Author: Grumpy
A Word on Firearm Safety

After more than 125 years, the old toggle-top Luger still exerts its pull on some of us.
Addiction takes many forms, and my current addiction is the Luger pistol. This classic handgun goes by several monikers, including P08 (Pistole 08 in German, referring to 1908, when the Imperial German Army formally adopted it), Parabellum (from Latin, “prepare for war”), and, less formally, ‘toggle-top’, a reference to its operating mechanism. However, Luger—named after its Austrian inventor, Georg Luger—is its most common designation.

In all its models and variations, the Luger pistol is arguably the most collected and sought-after handgun in the world. Its nearest competitor is likely the iconic Colt Single Action Army revolver. From the moment I first experienced the feel of a Luger in my hands, I wanted one. Fate being fickle, my dream of ownership wouldn’t be fulfilled for 57 years. That’s one long wait.
As this writer discovered, and as the author of “Valley of the Dolls”, Jacqueline Susann, somewhat notoriously put it, “once is not enough.” In short order, one long-wait Luger became three. Will it end there?
Addiction is not easily cured.
The mystique of the Luger and its addictive qualities are undeniable. A pioneering handgun design introduced in 1898, sleek and ergonomic, German precision, storied combat in two world wars and far beyond, a presence on the silver screen, and the pistol’s many iterations—more than a hundred variations and proofmark configurations over its more than 50-year history. It’s an impressive resume. Not surprisingly, Luger collectors span the globe. Time has only increased its popularity.
As one learns quickly when pursuing the P08, these attributes prove formidable obstacles for those who want to own at least one to shoot without going broke. The pistol’s appeal has driven prices to astronomical levels, with few guarantees of provenance, condition, or shootability. Buying one today isn’t just risky business; it’s often a substantial financial investment and a proverbial shot in the dark.

The Long Journey
My Luger journey began in the fall of 1967 at a gun show in Milwaukee, Wisconsin. My father brought me along to experience the vast array of rifles, handguns, and shotguns on display and to share in his passion for firearms. These were unforgettable experiences for a 14-year-old boy just beginning to learn about guns.
As was his way, Dad took his time at these shows, stopping at almost every booth, chatting with proprietors and acquaintances encountered along the way. Less patient and more focused than my father, I went like a torpedo directly to the displays that sparked my interest.
That particular day, a man had several Lugers on his table, along with German military swords, daggers, Iron Crosses, and a couple of World War II Stalhelm helmets. I was familiar with the pistol from Dad’s Gun Digests, other firearms publications, television, comic books, and toy handguns.
The man in the booth saw something in me, and it wasn’t a potential buyer. He took a Luger out of his display case and carefully handed it to me. “What do you think of that, son?” he asked. I can’t remember my answer, but I’m sure he saw the amazement and pleasure in my eyes. I’ve never forgotten that experience, the feel of that pistol, or the desire to own one.
Like today, Lugers were in demand, expensive, and scarce in our city in 1967. Those for sale in firearms periodicals, at gun shows, and in retail stores often cost more than a new Smith & Wesson or Colt revolver. Dad owned a Luger once, a battered World War II battlefield pick-up that someone chromed over to conceal its disfigurement. With use, the chrome began to peel. Soon after, he swapped it for an old Colt New Service 455 Eley revolver.
Dream Diverted
Scarcity, high prices, my father’s bias, and the wide world of other handguns out there diverted my Luger dream for more than five decades. Yet, whenever a P08 appeared in a gun store or show, I had to have a look. By then, I began to realize that most of the Lugers for sale were well-used specimens, many with mismatched parts and severe corrosion, particularly in the bores. It didn’t take an expert to see that most of these P08s were in less-than-prime condition.
Over the years, Dad and I befriended numerous fellow shooters. When the subject of Lugers came up, it was seldom positive. Everyone groused about prices. Then there were complaints about jams and parts breaking. I never heard one owner say the broken part was replaced and the pistol restored to functionality. One of Dad’s coworkers had a smart 1941 BYF-marked Mauser P08 that he hinted might be available for trade, but Dad was unwilling to part with any of his treasures to consummate a deal.
Fast forward five decades. Dad passed away, and I was then 71 years old. The desire to own ol’ toggle-top still burned bright. If there was a time to fulfill the dream, it was now. Of course, prices had risen to astronomical-plus levels, and quality was even more suspect.
I must have examined over a hundred P08s over the past 57 years. Friends advised me to bite the bullet, buy a “shooter,” meaning a vintage, perhaps cosmetically imperfect, and/or perhaps-less-than-100-percent-original pistol, now priced over $1,000, and take my chances that it would function reliably. (Replacement parts and/or refinishing are not synonymous with a poorly functioning pistol. Many refinished Lugers or those containing replacement parts are fine shooters, giving their owners much pleasure.)

