- Joined
- Dec 5, 2000
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- 1,361
Hey guys! Thought you'd get a kick out of this. It's an excerpt from a book called "Finder" by Greg Rucka. The main character is a bodyguard, and the story is told from his perspective.
"Can I see your knife?" I asked Denny
He hesitated, and then Moore said, "What's he going to do with it, boy? You can hand it over."
Denny shot me a sheepish look and handed over the knife. I turned back to face the road and examined it, and it was exactly what I thought it was, and that didn't make me happy at all.
Knives are fetish objects for most professional soldiers, and the higher trained the person, the more knife choice matters. It's not simply that they're looking for a knife that can cut well; it's a multipurpose tool that needs to be as rugged as, in theory, the soldier himself. What's the point of carrying a knife that won't open after you've slogged through a swamp, or rusts if you take it underwater, or loses its edge once you've cut a throat to the bone?
The knife Denny handed me, and the knife Trouble had pulled at The Strap, and I assumed the knives Moore and Knowles were carrying were all the same model, one called the Emerson CQC-6. CQC stands for "close quarter combat." It's a folding knife that can be opened with one hand. The blade is aggressive, very sharp, and the tanto point makes it ideal for cutting, thrusting, or chopping. Good for chopping kindling, or killing, depending on your preference.
It's a knife that the special forces community covets, the way they covet Rolex watches; they always want the best equipment. Like the Rolex, it's a lodge pin of sorts - you have one, you're a member of the club. You have both, you've been paying your dues.
So I was sitting in a car with three special forces-trained soldiers. The only question was which group, and I already didn't like the answer to that one.
I closed the knife and handed it back to Denny, saying, "'Who dares wins.'"
"Can I see your knife?" I asked Denny
He hesitated, and then Moore said, "What's he going to do with it, boy? You can hand it over."
Denny shot me a sheepish look and handed over the knife. I turned back to face the road and examined it, and it was exactly what I thought it was, and that didn't make me happy at all.
Knives are fetish objects for most professional soldiers, and the higher trained the person, the more knife choice matters. It's not simply that they're looking for a knife that can cut well; it's a multipurpose tool that needs to be as rugged as, in theory, the soldier himself. What's the point of carrying a knife that won't open after you've slogged through a swamp, or rusts if you take it underwater, or loses its edge once you've cut a throat to the bone?
The knife Denny handed me, and the knife Trouble had pulled at The Strap, and I assumed the knives Moore and Knowles were carrying were all the same model, one called the Emerson CQC-6. CQC stands for "close quarter combat." It's a folding knife that can be opened with one hand. The blade is aggressive, very sharp, and the tanto point makes it ideal for cutting, thrusting, or chopping. Good for chopping kindling, or killing, depending on your preference.
It's a knife that the special forces community covets, the way they covet Rolex watches; they always want the best equipment. Like the Rolex, it's a lodge pin of sorts - you have one, you're a member of the club. You have both, you've been paying your dues.
So I was sitting in a car with three special forces-trained soldiers. The only question was which group, and I already didn't like the answer to that one.
I closed the knife and handed it back to Denny, saying, "'Who dares wins.'"
