Many years ago, I dropped a hammer on a .22 blank that happened to be on the ground, primer side up. It fired – very loudly. It wasn’t until many minutes later, when I felt an itch from a trickle of blood running down my arm, that I noticed what appeared to be a sliver of brass embedded in my arm.

After struggling to get a grip on the “sliver”, I finally managed to pull it out – and found myself holding a ragged piece of brass about .5″ by 1″. The .22 casing had split, flattened out, flew from the ground to my arm at waist level, and embedded itself about halfway between wrist and elbow. I felt nothing – until I yanked it out.