The Thompson Submachine Gun Read online

  TOP AND MIDDLE One of the experimental aluminium-bodied Thompsons with plastic stock and fore-end.

  BOTTOM A silenced Thompson. Some were supplied for Special Operations Executive (SOE) use and from experience the author can confirm that they are very quiet indeed.

  These new guns were designated ‘Gun, Submachine, Caliber .45, Thompson M1’. An even simpler variant, the M1A1 model, was devised in late 1942 but differed only in so far as it did away with the floating firing pin and hammer on the breech-block common to the earlier models. It was replaced by a simpler one-piece breech-block and firing pin, further cutting back on production time and cost. The cyclic rate without the Blish lock remained relatively similar, at 700rpm. Most significantly, though, the price of a Thompson had dropped from $225 per gun to $44. As it was, the new gun was only slightly more compact at 32in (81.3cm) and fractionally lighter at 10lb 6oz (4.74kg), a saving of a mere 6oz (170g) over the M1928. A larger-capacity 30-round magazine was also available as well. In a further attempt to cut production time and lighten the guns, early in 1943 Savage produced an aluminium-bodied gun based on the M1928 design. There was considerable logic to this, for aluminium alloy is cheaper than steel, faster and easier to machine, lighter and, if sufficiently thick walled, almost as strong. The use of wood was also believed to be outmoded, for plastic was rapidly becoming the material of the future, for it could be moulded to any shape and was waterproof. Unfortunately, testing showed up a number or potential shortcomings in the aluminium design. The battering given to the rear of the receiver by the recoil spring and buffer deformed the alloy, eventually breaking a large piece of it off. Furthermore, the guns were even heavier than the originals, mainly due to the thickness of the aluminium required to prevent its deformation and the increased weight of the ‘Franzite’ plastic used for the stock. Savage manufactured 40 of these guns, in a mixture of types, most being a direct copy of the M1928, although some were slight hybrids with horizontal fore-ends. Few were serial numbered and at the end of the testing all of the guns were supposedly destroyed. The concept of using alloys and plastics in firearms put Savage light years ahead of other weapons manufacturers, but they were defeated by the poor materials then available.

  BRITAIN ADOPTS THE THOMPSON

  When war broke out in September 1939, no-one, least of all Neville Chamberlain’s government, had even the remotest idea of the enormity of events that would soon unfold. The ‘phoney war’ period was one of gathering forces, stockpiling existing weapons and frantically placing contracts for more. The Bren gun was in service along with the indomitable Lee-Enfield rifle, but the British Army, consistently underfunded in the 1930s, was bereft of light automatic weapons. Conveniently forgetting its earlier summing up of the Thompson as ‘that tatty American gangster gun’ after earlier testing, the Board of Ordnance requested that the government sanction the purchase of ‘as many Thompson machine carbines as possible’. With the election of Winston Churchill as prime minister in 1940, things began to move quickly. Churchill, an ex-soldier and weapons enthusiast, was also significantly a believer in the Thompson, publicly paraphrasing the Time magazine comment that ‘General Thompson’s gun may be, pound for pound, the most devastating weapon devised for war.’ He immediately sanctioned the acquisition of M1928 guns, and the British Purchasing Commission, based in New York, placed the order in February 1940.

  The boxed Thompson kit issued to British units in the early months of the war. (IWM FIR 6362E)

  At first, only 450 were to be supplied, and the subsequent contract did not actually specify a number – Britain needed all the guns it could get. Ordnance inspectors were sent from Britain to check and stamp all export guns destined for Europe, and many guns that remained in the United States but never reached England bear their inspection stamps. They were to be shipped by Savage as fast as possible at $225 apiece, and these guns, finished in commercial blue, were supplied in a transit chest with walnut stocks and two ‘L’ type drum magazines, four box magazines, a webbing sling, 1,000 rounds of ammunition and a cleaning kit. Curiously, the first units to receive the Thompsons were not regular army units, but the men of the highly secret Home Guard Special Units, a small army comprised of professional soldiers and Home Guard men with previous military experience, who together were to become the core of a country-wide resistance in the event of invasion. They had access to a series of specially constructed underground bunkers, cleverly camouflaged in remote areas, in which weapons, food and radio equipment were stockpiled. These units had been formed at the very start of the war, and they received the first deliveries of Thompsons in early spring 1940.

