Knives - The meme

Velociman posts a piece about knives he owns. He prefers to label them bra-strap cutters, and I suppose one might cut a bra strap with a knife, but I prefer a more gentle approach.

Regardless, here are my blades. The ones that I claim when the chips are down.



From top to bottom, they are:

1) Buck pocket knife. The ubiquitous gentlemans knife that is always present in the pants pocket. Useful for a variety of functions.

2) Buck fixed blade hunting knife. This one was gifted to me, but is still a wise choice in a fixed blade knife.

3) Olsen Knife Company. This particular blade did journeyman service for me for many years as a belt knife. It was carried mainly when I was a teenager, serving in the Boy Scouts. In those primitive years, we trusted boys to carry knives and after a young man had passed a skills test, he was allowed to carry and use a belt knife. The Boy Scouts have become unbelievably PC, to the point that I learned (as a Scoutmaster) that boys were no longer allowed to carry belt knives. They might hurt someone. I immediately cried "Balderdash" and instituted the older standards within my domain. I also carried this knife in a homemade sheath on my belt. There are very few people closer to being a King than a volunteer Scoutmaster who stands on tradition. Besides, I had a knife and they didn't.

As an aside, in five years of Scoutmaster, all my boys carried knives openly, after they passed THE TEST. No one was ever hurt with a knife. I don't remember a single incident, to include the standard cooking cuts, while my standards were in place. No one was threatened, no one was injured. No one got their feelings hurt. Except of course, the PC crowd, who was reminded that we were all carrying knives and if they wanted some, all they had to do was step up.

4) The king of fighting knives. The Sykes-Fairbairn. Some claim the Kabar is a better fighting knife. They are welcome to their opinion. This particular example is the #2 variant and was issued in 1944 to the uncle of a friend. Uncle was about to jump into a little town in Normandy and the command thought they might need knives. There is blood-rust on the blade. I cannot vouch for the source of the blood. I told my friend I would hold the knife for him and I have been doing so for the past fifteen years. If he claims it, it's his. Otherwise, it will stay in my possession.