Speaks volumes there. I was told a story once, by an old, beat to hell, Korean War Veteran Marine. He was my uncle. He was also the guy that gave me my first Kabar. Not sure if it was true, but its true its a story.
Goes like this:
During WWII, most of the men folk were off fighting, and the ladies of America hit the workforce, some, for the first time. Taking up jobs that women had never done before, welding, riveting, fixing cars, making cars, making bombs, making guns, stuff like that. Now, these ladies were of all ages, but the majority of them came from households where men done mens work, and women done womens work. Getting a chance to wear pants and run a cutting torch for Boeing, was WAY different that cooking, cleaning, and taking care of kids.
Some of the women, went to work for Kabar, making knives for their men, overseas, fighting and dying for their country. So, like all women who took care of their men, they made the best. Not just the best they could, they made the best ever. They worked until fingers bled, butts went numb, and the eyes got watery from constant focus. And then they went home, and cooked, cleaned, and took care of their kids.
I was told of one lady that worked for Kabar, that had ground knives from WWII, to the end of the Korean War. She started young, and finished old. And only quit, because, "I'm getting to old to put a hair splitting edge on tha knives". She quietly left one day, punching out on the clock, and never returned. She raised her kids, and buried her husband in the time she spent behind the grinder at Kabar, and never once had any regrets about it at all. In her eyes, she served the men that served her country, and she was proud of what she had done. At first, because it was her duty, then it was her job, finally, it was her passion.
My uncle told me this, shortly before handing me a Kabar knife. I was young and asked him about the lady, and did he know her.
I buried her two months ago, She, was my mom.
I never knew if the story was true, or if he had cooked it up. Still don't know. I don't know here name, and since my Uncle blew his knot off with a 12ga, asking him would take a Ouji board.
Either way, true or not, I like to think about that lady in the story, everytime I pick up one of my Kabar's, and its often, I think about that lady and what she done.
People sometimes get caught up in the pursuit of perfection, or the finding of flaws. Not to say you shouldn't want your money's worth out of something you bought. But, the moral of the story is,
Folks at Kabar, have a passion about what they do, and that is seen through the actions of the members of Kabar.
Thanks.
Moose