A Smith & Wesson Beats Four Aces

by Michael Pryor

“Holy Moley!” shouted Greg, as he unclasped his hands from his ears. My ears were feeling it, too—despite the airport-quality ear protection I was wearing. My wrists hurt as well, as I hadn’t shot a handgun like this in some time. The Smith & Wesson .38 Special was still hot five minutes later, simmering the sweat I had smothered onto its bluing.

I don’t know what attracted me to this particular firearm. Perhaps it was the allure of its oversized barrel sitting in front of a six-shot cylinder. Or maybe it was the lacquered wooden grip, which brought back memories of the great debates we held in the schoolyard over aluminum baseball bats versus the traditional wooden ones. But I was hooked on the noise at any rate.

The history of this mighty revolver goes all the way back to 1899, when S&W developed the .38 caliber Military & Police, the predecessor of today’s Model 10. In addition to that new gun, S&W also developed the .38 Smith & Wesson Special cartridge. The popularity of the gun swelled in 1941—upon the United States’ entry into World War II—as Smith & Wesson supplied more than 1.1 million .38 Military & Police revolvers to the Allies. Today’s models range in size and specification from a five- or six-round cylinder and a barrel length between 1 7/8 and 4 inches. But there is only so much aesthetic joy that can be derived from appearances; to really fall in love with this revolver, it must be fired.

Standing 25 feet away from a Gatorade bottle filled with water, I fired off a burst of shots, utilizing the double lever action. Though my aim really wasn’t what it should be, I did manage to hit the bottle, sending it flying off into oblivion.

Popular among the old-school policemen in my area, the .38 is a very menacing weapon. This is the type of weapon that can be utilized for persuasion by our courageous men in law enforcement.

Unloading and field stripping the revolver, I took a look down the barrel. It’s huge.

But my true joy in firing the weapon is the single action. Just the simple motion of pulling back the hammer and listening to it click into place really gives me a sense of satisfaction—not even that I’m necessarily going to fire it.

The cans that we retrieved after firing several boxes of shells were completely disfigured. I really can’t tell if they’re Coke or Pepsi cans, not that it matters, but most of the paint melted off from repeated hits. My first inclination is to examine the entry points, but that’s nothing compared to the damage this revolver does to the exit points, completely ripping them into several jagged pieces as it passes through at more than 1,100 feet per second.

Though its accuracy isn’t as efficient as a semi-automatic pistol, the .38 Special compensates with its charisma and firepower. Just spinning the cylinder scares up old memories of putting down the tailgate on the old truck and firing away until most of the garbage we were supposed to take to the dump had been ruptured and lacerated several times—or until the ammo ran out. Ah, memories.

But for those readers who have not even seen a gun, let alone shot one, this is the gun to try. Though this may not be the Porsche of guns, it has the reliability and ruggedness, tempered with style, to make it the classic Camaro of firearms.