The lack of awl is a bit disappointing. At the end of the day, it's a boutique scout knife.
There was a red swiss type one as well. If anybody wants to see it, just ask. Best wishes. G
How about some KampKing photos? These medium and large KKs sold to dealers for $6/doz. Of course you had to buy 12 dozen minimum. Pretty good profit for the store owner. I included the little mini sized multis too. The pix are from 65 years ago. There was a red swiss type one as well. If anybody wants to see it, just ask. Best wishes. G [ Quoting of attachment images from other messages is not allowed ] [ Quoting of attachment images from other messages is not allowed ] [ Quoting of attachment images from other messages is not allowed ]
[ Quoting of attachment images from other messages is not allowed ] Scene: A factory office in Pennsylvania.Time: October 1942 Three nervous industrial engineers stand with their heads down in an ante-room. They shuffle nervously and don't meet eyes with anyone. A few are smoking. All have bandaged fingers and one has a big white triangle over one ear. "Mister Bondergrift will see you now," says a cute secretary with a band-aid on one thumb. The three shuffle in. Bondergrift sits behind a big mahogany desk smoking a cigar. Both his hands have bandages. "Well, I suppose you all know why you are here." One man clears his throat and says, "Yes sir. We would like to apologize and will clear out our desks and be off the property before lunch, if that's okay with you." Bondergrift blows a smoke ring that looks like it is wearing a bandage and says," You three bozos may have just won the war for the U.S. of A." Three stunned men stare at the plant manager. One stumbles to a chair. "That scroo-up finger ripper of a can-opener you dim wads designed has just reached the attention of the Pentagon. They want to use it as a weapon of war, and WE got the contract." One engineer fishes a slightly blood stained hankie out of his pocket and wipes his brow. "What the military wants to do is make it so supplies of GI C-rations fall into the hands of the enemy. Disabled barge floats up on a beach, supply depot gets 'accidentally' over run, that sort of spiel. All the rations are surplus. Lima beans with ham. Our soldiers won't eat the things. And with the cans are going to be YOUR can-openers on a cheap handle sort of deal. Get it? We have an initial contract for 10 thousand and more if it is successful. " " Naturally they will think that the beans are poison. They will test them, then issue them to their own troops. With the can-openers. Pentagon number boys predict 25,000 casualties within a month. So, you boys get to keep your jobs. You happy? Now get out of here before I change my mind." With apologies to friend Aztec for filching his photo. It spoke to me, somehow. G
Love it!! Outstanding story telling Gary!!(Image removed from quote.)