Yo ho ho and a bottle of....

..rum.



OK, OK. I know this isn't a weapon, unless you want to kill someone slowly through their liver. Regardless, this is a rum bottle from the 1750's. I found this, in its present state, in a bottom trawl off of Reedy Island Delaware, in the Delaware River. My crew at the time was ready to chuck it back overboard thinking it just an ordinary liquor bottle. I recognized the shape as "old" right away and rescued it from nautical re-internment.

I base the date on bottle shape, a nice exposition of which is presented in the plates between pages 108 and 109 in Robert F. Marx's Shipwrecks in the Americas (I've excerpted a page here without permission from the publisher - I claim "fair use" for the purposes of academic study, but I will gladly take down the image if anyone takes exception) and other sources.


It's not clear if this came from a shipwreck or from some other source, but if it is from a wreck, the above reference offers the Pusey, Captain Good, arriving from Jamaica to Philadelphia and sunk in 1757 off of Reedy Island as a distinct possibility, although there may be dozens of others recorded or non-recorded.

Now here's the really cool bit: the original cork is still down inside the bottle! Maybe pressure pushed it in, or maybe some precolonial boozehound didn't have a corkscrew. Regardless, this is one real piece of history that the Delaware has given up.

It's Fish Knife Friday #7

Here's yet another Fish Knife. I friggin' love these things.

If you are a big tree...

We're a small axe. (Bob Marley)

This little chopper is a hand-forged hatchet/axe that I found in a little antique store in Chesapeake City, Maryland. Less a weapon and more a tool, I just had to purchase this to provide plausible cover for yet another simultaneous purchase. See, the missus and I had been doing holiday shopping in this store, and she had seen these antique miniature oil lamps that she liked. Knowing I'd never get back to the store before Christmas, I ducked back in while she was in the dress shop. I bought the lamp, then bought the axe so as to explain the package I was carrying when she got out of the dress shop. Everybody won!

Light's out, you maggots!

There was a time not long ago when you weren't an American unless you made otherwise useless items into lamps. I hear this tradition is still popular in parts of the South. Anyway, here it is, in all of its glory - the Trench Art lamp:

It's probably of WW2 or Korean War vintage - it's made from an old style mess kit (all metal) including the knife, fork, and spoon, old-style canteen (I think they went plastic by Vietnam), and an old style helmet liner. The power cord is delightfully non-modern and probably hazardous.

I put a black light bulb in there for those times when I need to add that certain ambiance to Flintlock's Arsenal.

Speaking of which, one of these posts I'm going to post a panoramic video of Flintlock's Arsenal, so you can see all of my goodies in situ.

Mail call!

This is sort of a personal item, and I'm posting it 66 years to the day after its original composition. This is a V-mail from World War 2. It was sent from my great grandmother to my (now deceased) grandfather who was stationed somewhere in Australia (and who, you may recall, was a personal hero of mine and my best friend). He gave this to me many years ago, it it was only recently that I actually read it. It is illuminating beyond words, both as a snapshot of life in the U.S. at the time, and as a window into my ancestors and their kin that I never really knew. It reads:

Dear Francis,

Yesterday I sent you another package it will contain 3 packages of pipe tobacco and a pipe, a carton of hard candy (23 packs) and 50 razor blades Gillette. By now you should have that candy and gum and flashlight I sent you. Marie is standing on the chair in back of me every once in while [sic] she gives me polk [sic – poke], she wants to write to you. I guess my last letter will be censored I said I figured those pillow tops came from F.J. was I right? All the corners will soon be cleared all the boys from 16 up must help Uncle Sam whether they like it or not. So you see you have over a yr.[sic – year] start, this year you would be in it anyway. I wish Moe was old enough to go it was put some pep in him. You should see the size of him he wears a size 9 shoe and men’s size pants and he must weigh over 150 lbs. and he’s still lazy. Marie’s is fine, she’s a little cranky at night, but the Dr. said her throat gets dry and that’s what makes her cry. Friday she goes back to see him. He wants to look at his [sic] throat. He will be in the Army soon too. Most of Bayonnes Dr. are gone in service. Tonight is the Navy Mothers Club card party so you will get a package from us right after the card party (I hope) thats [sic] what they say they intend to do with the money. Marie said tell you she is a good girl and hurry home she wants to see you. Well Son, I guess that’s all and I hope God will be good to you and the boys thats [sic] so far away from home. So Long Son. Best of luck and love. Mother and [Father? This is cut off by the photoreduction]. XXXXXX [kisses]

