could lead to serious injury. I weighed my options and stuck to the shoulder holster that would be well concelealed under my riding jacket which was water and weather proof. After years of hard work, I wasn't going to trust the ROK straps on my luggage for the security of THE Mark IV.

Anyway, I left Kanpur at 1 o clock. I wanted to cover as much distance as possible before it gets dark.

The roads were like this:




What’s a solo motorcycle trip without a selfie?


Refreshment break. The little girl at the shop looked around for the coldest bottle of 7up she could find.




Lunch break at Hotel Gunjan, Sirsaganj. Apparently, Gunjan is a popular person in that area- Gunjan Restaurtant, Gunjan Petrol pump, Gunjan Cold Storage, Gunjan Chowk..the list goes one.




As I hit the YEW the weather got cloudy around 5 30 pm.. I wanted to make the most of the dry weather and the light. Top speed was about a 170km/hr on the Bonneville. Cruising could be consistently done at 130km/hr.

And then the inevitable rain came. And when it rains in pours. The speed came down to 70 km/hr. My motorcycle jacket and gloves are water proof. But I had decided to wear my jeans since rain in later March was the last thing on my mind. I was drenched after probably 20 mins of riding. The wind and rain chilled me to the bone..My DSLR had been assigned to the gallows of my bag so only the phone camera could be used. ...After a short break, I decided to move on. Here's what the bike looked like:



30 mins later the rain intolerably bit into me and I needed another break. It was just too chilly to ride on and I hadn't eaten anything since my lunch. A cup of tea and some biscuits could warm me up. I stopped at a refreshment area on YEW and walked up to the counter thinking hot tea, hot tea. "One Mother Dairy chocolate ice cream stick please", I blurted out. When ice-cream calls, it calls, there's no refusing the urge.



I had now done 984 kms in less than 36 hours and home was another 70 kms.



Loaded on the sweetness of Belgium cholcolate ice-cream, I gave that last leg all I had and was home at 8 15 pm.

I had started my journey to get my arms license in 2007 IIRC. 8 years, 1054 kms, 36 hours and 1 Mark IV later, I had truly become a RKBA flag holder. This trip is dedicated to my friends at IFG... and of course to my goal at hitting the Poster of the Month jackpot

Oh! and I almost forgot... The legendary Mark IV:
(nope it's not a side swinging cylinder )


The only visible difference from the Mark III (apart from the technological advancement ) : the thicker barrel profile...


No case, only a white bag . The Orange Country Chopper resembling SAF logo.. I do like it for its creativity...but no case..urgh!



The ammo from the Feb-2014 batch at Rs. 65 a pop.



A grip I find surprisingly well suited to my hand size:



My opinion of the Mark IV? Well, its everything I expected it to be. Old design, poor finish, hard trigger et al. However,

I can choose to criticize it for its antediluvian design or praise it for its simplicity,
I can choose to call it pricey compared to what people pay for an S&W in US, or call it cheap compared to what people pay for an S&W in India
I can choose to call it poorly machined or have confidence that it fires every time I squeeze the trigger
I can ponder at the irony of me being prohibited from owing an Ishapore rifle, or at the irony of a British citizen being prohibited at owing a Webley,

The truth is the IOF revolver and pistol remain the last of the symbols of RKBA in India. Their production, albeit to lowly standards, gives people like me hope that sanity and sense hasn't been completely lost by our politicians. One day the imports of firearms will open up, the government will become more trusting of its people and arms training and ownership will be liberablised. Till then, if the time comes, and I pray to God it never does, I will fall back on my IOF (Mark IV!) to protect my family. I know, with full confidence, that if I squeeze the trigger, it will go bang and that alone makes it the world's best revolver.

Cheers,
Sumit

Excellent tale, SS, and well written! Having been in rainstorms on a MC, your description allowed me to relive the experience (with a shiver, and recalling pouring about a liter of water out of each of my cowboy boots...).

The fun of reading your story more than makes up for your preempting the flashes of expertise we would have had, if you had not described the "technological advancements" of the Mk IV.

Now, what I'm worried about is whether authorities will force you to put clothing on your Triumph and not let her appear nude in public. Especially in that white and blue color scheme, which is truly deadly!

Great story! And thanks for the information!

Congratulations on the technologically much advanced MARKIV (read it backwards and tell me ). It rather looks nice. I would reckon a nice smith like our own Cottage Cheese or Bobby Sidhu would smoothen it no time and make it a lot more pleasant to shoot.

Thank you for the lovely report. I chuckled a good few times. I could see that you were enjoying writing it.


Best-
Vikram