  Winston Churchill believed the Thompson to be vital in aiding British forces win the war. Here, he inspects an M1928 during a tour of invasion defences near Hartlepool, 31 July 1940. (IWM H 2646)

  Exactly how many Thompsons were supplied is unknown, but doubtless some still lie, safely packed and greased, in sealed bunkers secreted in woods dotted around the country. It was not until early 1941 that the first M1928s began to find their way into the army, and to begin with only Commando units were issued with them, as one ex-Commando recounted: ‘We were given a new carbine, the Tommy gun, in, I think April or May 1941. We had all seen them at the pictures, of course, Al Capone and the rest, so we went around talking like Jimmy Cagney for a while. In fact they were very well made, beautiful really. But blimey, they were heavy things.’5 Commando units were selected for early supply because of their need for a compact, fast-firing side-arm that was reliable and hard hitting, and the Thompson fit the bill exactly.

  Seated at the dining table with his wife, a sergeant of the Dorking Home Guard in Surrey, England, gives his Tommy gun a final polish before leaving home to go on parade. (IWM H 5850)

  As the Lend-Lease programme got underway, more and more Thompsons found their way to Britain. By this time, the US government was wholly responsible for the supply of weapons under Lend-Lease, and total British orders for the Thompson stood at 514,000. Despite the depredations of the U-boats on the Atlantic convoys, some supplies of Thompsons continued to reach Britain, but of the guns ordered only 100,000 had arrived by April 1942. However, panic measures to introduce some alternative to the costly Thompson had resulted, by the summer of 1941, in the production of the Sten submachine gun. Unlike the finely machined M1928, with its beautiful finish, the Sten was assembled by unskilled workers from black-painted parts supplied by subcontractors, and cost £2.50 (about £112 or $180 in current values). It was unlovely, crude and dangerous if mishandled, but also serviceable and easy to manufacture and repair. Sten guns became a priority for issue to all European Theatre of Operations (ETO) Commonwealth troops with the exception of the Commando brigades who were mostly supplied with Thompsons – and wanted to keep them. Curiously, despite the availability of the Sten, Thompsons continued to be issued to Home Guard units. For some of these scratch-formed defence groups, the old jokes about taping a butcher’s knife to a broom handle were not so far from the truth, but in reality many units were issued with new Thompsons, albeit initially with no ammunition:

  We had two Thompson guns and several dozen Enfield Pattern 1917 rifles, which were chambered for the [American] .30-calibre ammunition, but we were issued with .303 cartridges which were no use. We had no ammunition at all for the Thompsons though, and were told that in the event of invasion we were to apply to the nearest regular army headquarters for a supply of cartridges. This was daft, because they were 20 miles away, which meant we’d have to fight our way to get there with useless guns in order to get our ammunition! Things got much better later on, though, and we eventually became very well armed indeed; we had something like 20 Thompsons, as well as Browning machine guns, mortars and Enfield rifles. When we were photographed we looked like a regular army unit.6

  During training, a Free-French commando balances precariously on a wire bridge while aiming his Thompson. One hopes he didn’t actually have to try shooting it.

  The available stocks of M192
8s were nowhere near enough, of course, and for propaganda reasons guns were often taken from one unit and passed to another so that suitably aggressive pictures could be taken. Indeed, many home service units were supplied with wooden ‘props’ for propaganda purposes, as the Ministry of Defence knew that all pictures released to the public would be carefully examined by German intelligence staff. Even today, occasionally some wooden Thompsons appear in sale rooms, and are normally described as ‘film prop guns’, but their history is often far more interesting.

  As supplies of the M1928 began to dry up, they were replaced with the more basic M1/M1A1s, and these too began to be issued to line regiments. As a result, a great mix of different models were carried into the war, with old M1928s being used alongside the later M1 guns. In regions where supply was problematic, such as Burma and Madagascar, the early guns often saw service with Commonwealth soldiers right throughout the war. Such was the esteem in which the Thompson was held that the Commando badge, worn on the upper shoulder, featured an M1928.

