WELCOME

Welcome to the Wittmann Banter. It has been a year or so since I have done any Banter, and for those who like to read my ramblings from time to time, I do apologize. I used to have to do this column by force when I put out my printed catalogs, but since I have gone 100% internet web site, the pressure to do the column is no longer there. And, like most of us, with no prod behind our ass sticking our cheeks, we fall by the wayside every time. Actually, I have always liked writing this stuff as it is a golden opportunity to talk to you, my favorite people, and tell you what I think about a lot of things. As many of you probably know, it is hard to talk to ordinary folks who do not collect as they like to discuss sports, politics, family, church and neighbors. We who are genetically defected with the passion to collect militaria usually don't have much to say about the above things. After all, who wants to talk to someone who doesn't know anything about tanks, the color uniforms worn by the Waffen-SS, whether the WKC factory is still in business or if you think the engraving is good on that SA dagger on the Dot.Com site. I guess that's why we like each other - cause we all have something in common we can talk about that nobody else wants to hear anymore. Am I right?

DOT COM SITES

Speaking of talking to each other, a lot of you are members of the Dagger Dot Com and other sites. It is a chance to instantly communicate with others and this is definitely a good thing. The only thing I do not like about these sites is the unfairness that is built into the system. I see collectors put pictures of stuff they want to buy on the site and then proceed to ask opinions of collectors throughout the world. This, in itself, is surely innocent enough and probably is meant with the best of intentions. It could indeed even be a worthy pursuit or even an attempt to show others what a neat thing you are buying. But, opinions should only be allowed if everyone out there expressing an opinion is indeed an expert on the subject and qualified to render a such a statement. It does not seem right to me when people who don't really know anything about the subject - who use phony names and handles - jump in and render negative comments. Since the collecting community tends to be, in general, a jumpy, suspicious lot, the negativity expressed by one person is usually enough to discourage a potential buyer. In my life experience, it is rare to find two or three people who will 100% agree on anything, let alone hundreds or even thousands of people around the world! While it is true some dealers do need negative exposure if they have a reputation for selling non-authentic things, but on the other hand, I do not think it is fair to subject the merchandise of a recognized, qualified, multi-years-of-experience dealer with the opinions of someone who has been collecting for two weeks, or someone who may have an axe-to-grind against the dealer. By rights, since the dealer has unconditionally guaranteed the authenticity of his product, if there is a doubt, the item should be first purchased, and then submitted for appraisal to two or three other qualified dealers. The selling dealer should also be informed of the pending process thus giving him the right to refuse the sale if he does not agree with it. (A dealer intentionally selling bad stuff will not agree to this giving the buyer his out.) I am not trying to discourage the Dot. com sites, but I think there is another way that is fairer.

OUR WEBSITE AND NEW EMPLOYEES

I have been diligently trying to get our website up to the level of some of the professionally engineered examples I see done by some of the other dealers around the world. We still don't have any zippy graphics or pop-up soldiers that turn and flash Nazi armbands in your face, but we're trying. My son, Dean, is still here on Sundays taking pictures and putting stuff up, and my daughter-in-law Jodie, is still typing my dictated descriptions - and pretty good I might say too! Fred is still here putting up "Sold" signs and arranging my inventory physically so that it is neat and chronologically in line in my vault. (I like to look at my dagger inventory stuffed into the little postal box-like slots early in the morning when no one is looking, as it gives me a certain amount of pride. No matter how long I have been in this hobby/business, I have never lost my appreciation for these artistic, beautiful creations. Even nice Armies and Lufts' still yank my chimes!) Recently, though, I have brought in my son, Robbie, to also help with the website. I have aspirations he will become a "webmaster" someday, but we will see. He seems to really like foolin' with it, so that is half the battle. Already we have be able to get a lot of photos up on the medals, armbands and accouterments sections, whereas these areas were pretty weak in the past.

Also, we are still doing repairs for those who want them, so Brian Mcnerney pops in now and again to take care of the chipped grips, leather re-covering, and dented naval scabbards we get from you guys to fix. Brian is really good at this type of work, so if you have something that could be made a little better, please give us a call. With all of these people, though, I don't mind telling you my beloved cellar is getting a bit cramped. It's even getting hard for my four cats to chase around those popcorn packing nuts that you love to use in the boxes you send to me. In fact, it has gotten so tight here that poor Fred can only work when Robbie isn't here and vice versa. I don't know how my loyal secretary, Debbie, manages to contend with this crowd, let alone instruct them on what to do, but somehow it is still working and there has not been a fist-fight yet. The best way to describe this cellar anymore is to compare it to you being on an overflowing airliner, and when you get up to go to the restroom, the stewardess shoves that damn drink cart into the aisle, right in front of you. To be more period about it, the cellar maybe also could be compared to a U-boat in terms of where do you put everything and how come there are bunks for only half of the crew!