My grandfather lied about his age and joined the service when he was 16, which explains that particular reference. Lots of young men did that in WW2 - not so much these days. Moe and Marie are younger siblings - Marie was the baby (and was closest to my grandfather by all accounts) and Moe was his younger brother. Great-grandmother's feelings about Moe aren't really disguised much in this letter. "F.J." alludes to my grandfather's "friend" in Australia - lot's of back story there but I can't really go into in now even after his death and 66 years.

It's also interesting to see what was happening on the home front - most of the doctors in Bayonne, NJ had been called off to war, and teenage boys weren't loitering on street corners anymore - they too were called upon to serve. The last thing I find interesting is the package containing a flashlight - my grandfather was never more than three feet away from his knife and his flashlight, even as he began to succumb to Alzheimer's in the early 2000's. I must have picked this up from him, becasue I always carry a knife and have numerous flashlights near to hand - always.

You're da bomb!

And so is this:

This is a 50 lb. practice bomb that has had the nose perforated with military escutcheon-shaped cut-outs and cigar rests to form - what else? - an ashtray. A big ashtray. We can tell it was a practice bomb because of the sky-blue paint peeking through the later decorative layers. No danger of "ert" here.

We can tell it's an ashtray because...well, just look at it, dummy. I have in fact used this piece as an ashtray, as I've had it since college. You can only imagine the myriad goodies I've emptied from it in it's day. Hardly military at all, you might imagine. Now my kid likes to put random things in there, which is why when all of my guitar picks went missing, this was the first place I looked. There they were, nestled in amongst the dust bunnies, dead batteries, and cellophane candy wrappers...

A divergance...

As you may know, I initially intended this blog as a one per day/365 day posting of my personal collection of old, interesting, or unusual weapons or weapon-like items.

Explicit in this aim is that I actually own 365 old, interesting, or unusual weapons or weapon-like items. Ah....no.

Implicit in this aim is that I'm either an idiot or incapable of not only counting, but even estimating, what I had in my armory.

But I want to do the one year thing. The missus insists (probably for cash flow reasons) that I not go on an acquisition bender, so I'm going to broaden scope somewhat to include old, interesting, or unusual militaria and other related artifacts.

To this end, I would like to introduce you to Trench Art. One fact of military life is that when not actually training or fighting, soldiers' lives could sometimes be impossibly dull. This fact coupled with access to unorthodox military ephemera and tools leads to Trench Art - the re-appropriation of military "stuff" for artistic purposes. This kind of stuff decorates the studies and dens of veterans everywhere.

To this end, here are a couple of planters made from the shells of 75 mm (7.5 cm) artillery shells.



They are pre-WW1 in manufacture, but may have been fired during the Great War. The base of one is stamped "POLTE MAGDEBURG VIII 1909" with various other armorers' touch marks (stamped 2 digit numbers). Polte was a German munitions manufacturer and Magdeburg was the town in which this particular factory was located. 1909 was the date of manufacture

The other is stamped "PATRONENFABRIK KARLSRUHE IX 1914"with similar touch marks. Again, Patronenfabrik was the manufacturer, Karlsruhe was the town, and 1914 was the date.

The only embellishments to these pieces comprise the riveted on lion's heads and rings - probably scavenged drawer or door pulls and a generous application of gold paint. Sometimes, these flank the door to Flintlock's Arsenal when I can manage to keep two plants alive long enough to put in them. Now is not such a time.