That was the ultimate betrayal.
Our family had an old officer’s Luger, a war trophy with the name of the officer inscribed on the slide (toggle, actually).
When Uncle Pat died, I tried to lay hands on it. I never could locate it in the estate. It is all I wanted.
I weep for that one, too.
My dad was an avid anti-collector. He wouldn’t own something he didn’t use. He had a nice 1894 25-35 that was damn near 100 years old when he cracked the stock on a rabbits head. He taught me a lot about guns and more about life. I miss him more than any gun. I put him through worse than he ever gave me.