Finding Your Luger
When buying a Luger, particularly one to shoot, the novice has to know about models, variations, condition variables, suitability for the range, and how to price them reasonably.
Gun stores and shows are a starting point, but, as I discovered, to cover the field, one must venture online. Here, the risks climb. Without a physical examination, one must rely on photos from various angles and place less weight on the owner’s claims regarding originality and condition. It’s a daunting experience. One important consideration is determining the seller’s return conditions early on.
Luger genealogy is a fascinating subject in its own right. In summary, German-made P08s are generally categorized by three eras of production for military and civilian sales worldwide: The Imperial Era under Kaiser Wilhelm, from 1900 to the end of World War I in 1918; The Weimar Republic Era, from 1919 to the early 1930s; and the Nazi Era extending to the end of World War II in 1945.
Seven countries and various police services issued the Luger as their official service pistol, with numerous others using it on a limited or unofficial basis.
Over its approximate half-century production run, manufacturing of the time-consuming, expensive pistol passed among German companies Deutsche Waffen und Munitionsfabriken (DWM), the Royal Erfurt and Spandau Arsenals, Simson Company, Mauser G.m.b.H., and Heinrich Krieghoff & Son. Waffenfabrik Bern produced Swiss-made Parabellums for military and civilian use from around 1918 to approximately 1947.
The Luger story didn’t end there.
While German manufacturing ceased, pistols continued to be assembled for a while from captured parts inventories for sale as war souvenirs. The victorious French applied liberated Mauser production machinery to build a small number of P08s for their forces. Russian occupiers and their East German allies utilized captured pistols and those assembled from parts for police issuance and, in limited numbers, for export to other communist countries.
Parabellum parts had a life of their own. They were also sold and assembled into pistols in the United States and elsewhere. The U.S. seemingly couldn’t get enough Parabellums.