  It was not only Commonwealth troops, however, who were supplied with the Thompson. During the war the French government-in-exile ordered 6,000 guns for supply to the Free French forces training in Britain. Chinese forces fighting the Japanese were also supplied with thousands of guns (the actual number is unknown), and so popular was it that China began to manufacture their own copies, using the simple M1/M1A1 blowback action. Hundreds of these were to see further service against American soldiers when they were supplied to the Viet Cong during the Vietnam War (1964–73). Huge numbers of M1928A1 and M1A1 models were supplied to the Soviet Army following the German invasion of Russia in 1941, most of which were never issued, the gun proving to be troublesome in the sub-zero conditions of Russian winters. In these regions, the fine tolerances to which the Thompson was made worked against them, for the extreme cold prevented the breech being cocked and caused extractors to shear, problems from which the rough but serviceable Russian PPSh-41 submachine gun did not suffer. Many hundreds of these Thompsons are now appearing on the collectors’ market as Russia slowly sells off some of its vast hoarded stocks of wartime guns. Military production of the Thompson finally ceased in 1944, after 1,387,134 guns had been manufactured.

  Chinese Communist militiamen, photographed in 1945. One carries a matchlock wall gun of 18th century design, the other a Chinese-made Thompson M1928A1. (Cody Images)

  5 Sergeant Thomas ‘Tommy’ Dales, ex-No. 2 Commando; interview with author

  6 Peter Evans, ex-East Yorkshire Home Guard; interview with author.

  USE

  The weapon of choice for criminals and Commandos

  TERRORISTS AND THOMPSONS

  In many respects, the Thompson was introduced at the most inopportune moment, for with the ending of World War I the countries involved were understandably disinclined to pay for the further development or purchase of new weapons of war. The basic concept of a small, fast-firing light machine gun was good, for nothing like it existed. Most governments, however, believed that the likelihood of another war, specifically fought on the lines of the previous one, was remote. As a result, commercial funding was required to develop and manufacture the Thompson, and so it was to private agencies that the company turned for sales. Unfortunately, the Thompson’s first highly publicized use was to prove near disastrous for the future of the company.

  Ironically, it was because of the financial involvement of Thomas Fortune Ryan that the company suffered a severe setback. Its guns were found in Ireland in the hands of the Irish Republican Army (IRA), the first organization to make large-scale use of the Tommy gun. The IRA of the 1920s was not the organization that it grew to become in the mid 20th century. It was formed from volunteers to fight what they regarded as an oppressive British military force, its cause helped by the controversial and frequently brutal employment of the ‘Black and Tans’ (a violence-prone support force for the Royal Irish Constabulary) throughout the Anglo- Irish War c.1916–21. Irish sympathizers in the USA had been keen to purchase guns for the Republican cause, the first two Thompson guns reaching Ireland by late May 1921 prior to the outbreak of the Irish Civil War 1922–23. These were smuggled in by two former US Army officers, who demonstrated them to the IRA commanders and were then employed to teach other volunteers how to use them. The first combat use of the Thompson in history was on the afternoon of 16 June 1921, when a train loaded with soldiers of the West Kent Regiment passed an IRA ambush site at Drumcondra near Dublin. A dozen men lay in wait, two armed with the precious M1921s. Bombs were thrown and one Tommy gun opened up on the train, firing about 60 rounds into the carriages, wounding three soldiers. The other gun jammed due, according to a police statement, to the drum being improperly loaded into the weapon. As with most guerrilla groups, the IRA found weapons in short supply but it had not escaped the notice of two leading IRA activists living in America, Joe McGaritty and Lawrence de Lacey, that Thomas Ryan was a supporting member of Clan-na-Gael, a highly influential pro-Irish Republican organization that worked towards independence for Ireland. While the clan did not overtly support illegal activities, it is fairly certain that senior figures provided covert financial assistance for gun-running. It is highly likely that Ryan fell into this category, for he was also a great friend of Éamon de Valera, one of the most senior Republican figures. It would have been virtually impossible for Auto-Ordnance to have permitted export of their guns to a purchaser without prior knowledge of their eventual destination, and Ryan, his long-term secretary Frank Merkling and Marcellus Thompson must certainly have been aware of the destination of the orders placed in January 1921, for an initial 500 guns with a further option for 1,000 more. This first order was placed by a friend of Merkling, Frank Ochsenreiter, who despite his Germanic surname was an American pro-Republican sympathizer. Ochsenreiter had a link to an export company in New York run by another pro-IRA man, Daniel Fitzgerald, whose alias was Frank Williams. Ochsenreiter was allowed a large discount on the order because he was working at the time for a subsidiary company owned by Thomas Ryan. Working with Ochsenreiter was George Rorke, another American with pro-Irish sentiments who had been 38 buying guns on their behalf.

