On Friday, Oct. 10, 2025, at about 7:45 a.m. local time, a massive explosion occurred at the Accurate Energetic Systems (AES) explosives manufacturing site in McEwen, Tennessee, west of Nashville.
Humphreys County Sheriff Chris Davis called the situation “devastating,” confirming that “we do have several people at this time unaccounted for … We do have some that are deceased.” Officials say that casualty figures haven’t been confirmed and that the investigation may take days and involve federal agencies.
AES manufactures and tests explosives for defense and commercial clients. The blast destroyed at least one building, scattered debris across the surrounding area, and shook nearby homes —residents captured the explosion on cameras and reported feeling tremors.
The explosion is part of the risk built into America’s growing reliance on private companies to manufacture its weapons and explosives. Incidents like this have occurred before, sometimes on a much larger scale.
In fact, it’s not even the first explosion at AES in recent years. Hickman County Mayor Jim Bates noted that there was an explosion at the facility back in 2014, which killed one person and injured three more.
The Military’s Dependence on Private Explosives Makers
Since World War II, and especially after the Cold War, the Pentagon has shifted away from running its own munitions factories and instead contracts private companies to make most of its ammunition, explosives, and weapons. That shift gave the military flexibility to expand or cut production as needed, but it also pushed the risks of that work onto local communities.
After decades of consolidation, the number of major U.S. defense contractors dropped from 51 to just five. Those companies—Lockheed Martin, RTX, General Dynamics, Boeing, and Northrop Grumman—now dominate the industry. In 2023, the Defense Department spent more than $440 billion on contracts with defense suppliers, about 1.6% of the nation’s gross domestic product. Roughly half of that spending went toward equipment and supplies.
The Army still operates five government-owned, contractor-run ammunition plants and at least nine related sites. Most of America’s ammunition, propellants, and explosives are made there or by private firms like Accurate Energetic Systems. In May 2024, the Army opened a new production line in Mesquite, Texas, to help meet rising demand for artillery shells.
Those demands are growing again as the U.S. and its allies ramp up production to support wars overseas and American stockpiles are depleted. Federal data show that U.S. defense production has spiked during every major conflict—from Korea and Vietnam to the post-9/11 wars—and the current buildup follows the same pattern. When production rises, so do the risks for the workers and small towns where that work takes place.

Civilian and Local Risks
During wartime, production of munitions and explosives expands rapidly, often under intense deadlines and reduced safety oversight. That increases the chances of accidents—and when they occur, civilians often face the consequences.
Five of the deadliest military munitions incidents in American history include:
- Port Chicago Naval Magazine, California (July 17, 1944): While loading 4,600 tons of ammunition for the Pacific war effort, a catastrophic blast killed 320 people and injured nearly 400. The explosion destroyed the pier and flattened parts of the nearby town.
- Eddystone Ammunition Works, Pennsylvania (April 10, 1917): Just days after the U.S. entered World War I, a shell-loading plant exploded, killing 139 workers—mostly women and teenage girls—and injuring more than 100. Investigators blamed rushed production and improper powder storage.
- T.A. Gillespie Shell Loading Plant, New Jersey (October 4, 1918): Chain detonations during a wartime production surge killed roughly 100 workers and forced 10,000 residents to evacuate as explosions continued for days.
- Hercules Powder Company, Kenvil, New Jersey (September 12, 1940): With U.S. stockpiles expanding on the eve of World War II, a blast at a defense plant killed 51 people, injured dozens more, and devastated nearby neighborhoods.
- Washington Arsenal, Washington, D.C. (June 17, 1864): A Civil War explosion at a Union arsenal killed 21 women—many of them immigrants—packing cartridges for Union forces. President Abraham Lincoln attended their funeral.
Each of these incidents occurred during or immediately before major wars, when munitions output increased faster than safety oversight could keep up. Wartime urgency routinely pushes facilities past capacity, sometimes relying on untrained workers or improvised storage practices that can turn a single spark into a mass-casualty event.

Wartime Pressure and Modern Parallels
Those patterns seen during WWII and the Cold War are resurfacing today.
The war in Ukraine has driven the United States and NATO allies to boost ammunition and explosives production to levels unseen since the Cold War. The Pentagon has poured billions into contracts for artillery shells, missile propellants, and explosive components, relying on smaller private firms such as AES to meet that demand.
Overseas, similar catastrophic incidents have occurred. In Ukraine, munitions depot explosions have repeatedly devastated nearby towns—most notably the 2017 Kalynivka blast, which destroyed more than 60,000 tons of ammunition and forced 24,000 residents to evacuate. In Russia, a 2025 attack by Ukraine led to an explosion near Vladimir which leveled much of a military storage site. In Syria’s Idlib province, a July 2025 weapons-depot explosion killed at least 12 people and injured more than 100.

Each incident shows how the same pressures driving increased production and lackluster storage—tight schedules, aging stockpiles, and wartime needs—continue to endanger both workers and civilians worldwide.
Explosions at munitions sites in the U.S. have repeatedly forced mass evacuations—such as the 2012 Camp Minden blast in Louisiana, which shook homes and displaced hundreds. Several smaller but deadly incidents have occurred at munitions and weapons factories in Arkansas, Missouri and Virginia over the past decade, leaving several civilian workers dead and even more injured.
When these accidents occur, they don’t stay confined to factory grounds. The workers handling the explosives and the families living nearby are the first to face the immediate consequences of a system that depends on the private industry to keep America armed.
The explosion in Tennessee is part of a cycle the United States has repeated for more than a century. Each time national or global demand for weapons rises, production expands faster than oversight can. The risks shift from the battlefield to the factory floor. Today, as the Pentagon leans more heavily on private firms to arm both American forces and allied nations, those dangers are getting closer to home.
Although the exact cause for the explosion is still unknown, the incident in McEwen shows how deeply America’s national security now depends on small communities, where a single accident can quickly become a catastrophe. In a future war, those same towns could face even greater danger—from enemy drones, missiles or sabotage.