
Many times, the person behind a given firearm can easily overshadow it. In the case of the story of the multi-talented William W. McMillan Jr., it is especially difficult to choose a starting point.
Does one consider just his military competitive shooting, or look to only his Olympic shooting years? It’s safe to say that Bill McMillan fulfilled a litany of incredible accomplishments over his 71 years in both military and civilian roles.
McMillan was never far from the firing line, representing America in six Olympic Games. While he owned many firearms, one unique Colt pistol that brought him special recognition is on display today in the NRA National Firearms Museum in Fairfax, Virginia.
McMillan was born in Frostburg, Maryland in 1929, and went to high school in Turtle Creek, Pennsylvania. Immediately after graduating in 1948, he joined the United States Marine Corps. His competitive shooting began early with a series of matches in the military in 1949 that led to McMillan, quickly recognized as a “natural,” receiving the Distinguished Pistol Shot Badge in 1950.
Possibly part of his personal incentive for doing well with a service pistol was the fact that McMillan had been the only Marine in the barracks not qualified with a pistol at the Brooklyn Navy Yard, and as a result had to walk the only rifle sentry post – a very cold and windy pier.

McMillan (right) as a U.S. Marine Corps first lieutenant, inspecting a rifle with Capt. John Jagoda (left). (Photo courtesy/WWMcmillan.info)
Just nine days after the gold Distinguished Pistol Shot Badge was pinned on McMillan’s uniform, the Korean War began. In 1953, McMillan received his commission as a second lieutenant in the infantry, after shooting slightly bigger guns in Korea – 75-millimeter recoilless rifles — as part of the 7th Marines.
One short year later, McMillan earned the Distinguished Marksman Badge. He was now “double distinguished,” a competitive shooting level of skill with both rifle and pistol that few ever attained. Honing his skill annually wasn’t easy, but he was able to score an unprecedented five Lauchheimer awards for being the combined champion for rifle and pistol shooting for the Marine Corps.
That wasn’t at all the end of his Distinguished Badge quest. In May of 1963, McMillan received Distinguished International Shooter Badge #14. This “triple distinguished” recognition came after McMillan’s achievements at the 1962 International Shooting Union matches in Cairo, Egypt.

McMillan returned to war in Vietnam, finding himself in the thick of the campaign overseas. As an ordnance officer, he received the Bronze Star and spent a year on Okinawa, responsible for the known-distance ranges for Marine qualifications. He retired from active military service as a lieutenant colonel in 1974 and went into law enforcement training work in California and with the Federal Bureau of Investigation.
McMillan’s military service regularly intersected with his extensive international competition. He competed in his first Olympic Games in 1952 and placed seventh in Helsinki, Finland, as one of the six shooters on the American team. In 1956, problems with a jamming gun in the tryouts cost him the chance to rejoin the American team in Melbourne, Australia.

But it was in 1960 in Rome where McMillan really shone. Using a High Standard .22 pistol that is today on exhibit with his Olympic gold medal at the NRA National Sporting Arms Museum in Springfield, Missouri, McMillan posted an eight-point win in a fiercely competitive rapid-fire pistol struggle against Soviet and Finnish rivals. This was one of the two shooting medals the Americans brought home from the Italian Olympics. Notably, McMillan actually took a nap in the middle of the shooting competition while other competitors shot, then calmly went to the firing line and produced the top score against some probably unnerved opponents.
In the 1964 Tokyo Olympics, McMillan’s high score, just one point behind his 1960 win, was only good enough to bring him 12th place. In Mexico in 1968, 17th place was McMillan’s best result, in an Olympics increasingly dominated by foreign shooters. In Munich in 1972 and at Montreal in 1976, McMillan’s scores, while very respectable compared to his showing in the 1960 Games, left him far from the winner’s podium. The 1980 Games would have been McMillan’s seventh Olympic appearance, but the U.S. boycott of the Games ended that string.
While McMillan’s wins overseas in the later Olympics were denied, he was still going very strong in domestic competition. His Colt National Match .45 was the handgun he used to take the National Trophy for Individual Pistol in 1963. Fitted with a set of gold and silver grips from Mexico, these exotic grips are not what one would normally see on a competition pistol.
However, McMillian used the gun regularly in practice as part of the NRA 2600 Club. He was also recognized as a Lifetime Master in Pistol and Outdoor Pistol. In 1979 and 1980, he received honors as part of the NRA National Training Team.
McMillan’s Colt pistol was one of two handguns donated by his son to the NRA, and one that is seen by thousands in the Fairfax galleries annually. Alongside the pistol in the case are his three Distinguished Badges, mounted together as a combined award that celebrates just a fraction of the accomplishments of a most multi-talented shooter, Marine and Olympian, William W. McMillan Jr.
To see McMillan’s Colt National Match .45 and thousands of other unique, historic and significant firearms from across the world and throughout history, visit the NRA National Firearms Museum in person or online!
A S&W Victory in .38 Special





