GC
Well-known member
It began with a request from Dad. Dad asked me to clean his little Beretta Tomcat .32 belly gun. I hadn't seen the thing in years, and when I got it in hand it looked terribly dry and maybe just a bit neglected so I decided to tear the little pistol down and give it a really good once over. Dad had lost the manual, but hey, who needs that, right? This is a tip up barrel model and sorta unique in the way the slide comes off the frame. I figured that out and next removed the grip panels, no problem to break it down to the basic components. I swabbed her inside and out and cleaned everything of the accumulated gunk of being neglected for years, dried it, and carefully lightly lubed it.
Reassembly was a reverse operation and things were looking good… until I tried the thumb safety. The thumb safety had no “snap” and just swung up and down not working and with no tension on it. WTH? It was then (fortunately) that I noticed a tiny, no that is incorrect, a miniscule spring lying on my bench top. Uh oh… where’d that come from? Had to be the safety. I took the grip off the left side and removed the safety, now where does that tiny little spring go? Oh he//, no idea so I resorted to Google and discovered that this was a common problem for this model and that I was also missing a tiny little safety plunger. Oh no, where could that thing be? I carefully and methodically searched the bench, the floor, the entire room and could not find this plunger part that I needed to make the gun whole again. I searched a second time with nothing found and I lost my temper and used some colorful language directed at a team of engineers in Italy. The wife gave some sage advice, walk away and calm down. I watched a little TV and had a glass of tea. Refreshed I searched again… grrrrr. The third search brought forth a spew of blue language reminiscent of Raphies dad on the Christmas Story when the neighbor’s dogs ate the turkey or the furnace acted up.
I boxed up the gun and put it away, gonna have to order a safety plunger, dammit. Some time later I walked past the door to that room and retraced my steps and just stood in the doorway looking around the room. Something caught my eye in the carpet… a teeny tiny little piece of metal about one eight of an inch long and less than a sixteenth of an inch in diameter… a safety plunger!!! Hot dammm, I was in business, though I found out shortly that a feller needs three hands to reinstall that safety with the plunger and spring working as they should. But I got ‘er done and learned a lesson or two. Do a little research on those projects you aren’t too familiar with, use a plastic bag to disassemble those projects you aren’t too familiar with, never take the grip panels off Beretta Tomcats, grow a third arm/hand and an extra eye wouldn’t be a bad idea either, bad language doesn’t help – punch a pillow instead, tea don’t help – substitute with alcohol in the future. And most importantly my Dad is the smartest man in the world for asking somebody else to clean that dammed Beretta Tomcat!
Reassembly was a reverse operation and things were looking good… until I tried the thumb safety. The thumb safety had no “snap” and just swung up and down not working and with no tension on it. WTH? It was then (fortunately) that I noticed a tiny, no that is incorrect, a miniscule spring lying on my bench top. Uh oh… where’d that come from? Had to be the safety. I took the grip off the left side and removed the safety, now where does that tiny little spring go? Oh he//, no idea so I resorted to Google and discovered that this was a common problem for this model and that I was also missing a tiny little safety plunger. Oh no, where could that thing be? I carefully and methodically searched the bench, the floor, the entire room and could not find this plunger part that I needed to make the gun whole again. I searched a second time with nothing found and I lost my temper and used some colorful language directed at a team of engineers in Italy. The wife gave some sage advice, walk away and calm down. I watched a little TV and had a glass of tea. Refreshed I searched again… grrrrr. The third search brought forth a spew of blue language reminiscent of Raphies dad on the Christmas Story when the neighbor’s dogs ate the turkey or the furnace acted up.
I boxed up the gun and put it away, gonna have to order a safety plunger, dammit. Some time later I walked past the door to that room and retraced my steps and just stood in the doorway looking around the room. Something caught my eye in the carpet… a teeny tiny little piece of metal about one eight of an inch long and less than a sixteenth of an inch in diameter… a safety plunger!!! Hot dammm, I was in business, though I found out shortly that a feller needs three hands to reinstall that safety with the plunger and spring working as they should. But I got ‘er done and learned a lesson or two. Do a little research on those projects you aren’t too familiar with, use a plastic bag to disassemble those projects you aren’t too familiar with, never take the grip panels off Beretta Tomcats, grow a third arm/hand and an extra eye wouldn’t be a bad idea either, bad language doesn’t help – punch a pillow instead, tea don’t help – substitute with alcohol in the future. And most importantly my Dad is the smartest man in the world for asking somebody else to clean that dammed Beretta Tomcat!
