No gunmaker has seen a more dramatic evolution of its semiautomatic shotguns than Remington.
Because of its shotgun ammunition plant in Lonoke, Arkansans think of Remington as a local company. Its firearms, however, have been made in Ilion, N.Y., since 1828.
John Browning, an inventor and innovator equal to Thomas Edison, introduced the the first semiautomatic shotgun, the Browning Auto-5, in 1900. Until then, Winchester bought 44 of Browning's patents, but the company balked when Browning insisted on a licensing and royalty arrangement for the Auto-5.
Unable to come to terms, Browning licensed production to Belgium's Fabrique Nationale. In 1911, Remington obtained the license to build the Auto-5 in the United States. Remington named the gun "Model 11" and sold about 850,000 units until 1947.
In 1949, Remington gave the Model 11 some major cosmetic changes and called it the Model 11-48. It kept the recoil operated action, but Remington replaced Browning's trademark humpback receiver with a sleeker, more slender rounded receiver.
Unlike the Auto-5, the 11-48 was also available in 28-gauge and 410-bore models. Another big difference is that its receiver was stamped instead of milled. Stamping is much cheaper, and Remington followed that template on every new model thereafter.
Remington ended production of the 11-48 in 1968, and that's where its synergy with Browning ended.
In 1956, Remington introduced its Model 58, a semiautomatic shotgun whose action was powered by ignition gas instead of recoil. Its magazine cap operated a valve that regulated how much gas the action siphoned. You could turn the cap to a light or heavy load setting.
Remington produced the Model 58 along with the 11-48 until 1963, when the company replaced the Model 58 with the product that made Remington the king of the semiautomatic universe. It was the Model 1100, a gas-operated model that automatically compensated for light and heavy 2 3/4-inch loads.
Curiously, the 1100 designation suggested a hereditary lineage to the Model 11 and 11-48, but the 1100 had nothing in common with either model except appearance. The 1100's lines were smooth and sleek like those of the 11-48, but unlike the 11-48, the 1100 was elegant and beautifully trimmed.
With the Model 11 and Model 11-48, Remington successfully rode Browning's coattails for nearly 75 years. Overnight, the 1100 made the Auto-5 seem obsolete. It looked sexy and modern. Comparatively, the Auto-5 looked blocky and frumpy. Grampa shot Winchester Model 12 pump guns. Dad shot Auto-5s, and their sons shot 1100s.
Aside from appearance, the 1100 was a world apart from the Auto-5. The 1100's felt recoil is noticeably lighter. It swings better than an Auto-5, but an Auto-5 points better, another generational difference. The Auto-5 was designed for an age when upland bird hunting dominated hunting. Upland hunting was dying out when the 1100 appeared. Its attributes are better suited to waterfowl hunting, which was ascendant.
More important, the 1100 is perfect for target shooting. A shotgun's popularity on the trap and skeet fields weighs heavily on its commercial success.
Also, you have to tune an Auto-5 to shoot light or heavy loads by adjusting the piston and ring assembly on the magazine tube. That requires removing the forearm and barrel. The 1100 fires light and heavy loads interchangeably.
The two do have some commonalities, though. In their 12- and 20-gauge configurations, both are chambered for 2 3/4-inch shells. To shoot 3-inch shells, you had to get magnum models. You can tune an Auto-5 Magnum 12 to shoot 2 3/4-inch loads. Not so with the 1100 Magnum. It's a 3-inch gun only.
Remington attempted to correct that deficiency in 1987 when it introduced the 11-87. Cosmetically, it looks identical to an 1100, but it has a gas compensating system that enables you to shoot 2 3/4- and 3-inch loads interchangeably. Like a lot of early one-size-fits-all solutions, however, the 11-87 works better with heavy loads. It might not cycle light 2 3/4-inch target loads at all. That problem was endemic to semiautomatic shotguns until 1998, when Winchester introduced its fantastic Super X2.
Remington made the 11-87 for every possible application. There are target models and tactical models. There are specialty turkey and waterfowl models that have 3 1/2-inch chambers.
Unfortunately, the 11-87's shortcomings were exposed and corrected by Beretta, which unseated Remington for field primacy in the 1990s. All the grandfathers that shot Model 12s had died. Dad got old and quit hunting, or he switched to an 1100. Young people embraced Beretta's swagger, and they didn't come back.
Remington tried to regain its momentum in 2006 with the innovative by short-lived 105CTi, the only semiauto to load and eject from the bottom. It was also the only ambidextrous semiauto. It's a dream to shoot, but it looks weird and has some unreconcilable cosmetic quirks, like a very distracting wavy rib.
Like the 11-87, the 105CTi is a heavy field gun. The shooting media and especially the Internet savaged it for being useless as a target gun. Remington tried to correct its cycling deficiencies with the 105CTi II, but the damage was irreparable.
As with the 1100 in 1963, Remington struck oil in 2010 when it released the Versamax. It's a gas-powered gun that shoots 2 3/4-, 3- and 3 1/2-inch shells interchangeably without a hiccup. It's too front heavy for upland use, but goose hunters love it.
Shortly after, Remington introduced the V3, one of the best all-around autoloaders ever made. Like the Versamax, it regulates cycling by a series of ports that are covered or uncovered depending on the size cartridge you use. Two small gas pistons regulate the amount of gas that pushes back the bolt. It's actually an adaptation of Benelli's ARGO concept.
Unlike every other autoloader, the V3 does not have a recoil spring in the buttstock. You can paddle a boat with it and never have to worry about the recoil spring rusting.
The V3 aced every test it was given, most notably the grueling Argentine dove shooting exercise in which it was shot thousands of times without cleaning. It astonished gun writers because it didn't jam or fail to cycle.
Unfortunately, Remington severely damaged its reputation with false starts, poor quality control and a string of product liability lawsuits.
Consequently, the V3 never got the credit it deserves, and it deserves a lot.