  An impressive cache of Thompsons found in Co. Mayo, Ireland, after a police raid in 1943. Sadly, most of these guns were later destroyed.

  The timing of the order, placed a month before production of the M1921 was due to start, was perfect, for it provided a vital cash injection into the new company. Exactly where the money came from has been disputed over the years, and while undoubtedly a small proportion came from Ireland, the bulk was provided by pro-Irish groups in the United States. De Valera had made a widely publicized tour of the country in 1920, and it is estimated he raised in excess of $5 million (about $60 million in modern terms), so payment for the guns was not a problem. What was a problem for the gun-runners was how to ship their cargo into Dublin, but once again luck and Irish-American sympathizers were able to smooth a path for them. The vessel selected was an old freighter named East Side that sailed out of New Jersey, where a cargo warehouse had been established to store firearms bound for Ireland. Customs procedures were circumvented by ensuring an Irish customs officer ‘inspected’ the first shipment, which was labelled on the manifest as ‘engineer’s stores’. Evading customs was never a problem for the IRA, for a large percentage of the dock workers and customs officials were Irish, and finding supporters for the cause was easy. A stroke of luck for the gun-runners was a providential strike by marine engineers in June 1921, and the vessels affected were desperate to hire any men they could with suitable experience. Seven Irish ‘engineers’ signed on to the East Side, and they loaded the cargo that had already evaded proper customs inspection. It appeared that the IRA were about to become the first organization to be supplied with a large quantity of Thompsons. Unfortunately for the gun-runners, the curiosity of two other crew members was aroused by the number of Irishmen on board and the rapidity with which the customs officer had facilitated the loading. Th
ey secretly opened one of the bundles, and found something that was a little deadlier than spare parts. The captain was informed, and when he attempted to question the ‘engineers’ they had vanished. The guns, of which there turned out to be 495, were surrendered to the New York Police Department (NYPD). As can be imagined, this event stirred up a political hornets’ nest in America, Britain and Ireland. Agents from the US Bureau of Investigation, headed by a young man named J. Edgar Hoover, descended en masse on the vessel, its shipping agency and the Auto-Ordnance premises. There was little difficulty in tracing exactly who had ordered the guns, for the serial numbers had not been erased on all of them – Fitzgerald/Williams and George Rorke were quickly indicted, as were a number of dock workers and customs officials. Most serious for Auto-Ordnance, Frank Merkling and Marcellus Thompson were also heavily implicated. This situation was particularly embarrassing for the Thompson family, because Marcellus’ father-in-law was none other than the US ambassador to Great Britain. There was no real evidence against Thomas Ryan, but the situation was still serious. However, after a number of highly publicized legal hiccups – a prosecuting lawyer was sacked for incompetence, a new jury had to be sworn in, then several other lawyers resigned – the case was finally prepared for trial in 1922. Only then was it realized that the laws passed during World War I forbidding the export of arms to any belligerent countries had actually been repealed in 1921. Thus the export of these guns to Ireland was not, technically, illegal. By now, there was little will on the part of the British government to pursue the matter, as post-war Ireland had, temporarily at least, reverted to its peaceful political ways. The case was abandoned in 1923, but then took on a new twist when the legal representative of the shippers presented a court order to the Bureau of Investigation for the return of the confiscated guns. They were then shipped in several batches to Ireland over a period of time between 1920 and 1930, where they were stored in scattered IRA dumps until such time as they would be required.