Then, in the late 1960s, Mauser took on the Herculean task of recreating the Luger from almost scratch. It succeeded and produced pistols until about 1986, with inventories lasting until the 1990s. Several other manufacturers gave it a go, with varying degrees of design authenticity, including German 22 LR and 380 ACP versions from Erma Werke and the American-made Stoeger Arms Corporation’s 22 LR and Mitchel Arms stainless steel 9mm pistols. Still, they’re all long out of production. There’s little traction today in producing the Luger, except for a few custom, build-to-order makers, including one offering a 45 ACP Parabellum, whose sticker prices are beyond the financial means of most of us.
The Next Steps
Devotees of the Parabellum fall into three categories, with overlap: collectors, investors, and shooters. We pure shooters appear to be in the minority when competing for available pistols. As the aspiring Luger owner soon learns, opinions on what constitutes a shooting Luger are numerous and occasionally heated. Sometimes it’s a kerfuffle between interested parties regarding rarity, monetary value, and the joy of shooting a classic handgun. Understand that the Luger was built for military and police use, not to rest in a gun safe.
A free, must-visit resource for Parabellum aficionados is Lugerforums.com, an online website dedicated to P08 enthusiasts of all levels of knowledge. It’s a treasure trove of information, opinion, and conjecture par excellence. The forum’s helpful members will answer your questions and provide the information, advice, and encouragement you need on all matters, Luger and beyond.
To authenticate a particular Luger’s provenance, authenticity, and condition, you must have basic knowledge, access to accurate (often expensive) reference materials (Lugerforums helps here), and, in the end, disassemble the pistol to examine individual components, particularly the bore, frame, toggle mechanism, and part serial numbers. Heavily worn, corroded, or cracked parts are trouble. If permitted, a range session is the ultimate test for suitability as a shooter.
Like all semi-automatic pistols, the Luger’s reliability is influenced by its magazine and the ammunition used. Even an otherwise reliable-shooting Luger will malfunction with a worn or damaged magazine, a broken internal part, the wrong ammunition (overall cartridge length is a primary concern), or improper magazine loading. In my experience, most vintage Parabellums on the market are offered with non-original magazines. Not a problem; if needed, excellent replacement P08 mags are available from Mec-Gar USA, Inc.
Facing these obstacles, I took a different route. I recalled the aforementioned Interarms Mauser, an authentic rendition of the Swiss 1929 Luger, in 9mm Parabellum and 7.65 Luger chamberings, with 4- and 6-inch barrel options.
While equipped with a grip safety and a straight front gripstrap, compared with the standard German P08’s curved strap and lack of a grip safety on most models, the pistol was manufactured in Obendorf, Germany, not coincidentally the builder of most of Germany’s World War II-era Lugers.
While long out of production, an Internet search revealed that these pistols were still plentiful and affordable, and they enjoyed a good reputation in online reviews.
Success at Last
On the web, I located an unfired 9mm specimen with a 4-inch barrel, complete with its original box, extra magazine, loading tool, barrel brush, owner’s manual, and factory test target, priced less than many vintage P08s I encountered. Photos backed up its condition claims.
I took the plunge and endured a traumatic delivery process that lasted more than two weeks, due to the confluence of the Christmas mail rush and a massive backlog at the city postal warehouse it traveled through. Its package tracker wasn’t functional, further compounding my anxiety.