Mementos shown from the Brazilian Expeditionary Force (clockwise from upper l.): a Brazilian army compass; a Colt Government Model, Brazilian 1937 contract; a Smith & Wesson Hand Ejector Model 1917, Brazilian 1937 contract; an Italian Theater “Campaign Medal;” a Brazilian army Long Service Medal; an FEB canvas holster for the S&W Model 1917; metal and cloth FEB shoulder patches; U.S. Army Fifth Army and 4th Corps shoulder patches; and a Brazilian canvas holster for a Colt Government Model pistol.
In the United States, the heroic exploits of the Brazilian Expeditionary Force (Força Expedicionária Brasileira or FEB) during World War II have mostly been forgotten. This was evidenced by the lack of media coverage it received when Jair Bolsonaro, Brazil’s current president, visited Arlington Cemetery on March 19, 2019, to pay his respects. The FEB became a division of the United States Army’s Fifth Army Reserve and fought for 239 consecutive days against the last defending German division in Italy. Fortunately, wartime mementos, such as the handguns used by the FEB, are still attainable. These artifacts have often been collected as contract variants but should instead remind us of the actions and bravery of this mostly forgotten ally of World War II.
Brazil’s entry into World War II as an ally against fascist Germany and Italy was in no way a certainty. In 1937, the president of Brazil, Getúlio Vargas, formed a dictatorial government and considered a cooperative relationship with Nazi Germany. Fortunately, this did not happen, largely due to the diplomatic efforts of U.S. President Franklin Delano Roosevelt. In January 1942, Vargas decided, after negotiations, to accept President Roosevelt’s proposal, and Brazil joined the Allies. A few months later, in August 1942, Brazil declared war on the Axis Powers.
This alliance was a quid pro quo arrangement between the United States and Brazil; the agreement stipulated that Brazil would provide raw materials for the war effort, allow the United States to establish air bases to patrol Brazil’s coastline for German ships and U-boats, and send a Brazilian Expeditionary Force (a division) to fight in Europe. In return, Brazil would receive economic and industrial support from the United States, including a new steel mill, modern military equipment and training for the Brazilian army. Not only did this alliance strengthen Brazil’s armed forces, it also fostered rapid growth of Brazil’s economy and manufacturing capabilities. The steel mill helped Brazil establish a strong automotive, construction and manufacturing base. All these factors were catalysts in Brazil ultimately becoming the dominant nation in South America.
But nearly two years would pass after Brazil’s declaration of war before Brazilian soldiers would depart for Italy in 1944, as Vargas had purposely delayed sending troops to fight in Europe for various political reasons. Even so, the Brazilian army needed time to train for war.
The Brazilian army was formally based on French military doctrine. To become an effective part of the U.S. Army, the FEB needed to be re-trained in U.S. military doctrine, tactics and equipment; this training could not be rushed. Still, the Brazilian public viewed the delay as too lengthy, leading to the sardonic phrase: “E mais fácil uma cobra fumar do que o Brasil ir para a guerra”—“It is more likely for a snake to smoke a pipe than Brazil to go to war.”
The transition for the FEB was not easy. To fight alongside American soldiers, the Brazilians needed to learn how to use modern American equipment and adopt aggressive American fighting techniques, which required precise coordination between units. In essence, the FEB was trained and restructured to become a division of the U.S. Army.