UPCOMING SA BOOK

I am still working on gathering material for my upcoming SA reference book, "Exploring the Dress Daggers and Swords of the German-SA." I am just about ready to really get serious here, as it has been a couple of years now, since I first published my very successful SS reference. There is still time, though, to submit interesting daggers for possible use in the book. I am looking for unusual variations, presentations, personalizations, SA inside information not generally known by the collecting community, SA orders pertaining to daggers, in-wear photographs, etc. If you have something I could use, I would appreciate you letting me know. This is my opportunity to publish another great, tell-all-I-know book about the last of the universally popular daggers, the plentiful SA example. The book will be another large volume similar to the SS book. Since I am on the home stretch now, I hope all with knowledge or contributions will help me with these efforts. The more the collecting community knows about these beautiful edged weapons, the more sought after and the valuable they become.

UPCOMING SCHIFFER DAGGER SERIES

While I am going on about my SA Book, it is also a good time to let you know I am involved with another edged weapons reference series which should truly glamorize the hobby and possibly even propel it into a mainstream collectible. I am talking about a joint effort involving Brian Maederer, Jason Burmeister and myself. We have assembled the best of the extraordinary photography of Charles Jenkins III, to include color photographs of the most desirable of all 3rd Reich edged weapons to have surfaced since the end of the war. In addition, no effort was spared to travel throughout the nation and Europe, seeking photography of the absolute cream of the crop of 3rd Reich edged weapons for this stunning, professionally captioned pictural reference. The series of books will expertly cover photographs of the entire vast subject, with emphasis on the 3rd Reich dagger as a true art form. Look for this series to be available through Schiffer Publishing by this time next year.

HOW'S THE HOBBY DOING?

The hobby is doing better than it ever has - at least that is from my perspective. My business has literally doubled since I have decided to stop printing catalogs and go 100% internet site. My catalogs of the past were great for the subscribers and the edged weapons hobby. Today these catalogs have become a permanent record of this exciting historical hobby pursuit - its subtleties, its popularity and the unprecedented monetary growth it has experienced as a sound investment over the 20 years that I have authored The Wittmann Offering. Honestly, since the time I discontinued the publication of the catalog, I have been able to substantially grow my business and thus increase my place in life - an important thing to me and my family, especially since I am now growing older. When I did the catalogs, I never had any real money, as my working capital was always completely expelled while waiting for the next catalog to come back from the printer. Although it may sound trite, I did in for the hobby and to maintain my prominent position in the hobby.

The business then involved buying multitudes of cheaper as well as expensive artifacts, personally typing up their in-depth descriptions on a word processor, spending days at the photographer's having professional publish-quality photos made, and lastly, not telling anybody what goodies I had, for fear the stuff would get sold-out before the catalog came back from the printers, thus depriving my dedicated subscribers of their right to a "first shot" on the merchandise.

Usually, just after my catalog went to the printer, a major collection would come up for sale, but, of course, I could not buy-it because I had no money - it was all tied up. I'm not saying I was starving - or anything close - but, unless you have a lot of other money stashed (which I didn't as I had an ex-wife to pay, four kids to put through college, and a new honey that was not too sympathetic to my plight), there just was never enough working capital under this system.

Despite the fact that not a day goes by that someone asks, "Why did you stop the catalog? I loved it and don't have a computer. I can't buy from you anymore as I don't know what you have." It hurts me to the quick, but what am I supposed to do? I have seen the results of the internet site, and it works. My potential buying audience is the whole world now. You could never print enough catalogs to send to everybody that now looks at my site. It is a sad problem for my old customers who do not do the computer, I know, but it is a no-brainer for me. Anyhow, thanks to all of those who do now look at my site. I know you are primarily interested in looking at the pictures, but when you have time, take a look at my descriptions too - they have not changed. They still contain the same spot-on observations and authenticity statements and hints you have grown to expect. They are even entertaining to those who like edged weapons!