When the blessed delivery occurred, I couldn’t have been happier with the results. The Interarms Mauser 29/70, as the pistol is sometimes referred to, is all Luger. Take down is typical Luger; the parts are nearly identical (though not interchangeable, I’ve read) to those of older pistols, and the look and feel are 100-percent Parabellum, albeit the Swiss 1929 version.
Mauser clearly took great care and expense to authentically replicate the pistol using modern machinery, with help from original Swiss blueprints, parts drawings, work sheets, original production gauges, and surviving production jigs that, most unfortunately for Mauser, were incompatible with its 1960s manufacturing technology.
The fit and finish of the Mauser Parabellum are typical German—superb. The bluing on my 29/70 is dark and rich, and the straw colors on the trigger, takedown lever, ejector, magazine release button, and thumb safety are vibrant. An attractive American Eagle stamp rests atop the chamber.
Range sessions revealed performance that equaled the pistol’s appearance. True to its predecessors, the P29/70 features small fixed-V rear/pyramid front sights and a trigger that can best be described as challenging.
With the Luger’s complex trigger mechanism, my specimen offers virtually no take-up, an 8-lb. wall, followed by release with scant overtravel. The sights function OK with adequate light, but are useless in low light.
These impediments take some getting used to, but once you master them, you’re rewarded with target-pistol accuracy. Fired offhand at 25 yards, on a good day, my Mauser Parabellum groups in the black with surprising ease. This by a bifocaled septuagenarian with a touch of shake.
Lugers have a reputation for being finicky eaters. The three-shot, sub-1-inch factory test target included with my pistol was achieved with Winchester standard velocity 115-grain FMJ target and practice ammunition. Accordingly, that’s what I use in the P29/70, with complete reliability. I see no need to experiment with other loads.
The pistol’s magazine springs are powerful enough to ensure reliable feeding. Using the loading tool makes the process much easier. Still, thumb strength definitely comes in handy. Proper cartridge stacking in the magazine is critical for reliability.
The toggle mechanism requires strength to rack. Despite the pistol’s beauty, it’s built to shoot. Although my Luger sat unfired for approximately 52 years, there will be periodic range workouts. Its life as a safe queen is over.
Because of the Luger’s tight tolerances and intricate design, it must be kept reasonably clean and lubricated. Despite claims of fragility, a good number of Parabellums remained in active service for many years, reliably.
What is a Classic Luger?
While very well done, to many purists, the Interarms Mauser Parabellum 29/70 doesn’t qualify as a true classic Luger. As author Aaron Davis put it in The Luger Handbook, using an analogy of the classic 1964 Ford Mustang auto compared with today’s version, “…it’s a flattering likeness, but the original stands apart.”
I’m not sure I agree with that appraisal or if it really matters. Based on my experiences, the P29/70 is one fine Luger to own, shoot, and admire.
Now I had everything Luger I needed, but there were nagging urges. The thought of a World War II-vintage, military-issue P08 lurked restlessly in my mind, despite more than half a century of effort and countless disappointments in pursuit of one. More than ever, Luger hunting is fraught with sky-high prices, a limited supply of suitable pistols, questionable quality, and the occasional intentional misrepresentation. On this journey, one ventures forward at one’s own risk.
A Pleasant Surprise
Then the unexpected occurred. As I struggled with Parabellum addiction, there was a complete relapse. I learned of a relative who had a World War II bringback P08, with its issue holster, that his father had liberated from a German officer during the Battle of the Bulge. The price was reasonable, and I bought it post haste.
This WWII capture turned out to be a 1918 Erfurt Imperial pistol, all original and matching except for one period wood-base magazine and one 1930s aluminum-base version.
The Luger was in excellent condition throughout, as was its brown, 1918-dated Lestelmann of Strassburg holster. Loaded in the spare magazine and fit into the holster were five rounds of Czech 1947 9mm ball ammunition—no story on how they got there.

While not my hoped-for World War II-vintage Nazi-era pistol, it’s a beauty. If only old battle pistols could talk. Is it a World War I issue that returned home with its user, then handed over to a son for the new war, or had it been resting in a German arsenal after hostilities ceased, awaiting reissue to Hitler’s Wehrmacht?
After disassembly and a thorough inspection, cleaning, and oiling, the Luger passed its initial range session with flying colors, despite those small sights and an extra-challenging trigger. Based on my relative’s recollection, the pistol hadn’t been fired in over 70 years. I ran a box of Winchester standard-velocity 115-gr. FMJ through it with 100-percent reliability. Accuracy offhand at 25 yards was similar to its 1970s counterpart—outstanding.
Now I was two Lugers rich. Common sense said I had everything needed for a lifetime of Parabellum pleasure. Such was not the case.
Another Luger Appears
Somehow, a collector-grade 1939 Mauser S/42 P08 was offered to me at a collector-grade price. According to its seller, the pistol I’d been seeking for over half a century was in excellent condition, with all matching serial numbers, except for the magazine and grips.
Sticker shock held me back for precisely 24 hours, but remember, I was now an addict. I took a deep breath and dropped the cashier’s check in the mailbox.

When the Luger arrived, it was everything I’d hoped for and more. This pistol was indeed in prime condition throughout, completely reliable at the range and, thanks to a superb trigger pull (for a Luger), as accurate as any target handgun I’d fired. I asked myself: “Is there anything more in life?”
Not yet, but…
I’ve attempted to rank my trio of Parabellums based on looks, accuracy, and historical significance. I can’t. Each is special in its own right, attractive, accurate beyond my capabilities, and as much pleasure to hold and admire as to shoot. There is no favorite. They all provide extraordinary shooting pleasure.
So, here’s where my Luger addiction stands today: I own three fine Parabellums. Perhaps addiction has finally been sated. Perhaps not. An acquaintance recently showed me a handsome 1920s Weimar-era DWM PO8 in 7.65 caliber, with its Safe and Fire safety designations in English. Is it very nice? Yes. Do I need it? No. Is that the end of the story?
I think not.

