Banzai, Browning!

As the 737 rolled to a stop, the ground crew bowed deeply before deploying the wheel chocks. It immediately brought to mind the courtesy and pride in work that is shown by the Japanese. I previously had been in Japan during two short Army deployments and, despite the soon-to-end 28-hour travel day, had been eager to return. Stepping from the plane, I felt the cool April air and saw that the cherry trees were in blossom. It was a great time to be back in Japan.
At the invitation of Browning Product Manager Scott Grange, I was in the country to visit the B.C. Miroku facilities, which manufacture Brown-ing’s Citori and Cynergy over/under shotguns, its BPS pump shotgun and several rifles. One of America’s—indeed the world’s—most respected firearms companies, Browning never has manufactured its own arms. It was John Moses Browning, his son, Val, and others whose designs gave the Browning name such provenance, but with the exception of John Browning’s original Model 1878 single-shot, manufacturing always has been elsewhere under license.
So it came to pass that when Browning was searching for a worthy replacement for the venerable Superposed (John Browning’s last shot-gun, which was finished by Val following John’s death), it came to shores not widely known for manufacturing shotguns: Japan’s.

The Superposed, which had been introduced in 1931, was a complicated shotgun to manufacture, and by the mid-1960s Browning was searching for a gun of equal quality that could be priced within the budget of the ordinary hunter and shooter. So in 1966 Browning began discussions with Miroku about manufacturing this successor.
Officials at Browning admired Miroku’s proven ability to carefully copy others’ designs, preventing the often-lengthy discussions and battles over how a particular firearm should be made. Miroku began by making Browning’s BLR lever rifle and soon followed with other models, including the company’s new Citori over/under.
The first Citoris came off of the line in 1972. They were Miroku-designed guns that had been developed for Charles Daly, although Browning’s engineers had tweaked the trigger and changed the top-pivoting hammers to Superposed-style hammers, which pivot at the bottom. Soon a new version of the Citori emerged using much of the Superposed’s mechanics, an all-new trigger and a simpler forend. (The forend of the Superposed is attached to the barrels, making cleaning more difficult and necessitating more parts to achieve the relatively simple task of containing the ejector hammers and springs and holding the gun together.)
Initially, Browning’s move to Japan drew mixed reviews. Many still held that things Japanese were little more than cheap copies that wouldn’t hold up under extended use. Browning had tried to make a less-expensive over/under in Belgium called the Liège, Fabrique Nationale’s B-26, but it had met with lukewarm acceptance. A shotgun that had caught shooters’ eyes was the BSS side-by-side. Made by Miroku, it had been launched in 1971 and was made until 1988. It was an excellent shotgun and perhaps did a great deal to dissuade the buying public from the notion that Browning had lost its collective mind by moving manufacturing to Japan.

