Everybody loves a good story.
Whether it's tales of heroes set once upon a time:
or villainous drama, downfall - and redemption.
Well get comfy, cos' this gun's full of 'it.
The Thompson.
A classic SMG evocative of an entire era:
Favourite of both gangster and GI alike.
So, who exactly was the Thompson designed for?
Why was it co-opted by a rather nefarious lot?
And how did it shed its criminal image?
The early 20th century is defined by great invention: and by war.
New technology changed the battlefield: and in the case of the First World War, brought
a stalemate unlike any other.
John Taliaferro Thompson, officer of the US Army - and small arms specialist - recognised
the need for a new type of weapon.
Earlier emplaced automatic weapons such as the Gatling gun and Maxim machine gun had
already proven their worth as a force multiplier -
and Thompson envisioned a scaled-down version: a one-man 'trench broom' capable of making
a clean sweep of muddy stand-off.
Codenamed the 'Annihilator', its primary attribute was man-portable automatic fire: feeding from
either a 20-round box magazine or a 50 round drum.
Its firing mechanism was based on an existing patent called the 'blish lock' - a mechanically
simple action that relies on friction rather than any more complex means of siphoning cartridge
power.
This did limit the weapon to lower-pressure ammunition - in fact the only service cartridge
suitable was that used in the M1911 handgun - .45 ACP.
Still, 45 calibre is far from anaemic - especially not when served up at 700 rounds per minute.
If Colt was the equalizer - Thompson would tilt the odds.
Unfortunately, his design was finalised just as the war came to a close - his plan to profit
from European conflict foiled by armistice.
The 'Annihilator' had to find a new market - and a more fitting name.
Something less vulgar - yet still evocative of its firepower.
Thompson called it a 'submachine gun'.
It was the first weapon to bear such a moniker - but it wasn't the first that fit the definition.
There were numerous attempts at a hand-held automatic weapon during World War 1 - with
the most successful being the Bergman MP18.
It was used by German troops - but it came too late to make an appreciable difference,
and so this new class of weapon remained unproven - at least for now.
The 1920s were a particularly dynamic decade: an economic and cultural boom - jazz, flappers,
and art deco; let the good times roll!
Spirits were dampened slightly by Prohibition: but in the name of free enterprise, plenty
of rum-runners stepped up to fill America's glass.
With no trenches to clear, the Thompson was marketed as an 'anti-bandit gun' - an escalation
of power over typical police weapons, and a sure deterrent against organised crime.
The trouble was - nothing stopped the gangsters from getting their own.
America had an odd sort of liberty - You couldn't legally buy a drink, but an automatic weapon?
No problem!
And so, far from being associated with justice - the Thompson became a weapon of terror:
50 rounds on tap, and small enough to be concealed in a violin case.
It was a favoured tool of the Mafia - at least for those who could afford it - and one that
came to be associated with criminals like Al Capone and John Dillinger.
The distant chatter of its fire earned it a new nickname: the 'Chicago Typewriter' - and
its deadly report filed frequent feature in the news: most famously in the 'St. Valentine's
Day Massacre', 7 killed in a herald of 70 shots.
Truly it was 'the gun that made the twenties roar'.
Such tales of crime made it to the cinema: and no gangster film was complete without
a shoot-out.
The Thompson with drum magazine fast became an essential fixture, with its recognisable
profile and stubby length a perfect fit for a cinematic frame.
Wielded by cigar-chomping anti-heroes, the Thompson's appearances on screen were far
more glamorous than the gruesome trail of bodies it left in the morgue.
The feel-good decade had come to a close - and the great depression lay ahead.
Prohibition ended in 1933 - after all, it was a largely ineffective measure: and the
moralists had bigger fish to fry.
A year later, the National Firearms Act passed - making it more difficult for criminals to
get their hands on weapons like the Thompson.
It imposed heavy taxes on their purchase, doubling the already expensive price - and
helped pave the way for future gun control.
Also enforced from the same year, The Motion Picture Production Code laid out self-regulating
guidelines for Hollywood: no longer would crime be romanticised, nor would violent shootings
be standard fare.
The action-packed gangster films of the 1930s were snuffed out.
This code would endure until the late 60s, with the more liberal attitude of the era
encouraging a new wave of American cinema - including a revival of crime films: such
as 'Bonnie and Clyde', and the particularly influential 'The Godfather'
The Godfather's success spawned two sequels and similar films such as Scarface and Goodfellas,
and all of these together provide a key source of inspiration for the rise of crime-themed
video games that happened in the wake of Grand Theft Auto.
The well-dressed Mafia were heroes once more - and their tools of the trade back in action.
For those stories set in the authentic era, the Thompson's automatic fire and drum-magazine
remain an essential feature.
The Thompson has an indelible cultural link with early 20th century crime - any movie,
any television show, any game - where there are gangsters, the Thompson isn't far behind.