Bibliography
- Frank C. Barnes, Cartridges Of The World, Gun Digest Media, 5600 W. Grande Market Drive, Appleton, Wisconsin 54913
- Davis, Aarron, The Luger Handbook, Krause Publications, 700 E. State Street, Iola, Wi 54990
- Dixon, Jim, “The Return Of The Krieghoff Luger,” Gun Digest 2011, Krause Publications, 700 E. State Street, Iola, Wi 54990
- Ezell, Edward, Handguns Of The World, Barnes & Noble Books, New York- New York
- Will Fowler, Anthony North, Charles Stronge, And Patrick Sweeney, The Complete World Encyclopedia Of Guns, Hermes House, 88-89 Blackfriars Road, London, England
- Hogg, Ian V., The New Illustrated Encyclopedia Of Firearms, Wellfleet Press, 110 Enterprise Avenue, Secaucus, New Jersey, 07094
- Roberts, Joseph B. Jr., Firearms Assembly, The Nra Guide To Pistols And Revolvers, National Rifle Association Of America, 11250 Waples Mill Road, Fairfax, Virginia 22030
- Stevenson, Jan, “The Parabellum Story,” July 1969 Gunfacts Magazine, Hazard Publications. Available On The Internet At
- Thompson, Leroy, The Swiss Luger, Military Surplus Collector’s Guide 2014, Harris Publications, Inc., 1115 Broadway, Nyc, New York 10010
Angels of Mons WWI – Forgotten History
OUT OF PRINT, BUT ONE HOT NUMBER

