Small manufacturers turn to military gear
By Amit R. Paley
Washington Post
WASHINGTON — For a half-century, the clangorous machines at American Metal Fabricators have churned out stainless-steel salad bars and rotisserie-chicken display cases for grocery stores and university cafeterias.
Gerald Martineau • Washington Post
Last year, however, the family-owned factory near Chesapeake Bay took on a new mission: vehicle armor for the U.S. military.
"I guess everybody who does war work has got more than they can handle," says James Phillip Poole, president of American Metal Fabricators in Prince Frederick, Md. For nearly 50 years, the company made equipment like food showcases. Now it has been pressed into service making armor for the U.S. military.
To meet the intense demand for equipment in Iraq, the Pentagon increasingly has turned to what it calls "nontraditional" vendors, with little or no defense experience.
The military said it does not keep figures, but Paul Kern, who retired last month as commanding general of Army Materiel Command, estimated it has used thousands of such firms in the past two years.
"I guess everybody who does war work has got more than they can handle," said James Phillip Poole, president of American Metal Fabricators in Prince Frederick, Md., about 40 miles southeast of Washington.
The stakes were particularly high for his 100 employees when they added armor to their regular line of food service equipment in February 2004. Not only did they face a sharply increased workload, they did so knowing that every piece of metal they sliced and welded could make a life-or-death difference. Reports of undersupplied soldiers scrounging for scrap metal to cover their vehicles added to the gravity of the task.
"These people are depending on this to be strong and dependable. I've got to make sure it is," said welder John Credeur, 20.
"It makes me feel like I'm part of something. To see that my hard work is helping our troops, it makes me feel good."
The company, founded by Poole's father in 1946 in his basement, had $10 million in sales last year. It made salad bars, which are shipped to grocery stores, and other food equipment sold to restaurants, university cafeterias and corporate dining halls.
That was before a military supplier asked Poole whether he could also produce 2,000 sets
of steel armor plates to frame 170-pound bulletproof windshields for the Army's Humvees. Workers were excited, though a bit perplexed.
"We were astonished that we got it," foreman Tony Hardesty, 38, said. "We've never done black ironwork before. We were like, man, we're doing Hummers!"
First, they had to figure out how to design the armor. The Army sent no blueprints — just the hulking front of a Humvee, for reference, and formidable technical specifications: The armor, for example, had to be strong enough to hold the windshield onto the Humvee frame even if the vehicle hit an 8-inch curb at 80 mph.
"We were just going completely fresh," said Glen Knott, who spent three 11-hour days on a computer design program to find a way for the company's machines to bend and punch sheets of metal into windshield frames.
Military tests revealed a problem with the initial design: Rounds from an M-14 could pierce the pair of ¥-inch-thick plates of armor between the two panes of the windshield. So Poole added a third sheet.
The military contract created an overwhelming amount of work, coming during an already busy spring. The Pentagon often allowed only six weeks to fill complicated orders, causing some workers to put in 12-hour shifts and to work on weekends.
"We were busy as hell," said Poole, who sometimes woke at 2 a.m. to get the work done.
As they finished the first order, new requests poured in. The firm has produced more than 8,000 sets of armored windshield frames.
It's been easy to get employees to meet the production targets, Poole said. The Patuxent River Naval Air Station is a major economic engine for the region.
"You just feel like you're helping soldiers," Hardesty said.
"You see the pictures of Humvees on TV and we're like, 'We built that!' "
Military jargon and such acronyms as MTVR (Medium Tactical Vehicle Replacement) and LVS (Logistics Vehicle System) fill conversations on the factory floor. Hardesty sometimes wonders how the small company even got involved in the military production in the first place, though he'd be honored to continue.
"I'll keep on building them as long as we go to war," he said.
After last month's Iraq elections, some workers thought the U.S. presence there was coming to a close, ending their role as an improbable part of the war effort.
This month, Poole announced that the military had placed an order for 450 more armored windshield frames.