One of the many changes the FEB division needed to incorporate was a company of military police (MP), as the Brazilian army had never used MP units. The FEB commander-in-chief, Gen. João B. Mascarenhas de Moraes, simply assigned a company of 78 police officers from the state of São Paulo’s military police force to serve as the Brazilian army’s first MP unit. Apparently, this was a point of great pride, as the U.S. Army Military Police Corps insignia of crossed Harpers Ferry flintlock pistols was adopted and is still in use by the São Paulo State Military Police.
The FEB was comprised of three infantry regiments, divided into three battalions consisting of four companies each, including supporting units such as artillery, engineering and cavalry (reconnaissance), all under the command of Gen. Mascarenhas de Moraes. The first troops arrived in Naples, Italy, in July 1944. Four other echelons arrived during the following months, totaling 25,334 soldiers. When the troops finally departed for the front, the joke became that the snake had smoked. It became the Brazilians’ motto and their divisional insignia.
Ultimately, the FEB was placed in the U.S. Army 4th Corps attached to the Fifth Army Reserves and fought in the Italian campaign, alongside units of the U.S. 10th Mountain Division. The ensuing battles were a true baptism of fire, including Monte Castello, La Serra, Soprassasso, Montese (the bloodiest FEB battle), Collechio, Massarosa, Camaiore, Mount Prano, Mount Acuto, San Quirico, Gallicano, Barga, Castelnuovo di Vergato, Paravento, Zocca, Marano sul Panaro and Fornovo di Taro. The FEB suffered nearly 500 killed in action and more than 2,000 wounded, while capturing more than 20,000 enemy soldiers.
By the end of the Italian campaign, the FEB had accumulated an impressive battle record; in addition to the medals and decorations given by Brazil, FEB soldiers of all ranks were awarded approximately 130 Bronze Stars, 30 Silver Stars and one Distinguished Service Cross by the United States. Sadly, the Vargas government prohibited the official presentation of the prestigious U.S. Combat Infantry Badge, European-African-Middle Eastern Campaign and World War II Victory medals. When these medals were offered to the soldiers, the Brazilian military wanted only officers to receive them. This socially derived denial of U.S. awards to soldiers below the rank of a commissioned officer was unacceptable to the U.S. government. It would either be all or none, and the Brazilian government chose none, which caused great resentment among the Brazilian veterans.
Prior to World War II, Brazil did not have a domestic firearm industry, leaving the country dependent upon imported arms and munitions to meet its military and police needs. Small arms primarily came from Germany, Belgium and the United States. The transition to domestic firearm production began in 1934 at a factory in the city of Itajubá, Brazil, which began making replacement parts such as barrels and rifle stocks. Not until 1949 were complete rifles manufactured, including Mauser bolt-action rifles. Starting in 1961, M1911A1 pistol clones were made at Itajubá. Prior to World War II, the Brazilian armed forces were primarily equipped with Model 1894 and 1908 Mauser rifles chambered for the 7×57 mm Mauser cartridge, Model 1906 Luger pistols chambered for the .30 Luger cartridge and Colt Government Model pistols chambered in .45 ACP.
When the Brazilian navy began acquiring Colt Government Model pistols in September 1921, it introduced the Brazilian armed forces to American military handguns. This came about when the Brazilian dreadnoughts “Minas Geraes” and “São Paulo” were being retrofitted at the U.S. Brooklyn Navy Yard (1918-1921), and new Colt Government Model pistols were purchased to replace Brazil’s obsolete Model 1883 Nagant revolvers.
The Brazilian army followed suit and began to replace its Luger pistols with 1,000 Colt Government Model pistols in 1932. These were quickly put into use during the Constitutionalist Revolution in the state of São Paulo that same year.