The “out-of-print” .256 Winchester is an excellent performer in John’s T/C Contender.
In the early 1960s there was a great deal of interest in long-range, small-bore handgun cartridges. Remington introduced the radical (at the time) XP-100 bolt gun chambered in .221 Fireball. Smith & Wesson contributed the ill-fated .22 Jet, and Marlin brought out a modernized lever-action rifle chambered in .256 Winchester Magnum.
Both of the latter two cartridges were based on the .357 Magnum necked down. The .256 was at least prototyped by Colt — in 1963 they produced a brochure showing four .256 sixguns — a Colt SAA, a Buntline Special and a Python, all priced at $125 each, plus their $89.95 .357 Magnum. I have no idea how many, if any, were actually produced and sold as they simply couldn’t get it to work right; case setback with the cartridge case jamming the cylinder was the problem.
Marlin’s Model 57 .256 Levermatic was a modernized, box-magazine short-throw levergun.
Ruger Hawkeye, Marlin Levermatic
Ruger made the .256 work in their single-shot Hawkeye “revolver.” Instead of a cylinder, Ruger went with a single-shot breechblock fitted to a Blackhawk frame. The cartridge is a good one, however, the Marlin Model 57 Levermatic did not go over well perhaps because it was too modern-looking a departure from the traditional Marlin levergun. The Levermatic was hammerless and designed with a short action and very short lever throw which takes some getting used to for those of us raised on standard (and far smoother) Marlins and Winchesters.
Although the operation of the action is nothing to get excited about, the Levermatic shoots quite well with the .256 — a modernized version of the old .25-20. It was made to be scoped and gives me excellent results for three shots at 50 yards using the Speer 75-gr. JFN over 14 grains of IMR 4227 for just under 2,300 fps and a group of 5/8″. The Hornady 60-gr. JSP over one more grain of the same powder gives the same muzzle velocity and the same accuracy.
John’s preferred powder? Alliant 2400.
John’s Contender Concoctions
Thompson/Center also chambered their Contender in .256. Mine has a 10″ bull barrel and is topped with a Burris 4X LER, my scope of choice. I do not know of anyone offering .256 Winchester brass today, however, I’ve always tried to keep a good supply of all pistol brass on hand and have often purchased brass found at reasonable prices long before I ever had any gun to accept it.
Since the .256 Winchester is based on the .357 Magnum case, I surmise you could make brass from the latter, but I’m guessing cases made thusly would need to be inside necked reamed. Fortunately, I have enough brass so this should never be a problem. Dies are available from RCBS and with the .256 being a bottlenecked case, only a full-length sizing and seating die are required.
My powders of choice for the .256 are the same two I use for most handgun loads — Alliant 2400 and IMR 4227. Hornady, Sierra and Speer all offer .25 caliber bullets in the proper weight range (60-75 grains). Accuracy is excellent with all loads I have used with three shots at 45 yards. They all average under — well under — 1″. Factory loads from Winchester use a 60-gr. JHP that clocks out just under 2,500 fps from the 10″ Contender barrel and places its shots in 7/8″.
My favorite loads include the Hornady 60-gr. JFP over 14.0 grains of 2400 for 2,440 fps. One grain more gives me just over 2,500 fps with both loads grouping 5/8″ for three shots. The most accurate load I’ve found is the Speer 75-gr. FP over 14.0 grains of 2400 (3/8″ at 2,250 fps).
John’s favorite bullets for the .256 Winchester are the Hornady 60-gr.
FP, Speer 75-gr. FPFN and Sierra 75-gr. JHP.
Bottleneck golden oldies: The .256 Winchester (right) is a modernized version of the .25-20.
Missed Opportunities
The plan behind the .256 Winchester was to come up with a 2,500 fps small-bore sixgun load. It was an excellent idea. It’s unfortunate the engineers on the project did not do all the homework necessary to make this cartridge work in a revolver chamber. My friends Gary Reeder and J.D. Jones learned how to make bottlenecked cartridges work in sixguns, so you have to wonder why the original engineers couldn’t figure it out.
The Contender-chambered .256 Winchester is an excellent choice for small game and varmints as is the Marlin Levermatic (which is certainly more powerful than my old Marlin 1894 .25-20). The cartridge itself is quite potent for such work and — combined with its accuracy potential — gives everything needed.
This cartridge should not have died.
Smedley Butler: The Marine Who Earned Two Medals of Honor by Will Dabbs
Major General Smedley Butler collected two Medals of Honor, fought across the globe, battled corruption at home, and later claimed powerful businessmen wanted him at the center of an American coup.

Before Smedley Butler, Let’s Talk About Names
My name is Willis. I might have preferred William, but I didn’t pick it. Mine is a family name. As such things go, it certainly could be worse.
Many famous individuals, particularly actors, often choose a new name if their original names seem insufficiently photogenic. John Wayne entered the world as Marion Robert Morrison. Cary Grant was born Archibald Leach. Michael Caine was Maurice Joseph Micklewhite. Charlie Sheen was Carlos Irwin Estevez. Comedian Jonah Hill was originally Jonah Feldstein. Vin Diesel began life as Mark Sinclair. Diesel changed his name at age seventeen when he became a professional bouncer at a fashionable New York nightclub.
There are countless examples. Famed British actress Helen Mirren was originally Ilyena Lydia Vasilievna Mironov. Olivia Wilde was Olivia Jane Cockburn before she became enamored with the playwright Oscar Wilde. Natalie Portman was Natalie Hershlag, but changed her name in a failed effort at protecting her privacy.
Caryn Elaine Johnson had such a problem with passing gas that her coworkers called her “Whoopi Cushion.” When her show business career began to take off, she adopted Whoopi Goldberg because somebody told her that folks with Jewish-sounding names did better in Hollywood. Apparently, it worked. She’s worth $60 million today.

