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 Thursday, March 11, 2010
Lessons learned (the hard way)
Posted by john
Greetings,
Sometimes, when the phone rings, one knows he shouldn’t answer but does. This happened to me at the Show of Shows. I was manning my booth when the Blackberry rang. A quick glance revealed it was a call coming through my Military Vehicles line. It was after 6PM on a Friday evening. Everything pointed to letting it go to voice mail. Nevertheless, despite all the alarms going off in my head, I clicked the “go” button and said, “Military Vehicles and Military Trader. This is John”.
The person on the other end didn’t even introduce himself but rather launched into the point of his call: He had bought a 2-1/2 ton historic military vehicle from a seller in Wisconsin but didn’t receive a title. What could I do to help him?
I was dumb-founded. Standing at a show surrounded by customers didn’t help. I was the dummy for thinking I could adequately address any reader’s concerns, but here I was—I was in it now!
I tried to regain control of the call by attempting to get the caller to at least tell me to whom I was speaking. That wasn’t successful. So then, I tried to move right to his problem in an attempt to understand what exactly was the dilemma.
It seems the caller was not from Wisconsin, but rather, had purchased a truck from a person who was. The caller paid for the truck in cash and drove it away. He did not get a bill of sale or title. Now, he was trying to register his truck and, having no title, ran into a roadblock. The seller was not returning his calls. What could he do?
Maybe it was the noise of the show or just the exhaustion from being on the road, but my kinder self did not prevail. “What could he do?” All I could answer was, “Get a good lawyer”.
My mind slipped back to when I was eighteen. My dad would not allow me to own my own car while I was in high school. So, during the last months of our senior year, my buddy Damien and I scoured want ads for a Porsche I could afford. We found a 914 (a glorified Volkswagen Beetle) in Des Moines, Iowa, nearly five hours from our Minnesota hometown. With $2,500 in hand on the last day of school, we drove to Des Moines and the next morning, after deciding the paint job looked nice, handed over the money and drove off. We had gone about 10 miles when the car rolled to a stop with a dead battery (NOW I know it was just a bad alternator, but then, it was the sign of having just bought a lemon!)
I didn’t know what to do. I had to call my dad for help. After the expected 10-15 minutes of yelling, he calmed down and we worked to solve the problem. His first question was, “Did you get the title?” Uh, no. I didn’t know I was supposed to. “But,” I explained, “The guy was really nice. I am sure it will be no problem.”
Little did I expect, the guy did not answer his phone…for two days. We finally towed the car back to his house. The seller and a buddy were in the garage and told us not to leave the car with them.
I found a phone and called my dad again. He was at his lawyer’s office. They used their influence to get a Des Moines officer to show up at the guy’s garage along with the towed Porsche. The flash of a badge was enough to convince the guy to hand over the $2,500 and accept the keys back to the car.
I was real lucky. I was in over my head and my dad and his lawyer pulled me out of the deep end.
But what about the guy with the truck from Wisconsin? Well, the grim fact is, he is in for a struggle. During 2008-2009, Wisconsin was not issuing any registrations for historic military vehicles (HMVs). After a two year campaign, a very dedicated group of HMV owners have successfully legislated a bill through the House and Senate that will protect private ownership of HMVs. As you read this, the bill is on the governor’s desk awaiting his signature. But that won’t help our nameless caller.
Unfortunately, I did not come up with any good advice for him. I was way out of my element—both physically and legally! I still believe his best path is to hire a lawyer to draft a certified letter requesting the title. But I am betting the seller never had one, so that might be money thrown down the lawyer-drain. What next?
Obtaining a title for a vehicle that has none has become pretty tough. There used to be a few titling businesses scattered around the U.S. but changes in the laws have forced them out of business. One could try registering it through their DMV, but first would have to prove ownership. That is going to be tough for a military vehicle recently released from service. I had no solution for the guy’s problem.
He never did identify himself, but he did admit that he was probably a little too eager and a little bit too careless when he bought the truck. By the end of the call, he was giving off the vibe of a whipped dog with his tail between his legs. I tried to assure him, “We all do stupid things. In fact, I do at least one REALLY stupid thing a year.” He told me he would keep me apprised of the situation and said good-bye.
Southern Fried Crow
After the show, I was sitting in my hotel room thinking about the call. I still couldn’t come up with any good advice, but I thought about the end of our conversation. “I do at least one REALLY stupid thing a year.” Was that true? What about 2009?
Oh, it didn’t take but a micro-second to recall the really stupid thing I did in 2009. My ears began to blush immediately just as they are now as I type.
Some of you may remember one of my rants in the JAG File in which I voiced my opinion about the public display of the Confederate Battle Flag. Well, I received a bunch of feedback, but none so eloquent, thoughtful and instructive as that from B. Frank Earnest, Chief of Heritage Defense of the Sons of Confederate Veterans. Mr. Earnest and I shared a series of emails as we both stated our positions and considered each other’s. Finally, I admitted I could see his point of view and could respect his opinion as well as his right—or anyone else’s—to display the flag.
This was a real eye-opening experience for me and changed an opinion that I held fast for many years. My blog about the Confederate Battle Flag was, without a doubt, the stupidest thing I did in 2009, but I did learn from the mistake. I hope anyone who I offended with accept my sincere apology as well as my “reformation” of opinion.
Alas, I will continue to do stupid things. 2010 will have its contender, for sure. I just hope whatever dumb things I do this year, won’t impact others. And with that, I will wipe the grease off my chin from this particular serving of southern fried crow.
