I really don't know how bad this could have been, but I had an experience last weekend that I hope never to have again.
Of my current hobbies, the one I take most seriously is high power rifle competition.
I "handload" match-grade ammunition for my rifles, with the intent of producing very accurate cartridges exactly tuned to my competition rifles. I've been doing this for over 15 years.
Occasionally, I make a mistake.
Most frequently, that mistake is forgetting to install a primer in the casing before dropping the carefully measured powder charge. Powder then escapes through the flash hole, makes a mess of the reloading equipment, and is no longer the correct amount. If I seat a bullet without realizing my mistake, the cartridge must be disassembled using a clever little gadget called an inertial bullet puller, or "bullet hammer".
The cartridge is inserted through the aluminum collet, placed bullet first into the hollow plastic hammer, and locked in place by the plastic nut on the left. A yellow foam ear-plug is visible inside the part that gets whacked on something solid. After enough vigorous whacking, the inertia of the bullet pulls it out of the casing.The undamaged bullet and recovered powder are dumped into the pan of my powder scale, checked, and saved.
I've disassembled dozens of my own mistakes, and some made by other reloaders, over the 15 years I've been reloading. All without incident. Until last weekend.
In attempting to fire a load development series of 6mm Remington cartridges I had loaded some time ago, I discovered that I had not resized the cases small enough to chamber in my rifle. Some of them were just snug, others were just impossibly large. The only solutions were to a) burn them or b) disassemble them, resize, and reassemble them. I chose B.
After successfully disassembling about twenty cartridges, I got to the casing on the left. If you look carefully, you can see the little silver primer cup protruding from its pocket. It did not look that way when I installed it in the puller and commenced whacking, but it got that way just before "the event". This picture is staged, after the fact.
What happened next was a little surprising when it happened, and horrifying when I comprehended the implications: the next whack caused the loose primer to slam down into the bottom of its pocket, and ignite.
I heard a "pop", and smelled combustion gases. I realized from the mild pop, that the main propellant charge had not ignited. Knowing that ammunition can sometimes "hang fire", and go off up to a minute after a weak primer ignition, I set the puller in a bucket, and backed away. And waited.
After a minute, I was pretty sure it wasn't going off, so I inspected it, and saw the empty primer pocket. Soon I found the empty, undimpled primer cup on the floor.
I honestly don't know how much damage 35 grains of rifle powder, in a brass cartridge, inside a plastic hammer, would have done, but I'm guessing that it probably would have resulted in a trip to the Emergency Room.
I'm quite glad the primer ignition did NOT light the powder, but it sounds like fodder for a Mythbusters episode.
The MORALS of this story are:
1. Discard casings with loose primer pockets.
2. If a primer goes in too easily, don't add powder. Gently cycle the otherwise empty casing in the decapping die to expell and recycle (reuse) the loose primer. Crush and recycle the brass case.
3. If you have a completed cartridge with a loose primer, don't try to use an inertial puller to disassemble it. (If there's nothing else wrong with it, you can probably safely fire it from its intended gun, and the bolt will hold the primer in place. Gas pressure during firing should expand and seal the primer.)
4. If, like me, you have a cartridge with OTHER problems (i.e., won't fit in the chamber), use a press mounted, collet-type, puller to safely disassemble the round.
Still, I can't help but wonder whether a drop of nail polish might have glued that primer in place, and prevented it from rattling around and igniting... again; it sounds like fodder for a Mythbusters episode. I don't have a polycarbonate shrapnel screen.