However, to tell tales of the Thompson in crime is to only tell half the story - after
the roaring 20s and slightly more sombre 30s, the Thompson was to reinvent itself in a rather
different role.
Once again, the world was at war: Europe in turmoil, and the rise of Nazi Germany.
Thompson himself died in 1940 - just prior to America's involvement in the war, sparked
by Japan's surprise attack on Pearl Harbor in late 1941.
However, his weapon had finally managed to fulfil its original purpose as a warfighting
machine, and as the US Army mobilised, they placed massive orders.
It was issued to corporals, sergeants, scouts, tank crews and patrol leaders: with over 1.5
million units manufactured during the war.
Initially, the Thompson's prior association with unsavoury characters hadn't been forgotten:
Some Anti-US propaganda attempted to paint America as a bunch of gun-toting criminals.
Clearly they didn't account for America's romantic view of the villain - and besides,
it didn't take long for the Thompson to forge a more valiant identity.
Wartime pressure led to a few changes to the Thompson design: eventually leading to the
M1 and M1A1 revisions - easing manufacture, and improving suitability for field use - which
in turn gave it a new silhouette.
The iconic drum magazines were spurned by the military - they were heavy, less reliable,
tougher to load and they rattled somewhat when on the move - so instead, 30-round box
magazines were used.
The front grip was replaced with a simpler horizontal hand guard in most military models:
less fragile, and more compatible with a sling.
Its rear sight was swapped for a snag-free design that needed less machining - and could
withstand a few knocks.
It also turned out the Blish Lock was entirely unnecessary - and, with a little re-engineering
the M1 Thompson worked just fine as a straightforward blowback weapon.
And so, as America went to war the Thompson went along - seen in the hands of the Allies
across the Pacific, European and North African theatres.
Its design was mature and problems rare: Altogether, the Thompson was a well-liked, capable SMG
- a little heavy, and ineffective at longer ranges - but it worked, and it looked pretty
good doing it.
As cameras became both more commonplace and more compact, photography was now an important
factor in the documentation of World War 2.
Key moments were captured and given widespread distribution via newspaper - and often seen
in the hands of Allied soldiers: was the Thompson.
It was these images inspired the retelling of war stories in both literature and film.
While the memory was still fresh, most media intended for popular consumption softened
the depiction of war, taking a more virtuous tack that flattered the victors, making heroes
of Allied soldiers.
The bleak death and destruction were muted - instead replaced with plucky defiance and
tales of camaraderie:
It wasn't really until 50 years after the end of the War that more realistic depictions
found success at the box office.
Saving Private Ryan had a grittier, more tragic outlook - an injection of grizzly realism
into the Technicolor heroism of yore.
Its famous Normandy beach landing scene was particularly effective: a soldier's perspective
of the events, bullets zipping overhead and camera-shaking explosions carving craters
in the sand.
The first-person portrayal of war in film was married perfectly to the emerging FPS
genre in games, and a complement of realistic firearms were brought to replace the generic
pistols and rocket launchers seen before.
The Thompson was amongst them, of course - and with its large magazine and fully-automatic
fire, it was a desirable choice - and a satisfying spray and lack of necessary precision makes
it one particularly suited to beginners.
Given that most games put the player in the boots of an American soldier, the Thompson
is a very common starter weapon - and extensively used, at least until it's dropped in favour
of a more exotic enemy weapon.
In the years that followed, the American aspect of the Second World War was milked dry - every
front, every battle - over and over.
And found in the hands of every sergeant, and on the cover of every game: the Thompson
a totem of a new era of unimaginative box art.
With a glut of similar games, a certain weariness set in, forcing publishers to seek the Next
Big Thing - leaving World War 2 (and by association, the Thompson) in the past.
Truthfully, the Thompson was obsolescent even before World War 2 began - so its hopes of
surviving another bout of post-war peace were slim.
America largely replaced the Thompson with the M3 'Grease Gun': a weapon that had none
of the elegance or style of the Thompson - but all of the functionality at a fraction of
the cost.
As wartime orders dried up, manufacturing ceased and assets were sold.
The Thompson's time as a hell-raiser was over.
And so the SMG retired, but you can't really keep a good thing down - and the Thompson
isn't afraid to be seen outside of its conventional roles.
Wherever it goes, it paints a vivid image by its presence alone.
Sometimes it's just a throwback - a cultural nod to its era, or acknowledgement of a game's
World War 2 roots.
Sometimes it's a transplant - thrust into unexpected time, or an alternate history.
An anachronism in action - whether it's gangsters in space, or a post-apocalyptic film noir.
No other firearm evokes an era quite like it.
Part sinner, part saint.
Known by a hundred names,
An incredible gun that spits unbelievable tales
But the most amazing thing -
Is that they're all true.
The Thompson.
Annihilator.
Chicago Typewriter.
Tommy Gun.
Thank you very much for watching - and until next time, farewell.