In 1937, the same year Vargas imposed dictatorial rule in Brazil, the Brazilian army contracted for an additional 14,500 Colt Government Model pistols. These Colts had the Brazilian Crest, “EXERCITO BRASILEIRO” (Brazilian army) with a contract number (1-14,500) rollmarked onto the right side of the slide. The pistols were delivered in different lots with the year of delivery (1937, 1938 and 1940) rollmarked under the national crest—1937 being the most common and 1938 the rarest.
Additionally, in 1937, there was a contract for 25,000 S&W Model 1917 revolvers chambered in .45 ACP. These guns also bear a rollmark of the Brazilian crest and “1937” on the right side of the frame. The stocks were the standard commercial, diamond-checkered variant, with a silver S&W medallion. An additional order for 12,000 was delivered in 1946. Revolvers out of this postwar order had plain walnut stocks similar to the U.S. military Model 1917 revolvers.
The approximate serial-number ranges of the Colt- and S&W-contract guns are as follows (examples have been found outside of these ranges):
Colt 1932 order: C154000 to C164000
Colt 1937 order: C188000 to C209000 with Brazilian crest and dated 1937, 1938 and 1940
Smith & Wesson 1937 order: 181983 to 207043
Smith & Wesson 1946 order: guns assembled at Smith & Wesson from available parts. Thus, many guns are mismatched and serial numbers are scattered through 01 to 209878.
Handguns were only issued to Brazilian officers; most got the Colt Government Model, however, a few preferred the S&W revolver. Both were used in combat in Italy. Concurrent with the FEB’s training and reorganization, long guns were issued to the FEB, including U.S. Models 1903/1903A1/1903A3 rifles, M1 carbines, Model 1918A2 Browning Automatic Rifles (BAR), M1A1 Thompsons and M3 “grease gun” submachine guns. M1 Garands were issued in very limited numbers, as the Model 1903 rifle was similar to the Mauser bolt-actions then standard in Brazil. All were supplied by the U.S. government.
At the end of the Italian campaign, Brazil’s commitment was fulfilled. Vargas did not want the FEB to be a part of the occupation force; he wanted it to return home and be disbanded as quickly as possible. He feared the highly trained division, which had helped depose a dictator in Italy, could turn on his own authoritarian government.
The FEB returned to Brazil in three sections, with the last troops arriving in Rio de Janeiro in September 1945. Included in the first section of the returning FEB were U.S. servicemen from all branches of the U.S. armed forces, including soldiers from the 10th Mountain Division. These soldiers acted as U.S. delegates and were part of news stories, parades and celebrations in Brazil.
Vargas’ fears were realized on Oct. 29, 1945, when he was removed from power during a bloodless coup. High-ranking officers (including FEB veterans) demanded Vargas step down; he had lost the support of the armed forces. Although it appears that very few of the U.S. rifles used by the FEB during the war were brought back to Brazil, the handguns did return, as these were Brazilian property.
Today, the Brazilian-contract Colts are very rare, as most remained in Brazil and were exposed to decades of heavy use. Most surviving Colts are still in army storage, making them rare on the collectors’ market. On the other hand, Brazilian-contract Smith & Wessons were sold to exporters in the late 1980s, and about 14,000 ended up on the U.S. surplus market. The S&W revolvers delivered prior to World War II are generally well used with most showing signs of heavy wear; excellent-condition examples are rare. Pre-war Brazilian Colt Government Models are exceedingly rare in any condition. Both the Brazilian Colts and Smith & Wessons have flown “under the radar” of many collectors—as their World War II usage has remained largely unknown—but they are important historical artifacts of our forgotten World War II ally.
(The authors thank: Greg Friedmann, Lt. Col. Julio Cesar Fidalgo Zary, the Brazilian National Agency and the São Paulo State Police Museum.)
I really must of been tired~ NSFW




