In 1899, Smith & Wesson introduced the .38 Military & Police 1st Model Revolver. It first saw service in the Philippine Insurrection in .38 Long Colt, and in the stateside market, it was chambered in .38 Smith & Wesson Special. The .38 Special, as it came to be known, is possibly the most widespread and important handgun cartridge of the 20th Century.
The 1st model was built on the round-butt K-Frame and only locked the cylinder in the rear. The 2nd Model (1902) would add the now-familiar locking lug in front of the ejector rod. The 3rd model (1905) marked the first run on the square-butt frame.
All models had Service Sights, which consist of a tapered front blade and a slightly taller topstrap, in which a channel is cut to act as a rear sight. The Combat Masterpiece (later the Model 15/67) had adjustable target sights.
Back then, Smith & Wesson gave their revolvers neat names, which added to their appeal as elegant machines capable of serious business. Their guns had names like “Registered Magnum,” “.38/44 Outdoorsman,” “Target Masterpiece,” and of course, “.44 Magnum.” In 1958, they decided to make things (questionably) simpler by assigning model numbers (1). Thus the Military & Police became the rather droll Model 10.
Of course, that didn’t blunt is appeal or its popularity. There are millions of these things in service to this day. The Model 10 has been issued to military and police organizations in Brazil, Calgary, Hong Kong, France, Malaysia, and Iran, to name but a few (2). It may be the most ubiquitous handgun of the 20th century, and it’s proven itself a reliable workhorse.
Funny thing that, despite my deep and abiding love of K-Frames, I didn’t have a Model 10 until recently. It may be that I’m a big fan of target sights, and I tend to balk at fixed sights. It could also be that most specimens on the secondary market haven’t been treated very well.
Most show a lack of maintenance or care from their owners, many of whom treated the gun as just another thing to strap on the belt. Some have serious rust issues, while others have been sloppily refinished. More than a few have been subjected to the ravages of cold blue, and many are just discarded in favor of newer, fancier guns.
Still, the gun’s got some clean lines and an undeniable charm. Prices on the secondary market are agreeable, and when this one crossed my path, I couldn’t resist.
It’s a 10-5, produced between 1966 and 1967. It’s got a .265″ hammer and serrated trigger, both of which are vividly case-colored. The barrel is pinned and tapered. It’s easily 95%, with only the faintest hint of a turn-line on the cylinder. It does not appear to have been fired outside the factory, as there was almost no reside on the cylinder face. Bluing is otherwise perfect. It hasn’t been marred with agency markings of any sort, and in all three places the logo appears, it has the classic “lazy ampersand (3)” that Bangor Punta abandoned in the early 1970’s:
My concerns about fixed sights were obviously unfounded, as the first six shots fired prove:
It’s no wonder the Model 10 has seen the longest uninterrupted run of any handgun in history. She’ll be serving me well.
(1) Of course, the numbering system is just as convoluted, if not worse. In some cases (like the 520), the same number was used for more than one model. I had a British friend once explain that most folks there once resisted the conversion of their old currency system to a modern one because it would be “too complex.”
(2) From the Standard Catalog of Smith & Wesson, Jim Supica/Richard Nahas, ISBN 9780896892934. Anyone with an interest in the subject should own this book.
(3) There’s some controversy about exactly when the change took place. Pistols produced as late as 1976 have been found with the fat “&” on both barrels and frames.