My girlfriend's Dad was having a tidy-out,
And found "an old sword".
Asked if I wanted it, or it'd be chucked out.
Turns out that it's a proper Matador sword, for killing bulls!
( Cawl, Wed 2 Sep 2009, 9:46, 3 replies, latest was 16 years ago)

Swords
Gotta love 'em. As you may recall I have several - and then there's the sword in the Edinburgh military museum donated by my grandfather...

I want an antique samurai sword more than I want most things, and I'm a big wanter....


YES, A BIG WANTER.
( Monty Boyce, My cheese game is strong, Wed 2 Sep 2009, 9:51, Reply)

Yeah,
Swords are awesome!
And yes, you are indeed a big wanter.
( Cawl, Wed 2 Sep 2009, 10:07, Reply)

I inherited a cavalry sword and an air rifle
when I say "inherited", I mean "took before my idiot relatives could get their grubby little mits on them".

Does owning a sword and a rifle make me feel like a big man. Yes. Yes it does.
( Colonel Dracula Two manky hookers and a racist dwarf, Wed 2 Sep 2009, 10:12, Reply)

That's the best kind of
"method of inheritance".

I got a green Fedora and a Nazi fencing-sword that way.
( Cawl, Wed 2 Sep 2009, 10:16, Reply)

Nazi fencing sword, eh?
Ever seen those SS ceremonial ones? They're beautiful (in a non-PC way).
( Monty Boyce, My cheese game is strong, Wed 2 Sep 2009, 10:18, Reply)

It's not pretty at all, this one,
It's a Glockenschläger, one of the ones used for getting duelling scars by German officers.
( Cawl, Wed 2 Sep 2009, 10:21, Reply)

the name alone
is FUCKING COOL.
( Monty Boyce, My cheese game is strong, Wed 2 Sep 2009, 10:28, Reply)

We SHOULD have the sword that comes with the Iron Cross
but my great-granny threw it into the Rhine when the Nazis came knocking, as Naughty Jews weren't allowed to have weapons, not even ceremonial swords.

We've even lost the medal, too :(
( Lampito rise with the moon, go to bed with the sun, Wed 2 Sep 2009, 10:32, Reply)

I like that story though,
Damn those Nazis!
( Cawl, Wed 2 Sep 2009, 10:35, Reply)

I love that story. Apparently I look like my great-granny.
She was called Nelly.

I don't think there's any other interesting stories. Great-grandaddy won the Iron Cross for fighting while wounded on the Somme (I think), then got put into a workcamp, got out on a British visa, and got thrown into an alien camp here.

My grandaddy wanted to be a doctor, but his mother told him Israel had too many doctors, so he should become a horticulturist instead, as that was more important.
So he did.
( Lampito rise with the moon, go to bed with the sun, Wed 2 Sep 2009, 10:39, Reply)

That's pretty cool!
I like stories like that.
( Cawl, Wed 2 Sep 2009, 10:50, Reply)

My Great Grandad also
won the Iron Cross in WW1!

We don't have it though :(
(Himjim died a little more inside on, Wed 2 Sep 2009, 10:55, Reply)

Yeah?
How does the whole American thing work into that story then?
( Cawl, Wed 2 Sep 2009, 10:56, Reply)

None of the family are actually American
I was just born over there.
(Himjim died a little more inside on, Wed 2 Sep 2009, 11:03, Reply)

Ah right,
Kinda threw me trying to work that out!
( Cawl, Wed 2 Sep 2009, 11:05, Reply)

Gutted
We have WW1 cavalry spurs, a load of Nazi money looted by my grandfather, various other souvenirs, but possibly my favourite is the silk map of the French/German borders that was sewn into my grandfather's coat when he parachuted into the area, complete with dotted line showing escape route and massive bloodstain from where he was caught upon landing and had his throat slashed before escaping.

Exciting stuff...it is to me, anyhow.
( Monty Boyce, My cheese game is strong, Wed 2 Sep 2009, 10:47, Reply)

That's exciting stuff to anyone!
My Grandad got his face blown up when he was training for the Black Watch.
The instructor was throwing 5-second grenades around them as they were doing an assault course, and there was a 3-second grenade in the box. Killed two guys, mangled my Grandad's face. He spent the war in hospital, growing his skin back.
( Cawl, Wed 2 Sep 2009, 10:52, Reply)

My grandfather was a general by the end of the war
and his father was a general before him.

He was one of the earlier casualties of WW1, apparently the order was given to go forward so he hopped up out of the trench armed with nothing but a swagger cane and was instantly shot to bits - he survived only because at the stage they had very few injured - six months later he'd have been left to die.
( Monty Boyce, My cheese game is strong, Wed 2 Sep 2009, 11:00, Reply)

Sure beats shooting yourself in the foot.
Painful, though.
( Lampito rise with the moon, go to bed with the sun, Wed 2 Sep 2009, 11:11, Reply)

All things considered
I think I'd prefer being shot in the foot.

MUCH prefer.
( The Light in Chains don't touch the Pope's boner, Wed 2 Sep 2009, 11:28, Reply)

i saw a great documentary
the other week about the pioneering plastic surgeon Archibald_McIndoe.

en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Archibald_McIndoe

There were some horrific injuries and even more bizarre fixes, like these 'skin tubes' or Pedicles that the soldiers were grafting on themselves, where they would cut a strip of skin from say their leg, but not cut it completely off, turn it round and attach the other end to another part of their body. Much in the same way a leech might move up your body. Until it got to the place where it was required.

One guy got a new nose from the skin on his arm....as arms have hair, he has to shave his nose every few days.

Much like this handsome fellow


(Cancer Joy was short lived, Wed 2 Sep 2009, 11:28, Reply)

Yeah,
I went to a free exhibition about "Wartime Medicine" at the Wellcome Trust Museum, had a big section about this stuff, really interesting!

They had a huge number of burns victims to hone their skills on, due to the quantities of pilots getting fuel on them.
( Cawl, Wed 2 Sep 2009, 11:41, Reply)