Akkar started making automotive and gun parts in 1985 in Istanbul, Turkey, and it has been one of the leaders in the current rise of Turkish gunmaking. The company started with pump-action and semi-automatic shotguns, then moved into over-unders and side-by-sides. The latest of the latter is a classically styled bird gun, the Model 512, and it is imported by European American Armory under the Churchill name.
A full line of guns from .410 bore through 12 gauge—all with scaled receivers—is offered, but our sample was a 512 chambered for 3″, 12-ga. shotshells with 28″ barrels. There is a coach gun with extended choke tubes and 18½” barrels offered as well.
Barrel selection is made via a button centrally mounted in the safety on the tang (l.). A brass bead (r., top) is found at the muzzle, and an Anson-style push rod retains the beavertail fore-end (r.).
A boxlock, the Churchill starts off with a nickel-plated steel receiver with graceful lines and a businesslike appearance. The balls that match up to the barrels’ chambers are not rounded at the rear and have been scalloped to save weight and give the gun a more modern look. Adding to that look is a void in the top tang’s lever.
Barrels are cold-blued and sleeved into a monobloc with the joint covered by a thin line of engraving. The design is repeated at the barrels’ rear. Internal diameter was 0.729″ for the right barrel and 0.728″ for the left. The gun comes with five interchangeable choke tubes: skeet, improved cylinder, modified, improved modified and full. Interestingly, the ungrooved, untapered 0.31″-wide top rib is concave on its upper surface and forms a trough with the brass bead near the muzzle at its terminus.
Top locking is by way of a 0.15″-tall, single sliding bolt that retracts when the top lever is pushed to the right. This locks into a 0.702″-long recess in the rear face of the monobloc. Side-to-side locking is provided by the fit of two underlugs into their recesses machined into the receiver, both on the sides and on the top of the receiver’s interior. The front lug’s face rotates on the hinge pin that runs transversely through the receiver’s front.
The trigger is a non-automatic, single-selective mechanical unit, and the blade is gold-plated. Barrel selection is via a button centrally mounted in the safety on the tang, and it could not be simpler, as there is an “L” and an “R” engraved on the tang. The grooved button is proud enough that it is possible to choose the desired barrel—and choke—with minimal fumbling. A red dot on the tang is revealed when the safety is disengaged. The trigger guard is large and round, allowing for gloved fingers.
The EAA Churchill 512 comes with a set of five choke tubes (skeet, improved cylinder, modified, improved modified and full) and a wrench for their installation.
The stock is of straight-grained Turkish walnut with a fairly open pistol grip and a slight palm swell that favors right-handed shooters—and it is slightly cast off as well. There are bordered point-checkering panels on both sides of the wrist and the fore-end. Machine cut, it is fairly well-executed although not terribly aggressive. Topping the butt is a black spacer followed by a fairly thin—0.31″ to 0.45″—rubber recoil pad. Its texture is such that it did not snag on clothing while mounting the gun. The fore-end is of the beavertail style, wide but not cartoonishly so. It is retained by a plain Anson-style push rod at its front.
With the Churchill, you need to remove the shells yourself as there are no ejectors; this is an extractor-only gun. Opening the action presses the extractor’s front against a lug on the receiver that pushes the single extractor to the rear, allowing the shooter to remove either the hulls or live shells.
The Churchill 512 was patterned at 40 yards with Winchester Xpert steel No. 6s and fired at both skeet and sporting clays for function. Of the 450 rounds fired—a mixed bag of 2¾” target loads from Federal, Fiocchi, Remington and Winchester in shot sizes ranging from Nos. 7½ to 9—there were no malfunctions. The gun pointed well, right where two of our evaluators were looking. It swung well, too, especially on fast crossers—there’s nothing like having two barrels out front to help with follow-through.