The point is simply that some names can make surviving Second Grade pretty tough. Despite having been saddled with an objectively awkward moniker, Smedley Darlington Butler went on to do some pretty amazing things.
Butler was one of only two Marines in American history to have been awarded the Medal of Honor twice for two different combat engagements. In 1933, he was also tagged to lead a military coup to overthrow President Franklin Roosevelt. That effort kind of fizzled, but Smedley Butler was nonetheless a simply fascinating guy.
Smedley Butler Before the Legend: A Quaker Goes to War
Smedley Butler was born on 30 July 1881, in West Chester, Pennsylvania. He was the oldest of three sons born to Quaker parents. Butler was an accomplished athlete in High School, serving as captain of his baseball team and quarterback on the gridiron.
He quit school 38 days before his 17th birthday to enlist in the US Marine Corps. His dad was livid, but the young man was terrified he might miss the Spanish-American War. The administrators at his High School had mercy on him and granted him a diploma anyway.

Smedley’s dad served in the US House of Representatives for 31 years. He was chairman of the House Naval Affairs Committee under Presidents Harding and Coolidge. Having your dad managing the Marine Corps budget likely didn’t hurt the young Jarhead’s career prospects.
The younger Butler lied about his age and was granted a direct commission as a Marine officer. He arrived in Cuba just after the war ended. Butler piddled about the Marine Corps for another year but then mustered out. However, with the Philippine-American War now heating up, the young officer turned around and donned his uniform yet again, this time as a First Lieutenant.
From the Philippines to the Boxer Rebellion
Like many true warriors, Smedley Butler did not handle boredom well. When not in action, he drank excessively. He once got drunk and was relieved of command.
However, in October of 1899, Butler led 300 Marines to seize the town of Noveleta in the Philippines. Though he briefly panicked when his First Sergeant was hit, Butler regained his composure and led his Marines to rout the enemy. Once the carnage abated in the Philippines, Butler headed to China to put down the Boxer Rebellion.

During the Battle of Tientsin in the summer of 1900, Lieutenant Butler was shot through the thigh while rescuing a wounded Marine. Despite the grievous nature of his injury, Butler went on to help evacuate several of his troops under fire.
Four enlisted Marines earned the Medal of Honor in this engagement, but Marine officers were, at that time, not eligible for the award. However, Butler was granted the Marine Corps Brevet Medal, which also included a promotion to Captain. He was one of only twenty Marines in the history of the Corps to be so recognized.
Old Gimlet Eye and the Bloody Banana Wars
Having now tasted proper combat, Captain Butler just couldn’t get enough. He fought across Central America and the Caribbean in what has since come to be called the Banana Wars.
Even though Butler and his Marines were protecting American business interests, they still no doubt faced some profoundly fierce combat. Losing Marines in support of the United Fruit Company and similar corporate concerns made a deep and lasting impression.

In 1903, Butler took a detachment of Marines into Trujillo, Honduras, looking for trouble. Their primary mission was to secure the American consulate there. In a subsequent letter home, he said that he and his Marines were “Prepared to land and shoot everybody and everything that was breaking the peace.”
They landed amidst a 55-hour ongoing firefight between rebels and government forces. They found the American consul hiding in the rafters of the consulate, wrapped in an American flag. Once they got clear of the town with the American diplomat in tow, the opposing forces resumed killing each other.