CONSIGNMENTS

Consignments are bigger than ever at the Wittmann Offering site. If you have the time, there is no better way to dispose of your collection. Sometimes it takes a few months for me to get all of your stuff pictured, described and put up onto my site. But, in the end, you get the best price, because if you have fine things, they are worth the best price. We charge 20% commission, but usually the return you receive on your investment more than covers our fees. We have sold dozens of collections in the last few years. We have made a lot of people very happy with our results. We can do the same for you. If you need the money to pay a bookie for a gambling debt - we are not the ones to help you, unless you want to sell quick. (We buy collections too, but usually you are going to take about a 1/3rd hit on value, as this reflects our normal profit structure when we have to spend our money) But, if you are about to be divorced and the wife just found out about the real value of your collection, maybe we are the ones to help. It is best to fess-up and admit that you didn't buy your stuff at the local yard sale. Try to convince her to wait a few months and we'll get the two of you top money. If you are contemplating retirement in a couple of years, why not consign your collection now, so that the pressure is off. As your collection sells, you can have the fun of figuring your profit from the monthly checks you receive from me. Also, although I hate to mention it, but if someone has passed on - we can tell you what you have, how much it is worth, and buy or consign the collection. You don't have to do anything, as we do all of the work. The reasons for selling a collection will vary greatly, but methods to dispose of it are only two - sell or consign. Unless you bought your stuff many years ago, selling is not the way. Consider consigning your collection and reap the most from your cherished hobby pursuit. Incidentally, I just sold the world famous Hermann Göring Industrial Dagger appearing on the beautiful dust cover of Jim Atwood's 1965 book, for a satisfied customer. Why not consign your collection.......

HOW'S MY HEALTH

Since I was the very first person to ever give a lifetime (mine) guarantee on what I sell - way back in the early 1980s - maybe some of you are wondering how my health is these days. Oh, I know, who wants to hear that crap! I get tired of it, too. Every time I go to a show anymore, all you hear about is everybody's aches and pains, heart attacks, strokes, and who died. It's hard to even get a word in edgewise about Chained SS's anymore with all of these folks going on about their health issues. But anyhow, I'll ask your indulgence for the benefit of those of you who are worried about their guarantees.

The last time I wrote one of these Banter columns, I was having trouble with my enlarged prostate and I tried to give you a blow-by-blow description of reasons why you don't want anything to go wrong with yours. Well things got worse for me, but I am happy to report I am "A number 1" right now, thanks to a new drug called Proscar. It shrinks the prostate in size by about 10%. Since I already told you I am fine, I thought, though, that you might like to hear about some of the things you can look forward to happening to you as your prostrate also grows larger as you get older.

This all started when I took Marie on a nice car trip down to lower Maryland one Saturday, just before the 2004 MAX Show. We traveled to see one of my old collector customers from the Greenbelt Armory Show days of the 1970s. This man and his wife were getting up in years, and I was pleased to have been called in to buy his fine collection. After a delicious lunch of Maryland crab cakes served up by this collector's Mrs. (what else!), Marie and I packed up the collection, and got home before dinner. Having stuck it out the whole two hour car ride, I had to take a leak when we got home. I went into the small powder room off the kitchen and was nonchalantly doing my thing. As I casually looked down, I noticed that the toilet seemed more colorful than usual. After refocusing my eyes I suddenly realized the beautiful red color was not the shade tone of the plumbing vessel I was peeing into, but rather it was the color of the pee that was going into it! A thing like this tends to register slowly on the brain. At first, you sort of think that maybe urine is always this color and you might not have realized it until now - after all, I have been so busy looking at daggers who has time to notice things like this? Then you remember a couple of those horror movies of the past where blood is bubbling up from the sink drain, and you wonder if you are in the theater and simply forgot where you were. But then, the stream stops and the first thing you want to do is flush. After that, as you are kind of slinking out of the bathroom door way, you smell dinner cooking and maybe you better eat something before you say anything - no point in talking about something like this on an empty stomach. Besides, it was just your imagination and it will probably go away anyhow. Well the next time the urge comes upon you, you already know what you saw last time was just a dream, but damn, there comes that "blood red" color again, with emphasis on the blood. Well, now you sort of have to say something, and then, as you feared, she makes the call to that universally popular Urologist character - you know him, as he is the one with the "finger wave" tactics you've experienced in the past. Things are not sounding good on the phone - something about coming into the office for a "Cystoscopy" in a couple of days. Well, at least you have two days to ponder, and maybe by then, it will go away. It does not.