High marks—especially for a gun in this price class—were given to the stock, which, due to its open and thin-wristed grip, made the gun feel lively in the hands. Even though this is a fixed-breech gun weighing only 6 lbs., 4 ozs., recoil, even during 100-round sessions, did not seem to be punishing. Most empties slid out easily, and we were grateful to simply drop them in the vest pocket rather than play hull hunters at each station.
While not as popular on the target circuit as semi-automatics or over-unders, there is still a simple joy in old-school side-by-sides, be it afield or at the range. And the EAA Churchill is a well-executed and affordable rendition for those willing to give it a try.


Elizabeth McHutcheson was a hearty woman of Scottish descent cursed with a terminal case of wanderlust. She married a ship’s captain named Francis Sinclair and eventually produced six children. Elizabeth moved her family to New Zealand and established a farm. However, her husband and eldest son were later lost at sea along with most of the family’s possessions.

Down but not out, Elizabeth relocated to Canada and then Hawaii with the remains of her family. Once settled in she bought the Hawaiian island of Ni’ihau for $10,000. Ten grand was an astronomical sum in 1864, but it turned out to be a fairly prescient investment.

Ni’ihau is the furthest West and second smallest of the primary Hawaiian Islands. Ownership of the island passed down through the family until 1941 when Elizabeth’s great-grandson Aylmer Robinson maintained possession. Aylmer was a Harvard graduate who spoke fluent Hawaiian. He was a benevolent landlord who lived on nearby Kaua’i. His island was accessible by permission only which was seldom granted. Robinson made weekly visits by boat to check on the native islanders who held him in high esteem.

In 1941 one hundred thirty-six native islanders called Ni’ihau home. Among them were three individuals with Japanese ancestry. Aylmer Robinson administered his idyllic little kingdom free from government interference.

In the buildup to the attack on Pearl Harbor, Japanese naval planners mistakenly assessed Ni’ihau as uninhabited. As a result, they briefed their aviators to divert to Ni’ihau in the event of battle damage preventing return to the carriers. The plan was for downed aircrew to survive on the island until they could be retrieved via submarine.
The Plot Thickens

On the morning of December 7, 1941, Airman First Class Shigenori Nishikaichi launched his A6M2 Zero fighter B11-120 from the carrier Hiryu as part of the second wave. Unlike the first attack that achieved complete tactical and strategic surprise, the second element flew into a hornet’s nest. American fighter resistance was negligible, but the warships anchored at Pearl bristled with antiaircraft guns. .50-caliber, 20mm, 40mm, and 5-inch antiaircraft weapons filled the sky with steel.

Nishikaichi’s Zero was badly damaged during a strafing run on Wheeler Field and limped away trailing smoke. Realizing that there was no way his nimble Zero was going to make it home, Nishikaichi diverted for Ni’ihau. Crash-landing his crippled fighter in a field near a local named Hawila Kaleohano, Nishikaichi was briefly dazed but otherwise unhurt.
The Chemical Formula for Awkward

The arrival of Nishikaichi’s Zero was the biggest event on Ni’ihau in collective memory, and the islanders all came out to gawk. They knew that the relationship between the United States and the Empire of Japan was strained. However, the Hawaiians are a naturally friendly people. Hawila Kaleohano relieved the young aviator of his handgun and personal documents, and the rest of the islanders threw the lad a party.

Only the three islanders with a Japanese nexus spoke Japanese, and the rest of the Ni’ihau inhabitants were unable to communicate with their new guest. For ease of explanation we will refer to these three individuals by their first names—Ishimatsu, Yoshio, and Irene. However, the Japanese pilot was becoming ever more agitated about the loss of his maps, weapon, and mission directives.

The island’s residents caught a report of the attack on a battery-powered radio and confronted the Japanese pilot. Their intent was to send him back with Mr. Robinson when he arrived on his next scheduled visit. Their guest now effectively became their prisoner.

Aylmer Robinson failed to arrive on his appointed day, and this unsettled the islanders. Robinson was typically quite punctual. However, the military had banned boat traffic, so Ni’ihau was effectively isolated.

Petty Officer Nishikaichi was remanded to the home of Yoshio and Irene, two of the islanders with Japanese connections, to be overseen by four volunteer guards. Unbeknownst to the rest of the island’s inhabitants, Yoshio and his wife were re-evaluating their loyalties. All the while the pilot’s classified documents remained in the possession of Hawila Kaleohano, the man who had originally encountered the pilot.
A Cold War Goes Hot

These people were not soldiers, and three of the four guards eventually wandered off. Seeing their opportunity Irene turned her phonograph up to cover the sounds of the ensuing struggle, while her husband and the pilot attacked the remaining guard. In short order the two had the man secured in a warehouse and had retrieved Nishikaichi’s pistol as well as a shotgun.