At some point in all this traipsing about the jungle, Smedley Butler contracted a variety of bizarre tropical diseases. While rescuing the American consul, Butler was feverish with something or other and had sunken red eyes.
His men began calling him “Old Gimlet Eye.” A gimlet is either a cocktail made with gin and lime or a small tool designed to bore holes in wood. This was one of several respectful, though unsettling monikers bestowed upon him by his troops.
Vera Cruz and Smedley Butler’s First Medal of Honor
Butler subsequently fought all over South and Central America. He once led his battalion to relieve a besieged city on the island of Grenada while running a 104-degree fever.
In April of 1914, he led his troops in an assault on Vera Cruz, Mexico. The fight roiled across the city and ultimately cost American forces 17 dead and 63 wounded. Along the way, Smedley Butler earned the Medal of Honor.
His citation reads in part, “For distinguished conduct in battle, engagement of Vera Cruz, 22 April 1914. Major Butler was eminent and conspicuous in command of his battalion. He exhibited courage and skill in leading his men through the action of the 22d and in the final occupation of the city.” The rules had obviously been changed by then to allow officers to earn the rarefied decoration.
Haiti and Smedley Butler’s Second Medal of Honor
Six months later, Smedley Butler invaded Haiti. He first arrived in the lawless area around Fort Dipitie with 44 Marines. They were ambushed by a force of 400 indigenous Cacos and, surrounded, fought them off all night long. The following morning, Butler organized an infantry charge that repelled the enemy forces in disarray.

On 17 November 1915, Butler led an ad hoc battalion of Marines and sailors in an infiltration of Fort Rivière. The subsequent combat was hand-to-hand and pitiless. When they took the fort, 50 Haitians were dead, and Smedley Butler had earned his second Medal of Honor.
Here’s the citation: “For extraordinary heroism in action as Commanding Officer of detachments from the 5th, 13th, 23d Companies and the Marine and sailor detachment from the U.S.S. Connecticut, Major Butler led the attack on Fort Rivière, Haiti, 17 November 1915. Following a concentrated drive, several different detachments of Marines gradually closed in on the old French bastion fort to cut off all avenues of retreat for the Cacos. Reaching the fort on the southern side where there was a small opening in the wall, Major Butler gave the signal to attack, and Marines from the 15th Company poured through the breach, engaged the Cacos, took the bastion, and crushed the Cacos resistance.”
World War I Passed Him By, but Smedley Butler Kept Fighting
Butler was not granted a combat command during World War 1. There were several reasons for this, some political and others practical. Along the way, he had developed a reputation for erratic behavior. Butler subsequently came home to command the Marine Corps Base Quantico, Virginia.

From Marine General to Philadelphia’s Crime Fighter
This was a different time. In 1924, W. Freeland Kendrick had been elected mayor of Philadelphia and faced a city awash in Prohibition-driven corruption.
President Calvin Coolidge therefore released General Butler to serve as the city’s Director of Public Safety in charge of both fire and police forces. Butler reassigned his police officers to unfamiliar precincts to upset the inevitable protection rackets he knew to be active.
In his first two days on the job, Butler’s cops raided 900 illegal liquor clubs. He was quoted as having told his officers, “I don’t believe there is a single bandit notch on a policeman’s gun in this city; go out and get some.” I wonder how that might go over today….
The Business Plot: Smedley Butler’s Strangest Battle
Butler eventually retired and became an outspoken critic of war profiteering. In November of 1934, Butler claimed that there was a plot afoot led by prominent American businessmen to field a 500,000-man army of military veterans and march on Washington, depose FDR, and install MG Butler as dictator.
Along the way, Butler named names. The alleged conspirators dismissed the claims as bluff and bluster, but subsequent evidence came to light that lent credence to the plot. Regardless, Butler’s testimony before a House committee drove those behind it back into the shadows. Historians now call this sordid episode the Business Plot.

The Fighting Quaker’s Final Years and Legacy
Major General Butler finally retired to Newton Township, Pennsylvania, with his wife. In 1940, he fell ill and was found to be suffering from what was likely stomach cancer. He had a drinking history, and videos I tracked down in preparing this article sounded like he was a smoker as well.

“The Fighting Quaker,” also known as “Old Gimlet Eye,” succumbed to his disease in June of 1940. He was 58 years old. A real “Break Glass in Case of War” Marine, Smedley Butler was indeed a Leatherneck’s Leatherneck.