This "Cystoscopy" thing is definitely not something you want to go through. The only thing good about it at all, is after they get you into a darkened office, the young nurse tells you to take off your pants and underwear and she is going to do something to your penis to numb it - sounds kind of good especially since she is not bad looking. But there is just something ominous about the way she grabs your thing that tells you this is not what you remember about your fun days in high school and college. In fact your thing already has gotten a "heads-up" (pardon the pun) about this situation before you knew it, because it is cowardly embarrassing you further by shinking up somewhere, as she can't even find it! After she wins the hide and seek competition, she gives it a squeeze and points that baby straight up and drips something liquid into the end of it. Whatever it was, the pre-drip experience far outweighed the numbing sensation as you are quickly about to find out. In comes the doctor carrying an automobile brake-like adjusting tool having a grip trigger and spring. You think you recognize it from the last Pep Boy's visit. This is when even the bravest among us have to call for their mother - this cannot be happening to indestructible me. There is some muttering professional shop talk going on about how some light inside this garden hose which is now attached to the brake adjusting tool is going to go inside of you so they can see what's bleeding inside. You start believing you are back in mediaeval times and you have become Mel Gibson at the end of the "Brave Heart" movie. They are going to begin pulling your entrails out as soon as they're done with the castration. You yell and scream with the pain, but they continue the disembowelment process. When its finally over, (minutes become days), somehow you have survived, but you now learn the trouble is just beginning. They want to know if YOU can drive to the hospital where they have already called the admissions section. Why not, you figure you're already dead anyhow, what have you got to lose? On the way over, you notice the light gray dress slacks you innocently wore to this massacre are quickly becoming NSDAP red throughout the entire crotch and thigh area. Fortunately an abandoned shopping bag lies in the parking spot; a perfect "shield" for my growing target.

Once checked-in, your life is suddenly passing before your eyes - so, this is how it all ends? Laying in a bed looking out the window at a rusty air conditioner on a puddle-ridden flat roof. But the life ahead is going to be much tougher than the easy quick death you are imagining. Next come blood tests and IV's jammed into your arm - naturally they can't find the vein the first time. The old man in the bed next to you dies. Then the next morning - off to the operating room you go for yet another brake job insert, and this time the ending is complete with an exceptionally cruel instrument known as a catheter. (But blessedly, you don't know any of this until you wake up.) That is when you instantly realize there is something stuck in your thing that you want out right now. The nurses keep you from reaching down in desperation and somehow yanking out that foreign object. It is a feeling you have never experienced. It is almost as bad as the Inquisition slowly rubbing sandpaper over your eye ball, while an assistant holds your hands down. The protest falls on closed ears. You are then informed that it stays and you'll "get used to it". Believe it or not you can't get it out even if you tried, as they have blown up a balloon affixed to the other end of the torturous device, and until somebody pops it, you will submit. You later realize this catheter device is a tube which is draining out your bladder through your you-know-what! All you think is how can a tube that wide be in your thing?

So there you are back in your room. There is a new guy in the bed next to you. There is a plastic bag on the floor, which a nurse keeps coming into the room and emptying - she smilingly tells you that "Koolaide" color liquid in the plastic bag is good! You're still trying to figure out where it is coming from. The next morning the new class of nurses (not one over sixteen) all file into your room, and make a neat circle around the lower part of your bed. Sure enough, they each individually lift up your sheet, and have a pleasant conversation while each has a peek at your now, way overexposed thing. Well, after a couple of days of begging and Koolaide flavor colors changing from cherry to orange, they finally remove the torture device.

Now you are supposed to pee on your own. The trouble is that hole looks like the "mixed spray" adjustment on my lawn sprinkler, and aside from the extreme pain of running salty pee through those open wounds, you have no idea which direction that baby is going to come out. Especially when you are supposed to pee into a plastic bottle with a curved neck while you are laying down - try that sometime! You can't do it sitting in the bed either, as your large gut prevents you having anything to work with. Anyhow, the wall next to me - you guessed it - was painted unfortunately a Comanche white. What a mess. Finally cornered the clean-up girl and paid her $20 to restore the wall to its original splendor before my wife came in to visit me.

I guess I'm not a very good patient. Takes a long time to recover from something like this - in fact my buddies all know to move over a couple of urinals when I step up to the plate, as I still do not know which direction its going to go. Can't blame them I guess. The new drug, called "Proscar", though, shrinks the prostate, the same as the old "ream-job" operation they used to do. It really works good. Thinking back over the whole experience, I think the only good part was when the nurses put the cream on your thing to "prevent infection". But that's only once. The next time you need it, they tell you to do it yourself. Well, I'm fine now, and happy to say your dagger guarantees are safe for another year.