The two men then proceeded to Kaleohano’s home in search of the attack plans. They arrived during the man’s quality time, so he was serendipitously hidden unseen in his outhouse. When the moment was right Kaleohano fled the privy and ran for his life, shotgun blasts chasing him down the trail. Thusly alerted the islanders retreated to caves, thickets, and distant beaches, unable to believe that these people with whom they had shared the island were now actively firing upon their friend and neighbor.

The pilot and his compatriot then stripped a 7.7mm machinegun and ammo from the plane, unsuccessfully attempted to use the radio to contact the Japanese fleet, and set the Zero alight. They then went to Kaleohano’s home and burned it to the ground in a further effort to destroy Nishikaichi’s classified documents.
It Gets Worse…

Kaleohano, his home conflagrated, kept the Japanese military documents in his possession and took to a boat to row to the nearest nearby island. Not realizing he was gone, Nishikaichi and Toshio press-ganged a local couple named Ben Kanahale and his wife Ella into the hunt for Kaleohano. The pair took Ella hostage to motivate her husband to stay on task.

Ben wasted a little time pretended to search and returned to check on his wife. When Nishikaichi realized he was being deceived he pulled his pistol and threatened to kill everyone in the village. At this provocation Ben Kanahale went full Chuck Norris on the man.
The Gun



For reasons you will find out momentarily, the exact model of the handgun has been lost to history. However, the three most likely candidates are the 8mm Type 14 or Type 94 autoloaders or the Type 26 revolver. Balance of probability suggests that at the beginning of the war in the hands of an elite Japanese Naval Aviator his handgun was likely a Type 14 Nambu.

The Type 14 is a recoil-operated, locked-breech, semiautomatic handgun whose original mechanism dates back to the late 19th century. LTG Kijiro Nambu designed the weapon along with an array of other Japanese military arms. The locked-breech mechanism favors and was likely inspired by that of the Glisenti Model 1910.

The Type 14 debuted in 1925 and fires the relatively anemic bottlenecked 8x22mm round common to all Japanese wartime autoloading handguns. Considerably less powerful than the 7.62x25mm, 9mm Parabellum, and .45ACP rounds used by other combatant nations, the 8mm Nambu was marginal at best. The Type 14 fed from an 8-round box magazine, sported a 4.6-inch barrel and weighed about 2 pounds. About 400,000 copies were produced.

Japanese officers were expected to buy their own handguns, and the Type 14 was a popular souvenir of combat in the Pacific. As the war progressed and B29 attacks strangled the home islands the quality of these weapons declined precipitously. Bill Ruger bought a Type 14 from a returning Marine in 1945 and used it as a basis for his Ruger Standard pistol that eventually morphed into the Mk I, II, III, and IV .22 handguns so common today.
The Climax

Seeing an opportunity, Ben Kanahele and his wife Ella jumped the distracted Japanese pilot and his turncoat buddy. Ella grabbed his gun arm, but Yoshio Hamada peeled her off. Nishikaichi then shot Ben three times, striking him in the upper leg, groin, and abdomen. This turned out to be a grave mistake.

Kanahele was a sheep farmer and a powerful man. Despite his grievous injuries he took hold of the Japanese pilot, lifted him bodily, and threw him headlong into a stone wall. Ben and Ella then fell upon the dazed Japanese aviator with a vengeance. Ella smashed his head with a rock, and Ben cut the man’s throat with his hunting knife. Overcome by events, Nishikaichi’s ally Yoshio shot himself in the head with the shotgun.

Ella Kanahele snatched up the shotgun and pistol and ran for help. Along the way she inadvertently dropped the weapons. The pistol was never recovered, but the shotgun washed up in a flood some five years later.

Yoshio’s widow spent the next 31 months in prison and was released in June of 1944 despite never being formally charged with a crime. Ben Kanahele was evacuated to a nearby island with a hospital and ultimately recovered, being awarded the Medal for Merit and Purple Heart for killing the Japanese pilot in close combat. The remains of Nishikaichi’s Zero are on display at the Pacific Aviation Museum at Pearl Harbor today.