The Miroku manufacturing facilities are located on the island of Shikoku, southeast of Osaka. Because Shikoku is one of the least-visited parts of Japan, English speaking is far less common than in the large cities, but we found ways around that.
Miroku’s 900 employees make sporting arms for Browning and Winchester, do custom woodworking, and manufacture machinery and steering wheels. About 700 work in the main plant in Nankoku City, which is a few miles inland from Kochi City, right on the coast. Other plants are in Seiko, where wood is prepared and shaped for the various arms, and Kahoku, where parts for the Citori, Cynergy, BPS and other guns are made.
The terrain in Nankoku is hilly and covered with verdant green cedars and the lovely cherry trees for which Japan is famous. Topping the highest point of Kochi City is a feudal-era castle from which the view is memorable. Typical of almost all driving in Japan, the roads are crowded with automobiles and trucks, so the relatively short commute from Kochi City to Nankoku takes about 20 minutes in mostly heavy traffic. Many of the businesses have signs in both Japanese and English, some with humorous translations (one of the most notable being for the popular bottled water named “Pocari Sweat”). The Miroku facility lies on the outer edge of Nankoku, surrounded by ricefields. Planting had just been completed when we arrived, but farmers could be seen wading the calf-deep water, cultivating and sowing the last of the seedlings.
The Miroku plant covers six to 10 acres. In addition to the company’s headquarters and office building, there are three structures that house most of the firearms-manufacturing operations. About eight other smaller buildings, some of which house Miroku’s steering-wheel-making operation, complete the complex. Outside is a baseball diamond, where the company team practices and informal lunch-hour games take place. There is no public transportation close to the Miroku plant, so numerous parking areas filled with employees’ cars surround the grounds. Although there is no formal showroom, the meeting room in which we conferred with the Miroku staff can be converted into one should the need arise.
From my previous travels in Japan—when on one occasion I visited the Yamaha trumpet factory in Hamamatsu—I expected Miroku’s facility to be highly mechanized. And although there were ranks of high-tech machines, I found that Miroku, like Beretta, AyA, Connecticut Shotgun Mfg. and others, still relies heavily on fine hand-craftsmanship to ensure quality and proper assembly. There were rows of the latest CNC machines and probably even more advanced machines that cut, mill and shape parts, but careful handwork is still the order of the day when making truly fine guns.
One thing that struck me immediately was that everyone from company President Yoshihiko Miroku to the beginning apprentices wore a uniform complete with cap and name badge. This feeling of company unity is typical of the Japanese, and each employee is bound by the code of honor that is so much a part of the Japanese psyche.
Entering the factory, we saw barrels being hammer forged and then immediately given to the straighteners, who use the centuries-old technique of looking at the shadows cast by a light shining down the bores and then, if necessary, bending the barrels slightly to ensure their trueness. The trued barrels are then assembled into monoblocks with a hydraulic press that ensures that they are properly seated into the blocks. From there the barrels progress to being fluxed, having slivers and rods of solder inserted, and having the ribs wired into position, just as double-gun barrels have been assembled for centuries. Bits of silver solder are placed at strategic points so that when the barrels go through the brazing oven the solder melts, forming everything into a solid whole.
We watched the action parts being assembled as well as the forend irons. It is interesting to note that forend irons are made in two pieces. In Kahoku we saw the individual parts—the radiused portion that contacts the action and the long iron that holds the latch—being made on sophisticated computer-operated machines. Even these steps are labor intensive, as the rough forgings must be carefully positioned in the various fixtures, machined and finally checked with gauges and micrometers to ensure accuracy. All batches of parts carry a paper trail so that if there is a problem, the steps can be retraced to discover the fault.
Once the individual parts are manufactured and the sub-assemblies completed, everything funnels to the finishers in the Nankoku plant. I had seen similar workrooms in the Beretta plant in Gardone, Italy, and elsewhere, where the completed and polished barrels first meet the actions and forends. It is here that the careful mating of these three components determines the ensuing life of the particular shotgun.
I suppose it is unfair to draw the parallel, but compared with the skilled joiners at Beretta and elsewhere, the Japanese work at warp speed yet with great care and precision. During a single eight-hour shift they complete 135 Citoris. Assembling the actions requires skill, experience and training, and the Miroku workers have it all. Through an apprentice program, workers are always being trained and upgraded to replace the 10 to 15 employees who retire annually. As we exited the proofing and testing room, we saw a new apprentice studying a cut-away Citori before actually beginning work on any of its parts.
As mentioned, the stocks and forends are shaped in Seiko and delivered sanded and checkered. Checkering is done by laser and is excellent. However, all checkering is pointed up by skilled workers using hand and power-driven checkering tools. The finishing is done in stages, beginning with staining the stocks with the familiar reddish brown that is endemic to Browning firearms. At each stage, the work is inspected. At one station workers were reapplying stain to even out the color so that all stocks had the same appearance. Although one might think that most Browning stocks are finished with a spray-on lacquer or varnish—and some are—we spent time watching several coats of oil being applied by hand and rubbed to a fine finish. Here again, the intensity of the work was at a fever pitch.
I suspect that the most striking individual we saw was an older worker, probably in his 60s, who was jointing actions to barrels. The speed and expertise he displayed were amazing. Carefully applying the universal red indicator grease in the proper places, he circled the corner of his bench filing and checking, seemingly oblivious to me taking photographs and others looking on. I suspect he epitomized the emblematic Japanese work ethic. If I have a lasting impression of Miroku, it is of the amazing speed with which this man performed his job as well as his attention to detail.
It was interesting to note that even in this age of high-tech machinery, as part of the proofing and final-inspection process, all shotguns are fired for point of impact. Nothing fancy here, just one man wearing a shooting vest with an extra pad resting the shotgun on a pile of sandbags and shooting at a target. Of course the target was state of the art, showing on a computer screen the point of impact and giving percentages and numerical values for the deviation from the exact center. And these weren’t light loads either. Perhaps this guy ought to be nominated for some kind of Iron Man award. Similarly, proofing is done using only a small guard that closes over the breech of the shotgun and firing the gun by hand. In every proofing facility I’ve ever been in, the gun is always held in a fixture that’s enclosed in a case and the gun is fired remotely. I guess Miroku has the utmost confidence in its shotguns, as the approach was casual in comparison.
The engraving salon is staffed with many young employees, mostly women, who either hand-engrave high-grade guns or hand chase the more common rolled engraving. Close by are several rolled-engraving machines, to which a group of young men apply a good deal of muscle to ensure that the stampings are well done. Hardened steel dies are locked into the press, and then the action, barrel or whatever part is to be engraved is locked into a fixture. The workers then apply force with a lever as they move the fixed parts against the die. Several well-muscled young men struggled with the machines while continually checking that the engraving was executed to proper depth and full expanse across the parts.
Bluing is also done at the Nankoku plant. The process is computer controlled using long tanks through which the various components are degreased and then immersed in the hot bluing solution and finally rinsed and plunged into an oil bath to stop the action of the bluing salts. The signature gold-plated triggers are outsourced to a local plater; otherwise virtually everything is done within the three Miroku factories, with parts deliveries timed by need.
When it originally was established, Miroku made harpoon guns for the whaling industry, as one mounted in the courtyard of the plant testifies. From that beginning it has become one of the most important sporting-arms makers in the world.
At our first meeting, President Yoshihiko Miroku emphasized that the company daily tries to live up to its motto: Honesty. After touring two of Miroku’s three facilities, it is apparent that individually and as a whole the employees are making every attempt to do so.

