by how mild the recoil of a 262-grain bullet traveling at 600 fps feels when fired from a 37-ounce revolver. Light recoil means faster recovery time between shots, a definite plus in short-range fighting. The British may have had something after all, with their affinity for heavy, slow-moving bullets.
Though I tried to approach the range session objectively, with no preconceived notions or expectations, the test results proved somewhat surprising. Perhaps subconsciously I assumed the old Hand Ejectors would deliver better accuracy than they did. Prior to this, the only .45 caliber Smith & Wesson revolver I had tried in the Ransom Rest was my Model 25-2 chambered in .45 ACP. With select loads, that gun will regularly group under 1-1/2 inches at 25 yards. Past experience with the Model 25-2 may have influenced my thinking, creating unrealistic expectations of the vintage Smiths.
I suppose it’s possible that the.455 Mark II service ammunition issued in the First World War might have shot better in one or both of my .455 revolvers than the commercial ammo used in these informal tests. In regard to the Model 1917, limiting the test to a single brand of .45 ACP ball certainly limits the validity of the findings as well. It is not at all unusual for a handgun to shoot admirably with one brand of ammunition and abysmally with another.
Still, the lackluster performance of the three Hand Ejectors prompted a search for information about the handgun accuracy standards of either the British, or U.S. Armies during World War One. Checking the assorted reference material on my bookshelves proved relatively unproductive. Charles Pate’s excellent and very comprehensive book, U.S.Handguns of World War II, contains copies of United States Army specifications for secondary pistols and revolvers used in the Second World War. The accuracy requirements for .38 caliber revolvers, both .38 Special and .38-200, are described in a memorandum dated January 26, 1944. The memo reads: “Revolvers shall be tested for accuracy by firing six shots at a 2-¾ inch bull’s-eye, 15 yards from the muzzle. An arm rest shall be used, and sights held at six o’clock. All the shots shall be in or cutting the bull’s-eye. Full loads shall be used.”
While this circa 1944 memo was helpful, it didn’t address the question of military handgun accuracy standards during the First World War. Failing to find reference to the subject in my resources, I consulted one of the foremost authorities on such matters, firearms historian and author, again Charles Pate. Mr. Pate graciously informed me that in all of his research he had never come across any documentation dealing with World War One military standards of handgun accuracy for either revolvers, or the Model 1911 pistol. I asked him if the U.S. Army had a set of criteria for rejecting Model 1911s. He said they did, but poor accuracy wasn’t one of them.
From all indications, in 1917 the United States Army wasn’t overly concerned about pin-point accuracy from their sidearms. Apparently, if a handgun could reliably place a disabling hit on a man-size target at trench-fighting distances, it was considered acceptable. There is no question that the three World War I-era Hand Ejectors demonstrated that capability. As a point of interest, the official handgun qualification target currently used by many law enforcement agencies is the NRA, TQ-19, man-size silhouette. On the TQ-19 the area of the torso where a hit is considered disabling measures 11-1/2 inches wide, by 15 inches high (not including the neck and head). The kill zone (heart and upper thorax) measures 6-1/2 inches wide by 4 inches high. All three of the Hand Ejectors kept their hits within those parameters. Even though the vintage revolvers might not win any competitive matches, they certainly posses a level of functional accuracy adequate for their intended purpose.
CONCLUSION
These three Smith & Wesson revolvers and their contemporaries are tangible pieces of history, having earned this distinction through stalwart service with British, Canadian and American forces during the first global conflict of the 20th century. Their duties long completed, the guns now quietly reside in my modest collection. Occasionally they are brought out to be admired for the craftsmanship that went into their manufacture, or to be subjects of conjecture over their role in past world events. However, this was the first time in untold years that they have actually been fired. Shooting the old Smiths was both enjoyable and enlightening. The experience also evoked a sense of personal connection with the Allied soldiers who fought, and in too many cases, made the ultimate sacrifice during the Great War.
Their range session finished, the three World War I veterans were packed up to be taken home, given a good cleaning and put away. Most assuredly they will not be forgotten, nor will the generation of young men who carried them. Over nine decades have passed since peace was declared on that first Armistice Day, November 11th, 1918. Virtually all those who fought in the “War to End All Wars” are now gone. But these three revolvers and others like them remain as an unforgotten link to that time and those men.
THE LITTLE
BROWNIE THAT
CHALLENGED
THE WORLD:
The Mossberg Brownie (1919-1932)
BY JACK A. MYERS
HOW THE BROWNIE CAME TO BE
Before the world-wide sales success of its little Brownie pistol launched the O.F. Mossberg & Sons company to its well deserved world-wide recognition, Oscar F. Mossberg had already gained knowledge and experience in the field of gun manufacturing and sales.
Oscar was an industrious young Swede of 22 when he immigrated to America in 1866. And 53 years later, in 1919, he introduced his Brownie pistol, the first and only handgun his small company ever produced. That small company continues today and now holds the distinction of being America’s oldest surviving, family-owned, gunmaking company. In my opinion, the little Brownie is as much an example of the American gunmaker’s art as Sam Colt’s earliest revolver or Oliver Winchester’s first lever action rifle.
A truly unique little pocket pistol, Mossberg’s Brownie was a four-barrel double-action handgun that weighs in at just 10 ozs. and is 4.5 inches overall, with a cluster of four 2.5-inch barrels. A single pull of the trigger cocks and fires the first barrel and on the same stroke revolves the firing pin to the next barrel’s chamber. It is chambered for the .22 Short, Long, or Long Rifle cartridge. Every Brownie left the shop with a small manual extractor rod fitted in a small well behind the left grip. The top of the gun has a very small rectangular opening at top left to accommodate this rod. (Extractor rods are usual missing from the older guns, but new reproduction rods that cannot be distinguished from the originals are readily available on the internet.) Although all of the estimated 33,404 Brownies produced shared the same appearance, with a rich, blued finish and ridged black walnut grips, some were roll stamped with different patent information on the right side of the barrel cluster.
An original Brownie, as drawn by Canadian illustrator Palmer Cox (1840-1924).
Contemporary writers have reported that due to its diminutive size, ease of concealability, and near superiority to other designs available at the time, the Brownie was an attractive and appealing all-purpose handgun. It was named after a similarly-endowed mythical character which was very popular in that era’s literature: the Brownie, a fictitious elfin character created in the late 1800s by Canadian illustrator Palmer Cox (1840-1924). Though perhaps hard to appreciate today, Cox’s Brownies were as popular in late-Victorian America as Smurfs would be a century later, and their name inspired a number of popular consumer products. The very popular Kodak “Brownie” camera is a good example; another is the junior division of the American Girl Scouts, founded in 1912, which added a branch for younger girls in grades two and three called “Brownies” with this explanation: “Our Brownie age level gets its name from folk tales of little brownies that would enter homes
