This has come up before, and my reasons for generally carrying a BUG haven’t changed. And mechanical failure of my primary isn’t at the top of the list.
One of my long-time soapboxes (so pardon the long post) is that, outside of one’s home or business, defending oneself from a deadly threat is going to be about fighting--about survival--not about precise marksmanship. The anecdotal stories of CHL’s using guns in self-defense need to be evaluated and separated in that light. If you are in a structure you control and the felon is coming to you, it’s a very different scenario than the CHL holder out in public in an urban environment: going to and from your car, loading groceries, walking the dog, stopping to get gas, going to the ATM, etc.
Too, keep in mind those stories are, by definition, tales of the successful deployment and use of a firearm. If the good guy is never able to use his or her gun and the felon wins, you’ll never hear about the details of the encounter.
The best statistics we have show that in outside-the-home shootings that result in the death of the good guy, the conflict distance is less than 15 feet in 90% of the cases:
- Contact to 3 feet: 34%
- 3 feet to 6 feet: 47%
- 6 feet to 15 feet: 9%
In shootings where the good guy survives, the shooting distance is less than 20 feet in 75% of the cases:
- Contact to 10 feet: 51%
- 10 feet to 20 feet: 24%
Violent felons live “in the hole,” in that zero-to-6-foot zone. That’s where they do business, whether they’re confronting a police officer or preying on an unprepared citizen. As CHL holders, we have more burden of law placed upon us with regard to displaying our firearms than do police officers. We have to be darned certain that when we draw, it is justified. And we have clothing covering our weapons that we have to get out of the way before we can even start the draw.
In practical, street situations, the CHL holder is always going to be at the wrong end of the action-reaction curve if something serious starts to go down. We can’t pull our guns preemptively. Also consider that while the rapist and the junky in desperate need of a fix may typically work solo, it isn’t uncommon to see armed robbers or carjackers work in pairs.
Force-on-force exercises with Simunition or AirSoft guns plus training knives rapidly drive home that violent confrontations in a 360-degree world, launched from within zero to six feet, are fast, chaotic, and messy. If you’re familiar with the Teuller drill from 21 feet, think of the real-world consequences of an armed robbery or kidnapping launched at six to 10 feet. If you’re forced to, there’s no good way to fight to retain your firearm without totally engaging at least one of your arms.
My theory is that I have an arm on each side of my body for a reason. My primary pistol is on my right hip, my BUG is in my left front pocket. If one of my hands is engaged, I still have a firearm on the same side of my body as my other arm. And if, heaven forbid, a felon wrests my gun from me, I don’t want to just stand there and politely ask him to give it back.
Force-on-force training also reinforces a point G.A. Heath made about injury. When both combatants deploy and use handguns, guess where the vast majority of first hits occur? Yep: in the hands and arms; they’re typically up in front of COM, so that makes sense even if you haven’t experienced it yourself. If you’re in a bad situation, primary gun in your dominant hand, and that arm/hand is shot or severely cut, the likelihood you will drop the gun is very high. Ya can’t call a timeout to towel off, bend down, pick up the pistol with your other hand, check its condition, and then start the game-clock again.
My BUG is a tiny Seecamp. Doesn’t even have sights. But for me its sole purpose is for use as a near-contact weapon. Even though it’s only a .32, a few quick rounds will definitely sting while I try to get the upper hand on the problem and get back to my .45. Clint Smith (the same guy who coined, “Two is one, one is none”) says that the purpose of a sidearm is to fight your way back to the rifle you should never have left behind in the first place. That’s how I look at my BUG: it’s there to help me get back to my primary if things have gone really badly.
Similarly, I almost always carry a blade, a folder I position so that I can reach it with either hand. ’Course, it has the added advantage of being able to cut seat belts or act as a glass striker.
I carry spare mags for my primary, too. Because it’s my primary, and I’d rather use .230-grain .45 ACP rounds if I have the choice. It isn’t about total round count. If a situation goes badly south, I doubt I’d need all eight onboard rounds to extricate myself. But with autoloaders, the part most likely to cause a malfunction is the magazine.
Bottom line is that, IMHO, most of the reasons to carry in the first place also support the notion of carrying a BUG. Have I ever needed a fire extinguisher in my home? Nope. But I don’t have just one; I have one upstairs and two downstairs. And by extension, car seatbelts evolved from lap-only, to lap-plus-shoulder. Why? Because two was a better idea than one. I’m glad we have brakes on both the front and rear wheels, too. And I backup the data on my PC.
My BUG is one of the smallest (though not the lightest) at 4.25” x 3”. Dropping it in my pocket takes no time, and I don’t miss having that pocket to store other stuff in. So why not do it? Why not have more than one fire extinguisher?
It isn’t at all about being tacticool or an urban Rambo wannabe. Just the opposite. I’m gettin’ old and slow, can’t run or fight like I used to, and if it ever comes to it, I’d rather have that second fire extinguisher and never need it, than need it and not have it.