John M. Taylor is a Midwesterner by birth but currently lives in northern Virginia. He began hunting with his late father at age 5, and since then he has hunted and shot worldwide. For the past 30-plus years he has written for most major outdoor publications, and he is the author of two books: The Shotgun Encyclopedia and Shotshells & Ballistics.

Early Miroku Shotguns

BC Miroku was founded in 1893 primarily as a maker of harpoon guns for Japan’s whaling industry. The maritime connection also ran to line-throwing guns used to connect lines between ships as well as to shore for replenishment of supplies, transfer of personnel and rescue in the event of grounding in a storm. Gradually, production shifted to the making of firearms. First came military and maritime flare pistols, and then production branched out to air guns, revolvers and shotguns. Shotgunning, both for hunting and clay-target games, is popular in Japan, although regulations make it difficult to own a firearm. Miroku’s shotguns were sturdy boxlock side-by-sides and over/unders that closely resembled Browning Superposeds, and it was this ability to carefully copy designs that originally drew Browning to Miroku.
During the 1960s and early ’70s, Miroku was connected with the Charles Daly name. In 1963 Miroku was contracted to make shotguns under the Charles Daly name for importers Garcia, Kassner and finally K.B.I. The manufacture of Daly-branded guns ended in 1972, when Miroku became Browning’s exclusive manufacturer. (In 1971 a typhoon battered the island of Shikoku and nearly destroyed the Miroku factory. During the typhoon, all of the company’s records were destroyed, so attempting to determine the date of manufacture of any Miroku Daly gun is impossible.)
After establishing the alliance with Browning, Miroku ceased producing its own guns to concentrate solely on Browning’s needs. Through the years the Browning BLR lever-action rifle, Automatic-5, Citori, Cynergy, BPS, BSS, BT-99, A-Bolt and new X-Bolt rifles as well as Winchester Limited Edition rifles have been made by Miroku.
Similar to the way Fabrique Nationale, in Belgium, produces Browning arms as well as its own line of FN-branded firearms for the European market, Miroku sells shotguns in Europe under its own name. Company officials state that European production is about 2,000 guns a year.
As an aside, at one time there was a rumor that the Winchester 101 over/ under was made by Miroku, but although the 101 outwardly resembled the Browning Superposed and Citori, all 101s were made by Olin Kendosha, in Tochigi, Japan. — J.M.T.