MY HOME TOWN MOORESTOWN

Well Moorestown is really on a high. If you don't get "Money Magazine" you probably don't know what happened here. Moorestown was voted the best town in ALL of America to live in! They used lots of different criteria to compare our town with some 1400 other fine places to live in this country. These were things like school system, architectural home styles, family outings, theater and the arts, athletic programs, and even measured how many folks return to Moorestown after graduating college to raise their children. We even had news teams from all over the country out there on Main Street and down by Strawbridge Lake for weeks on end. But, if you have read my Banter column over the years, you already know what a great place Moorestown is! We even have a lot of sports people living here in some of the multi-million dollar mansions which have been built on all our farmland over the last two decades. We got no cows anymore, and there are no corn fields either. But, at least we are the best town in the country anyhow. I just was glad that the P.C. people that did the scoring didn't know that one of the nation's largest dealers in 3rd Reich militaria is based in a cellar on Main Street!

In my last write-up of my hometown, I told you how there seemed to be a lot of questionable dealings concerning all of the building permits being issued by our planning committee. Remember? The planning board president was also in the new construction clean-up business and worked for all of the builders that were getting variances for their developments - Remember? And then he married another member on the board and they didn't see anything wrong with that- Remember? Well, I am proud to say Moorestown folks came through the way we would expect. They voted out the whole bunch and for the first time since 1690 when the town was founded, we have a Democratic administration. Even I voted for the Democrats, but don't tell my mother, as she is a Rush Limbo "groupie" and probably would cut me out of the will if she knew. Actually, I did it because I was tired of the taxes going up every year for the schools, when my kids are already grown and out - hard not to be self-centered. Anyhow, it didn't work as the taxes went up even higher this year then they ever have in the past.

We have an art dealer up on Main Street. He's a pretty nice guy (at least to me), and I notice that he waters the hanging plants for the craft store lady next door at the same time he waters his own. It is good to be neighborly. I also notice that this man likes to introduce fine deserving women to the exciting world of a Moorestown art store. After all, with the rich people all living here, there must be those that need a little color added to the living or bedroom. Usually, though, these woman also get to be partners in the store. He is always introducing me to the new partner - usually a couple a year. I don't know what it takes to be a partner, but they all seem to get replaced with another partner sooner or later. A guess they just get tired of the exciting world of a Moorestown art store. Strange, as the store is an interesting place.

I bought an old Imperial painting of a German Army officer about three years ago at a show. It had a rip coming down the center of the canvass, but I liked the Prussian look of the subject, and the painting was only $500. A couple of years ago, I took the painting into this Main street art store to see if the tear could be repaired and if the painting could be touched up accordingly and framed. I was assured this would be no problem. I kind of forgot about it I guess, but I got a call a couple of months ago informing me the restoration work was on the home stretch and could I possibly drop off a check for $1200. Well, I thought that was a bit high, but I reserved my final opinion until I saw the completed result. The art dealer (and his latest partner), brought the completed painting by my house a couple of days later, (he knows where I live as we have done other business) and I must say, it really looks extremely beautiful. He wanted another $250 for a jazzy, period-looking frame, and since I was already in this far, what the hell.

I thought this painting would add a lot of color to my table stand at the MAX, and who knows, maybe there is somebody out there that would like this masterpiece more than I. Well, I went to the Moorestown Mall and sauntered into the A.C. Moores craft store and confidently bought a $19 easel. I discovered by accident that it wouldn't begin to hold the weight of the painting and I went back to A.C. Moore's slightly humbled, but not discouraged, and this time bought a $75 easel. (I could not return the other as I broke it). This one worked, but I could now see I could not sell this painting cheap. Well I carefully packed the colorful canvass into a mirror box I bought at U-haul for another $12, and put it into the truck after much trouble tying it down with bungy cords for the long trip to Charlotte. After arriving, I carefully undid the painting and set the Imperial officer proudly on the $75 easel. It was Thursday morning set-up day. I stood back to admire the magnificence of this art, more than sure that others were also drooling over this obvious treasure. Finally, around late Saturday afternoon, three days into the show, I noticed a potential "customer" studying the painting intensely. I asked if I could explain anything to him. He wanted to know if it was a "numbers painting". I knew it had to get better. But, it didn't. On Sunday morning a casual passerby asked me if the paint was "dry yet" on that painting.

I guess the MAX crowd does not appreciate fine art. So now I have an acclaimed, fabulous Imperial painting to add to my collecting room. Unfortunately, I'll have to move over the other acclaimed, fabulous painting I bought a few years ago that mysteriously didn't sell-either. It's a good thing the art dealer only has female partners in the exciting world of a Moorestown art store. I fear my taste in paintings, however, cannot be blamed on the best town to live in the entire country - Moorestown! I just hope a lot of other people don't read "Money Magazine", as the traffic is getting horrific on my beloved Main Street. Lately I keep getting a lot of hand gestures from all of the SUV/Hummer drivers while trying to back out of my driveway.

Sincerely,

Thomas T. Wittmann