Keep finding the good stuff and keep those historic MVs rolling,
John A-G
Editor, Military Trader and Military Vehicles Magazine
Thursday, March 11, 2010 3:53:02 PM (GMT Standard Time, UTC+00:00) 
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Careful about that “Group”
Posted by John
As a collector of militaria identified to particular soldiers, I am sensitive to the use of the term “Group” or “Grouping”. Most collectors will agree, this is a term we use to describe a lot of material from one soldier that was acquired all together. But, like any other terms used within the hobby, that definition is up for interpretation.
Every day, I scan the WWI category on eBay looking for items to add to my AEF Tank Corps collection. I don’t find a lot, but the exercise affords me the opportunity to see some pretty neat pieces and stay familiar with sales patterns. Often, I find myself studying listings that purport to be “groups”. I like to see what items a soldier put away after the war and survived intact for 90+ years.
A couple of weeks ago, I saw a couple of groups that caught my eye: One was a 37th Division grouping, the other a 40th Division. Both were offered by the same seller. What really got my attention was the 40th Division group that included a uniform with a gorgeous sunburst shoulder patch and a M1917 helmet with matching painted insignia.
One might ask, “What was so remarkable about this group? Uniforms with insignia and matching painted helmets are commonly encountered.” Well, this one was remarkable for a few reasons: First, the seller said that it all belonged to the same soldier in a Train Battalion. Second, the seller represented himself as a collector and not a dealer … I actually knew the guy and figured him to be a straight-up individual. And third, I knew that the helmet didn’t come with this group—I had just held the helmet in my hands at the Show of Shows and could also point back to the dealer’s catalog where it had been listed a couple of months prior to appearing on the eBay auction as part of the “group”!
There was no doubting the identification. There were paint scratches in the insignia that made the helmet unique. So, I wrote to the seller through eBay’s messaging system to ask if he was sure that this group came together. He replied that it had and its provenance was impeccable. I wrote again, this time a bit more assertive, telling him that I knew the helmet was not part of the group but had been added. I told him that I had, in fact, held and studied the helmet at the SOS. He then relented and admitted that he bought the helmet and added it “because it looked so good together” and that he had never implied that the items all started life together. A third note in which I quoted his own listing disproved this assertion. Finally, he added a note to his auction, but that was long after many people had bid, and if like me, had placed their snipe bids…the latter probably never even seeing the seller’s added comments.
What’s the point of this tale? Well, I guess the obvious is, “Approach ‘groups’ with skepticism. They have a way of growing over the years.” The second moral is, “No matter how well you think you know another collector or dealer, they can surprise you with how far they are willing to stretch the truth to make a sale.” And finally, this should stand as a warning to anyone who misrepresent items: Be aware that there are no secrets anymore…the Internet is a powerful tool for discovering a person’s deception and for also revealing the deceiver’s intent—something that will destroy any hope of maintaining a good reputation in what is actually quite a small fraternity of collectors and dealers.
Will this stop me from buying groups? Heck no! Will I ever trust items dumped on eBay? Not really … the days of finding great sleepers on eBay has passed. For many dealers and collectors, it has become the great dumping ground for the undesirable, questionable and out-right phonies. There are still gems to be found, for sure, but they are becoming far and few between.
John Adams-Graf
Editor, Military Trader and Military Vehicles Magazine
Thursday, March 11, 2010 3:37:20 PM (GMT Standard Time, UTC+00:00)
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Monday, February 22, 2010
Thumbs up for the 2010 S.O.S.
Posted by John
Greetings,
I am just back from the Show of Shows in Louisville, Kentucky, and thought I would share a few thoughts before they fade.
This was probably my 12th or 13th Show of Shows and without hesitation, will say it was the best one in my experience. The Ohio Valley Military Society (OVMS) has ironed out a few more wrinkles with each passing year, and this year seems to have been just a bit smoother than years gone by.
Once again, despite saying “Never again!” I was Yellow Team leader for table set-up on Wednesday. With a little preparation, and a minimum of yelling at the top of my lungs, it went well. Yellow Team, for the third year running, finished first and without errors. I have to compliment the men and women who throw the tables. The sound is deafening and the rewards seem minimal, but they stick it out, all in the hopes of bringing in their wares early at 5:00PM.
By Thursday afternoon, the hall was filled with more than 1,600 tables of militaria. Covering for a friend who was sick and unable to man his tables, I was pretty much strapped in place and never really got to shop. No matter, I had many pre-arranged deals, so just had to make deliveries of money.
On a run to the restroom, though, I spotted a very nice Tank Corps trench art match safe. That bathroom break cost me $200, but I added a nice piece to the collection!
Saturday was the best SOS Saturday that I have experienced and all credit goes to the OVMS President and Board. They announced that beginning next year, any dealer that tears down before 3:00 PM on Saturday runs the risk of losing his tables for the following year. They began handing out warnings this year. Bolstered by a huge waiting list for tables, the new rule had impact—I have never seen the show so active on a late Saturday afternoon!
I honestly can’t comment too much on trends, as I didn’t see much other than the tables I was servicing. However, it seems that European and Russian attendance was lighter this year, but those that did come bought very aggressively.
Like any show, there are a myriad of mini-dramas at the OVMS, but again, kudos to the President and the Board for keeping them low-key and without impact on the overall success of the show.
Oh, and a final, important note ... I have been cutting back on BBQ these days and trying to eat a bit healthier. So, no Louisville BBQ report for this year. However, thanks to my buddies John and Carrie, I discovered a great pizza place that delivers to the motels around the expo center: Bearno’s. One of the best pizza-carnivorous that I have had—a new SOS favorite in my book!
Happy Buena Vista Day, everyone. 163 years ago, 4,500 American soldiers (mostly volunteers) cleared the field of 20,000 attacking Mexicans. Hail Columbia!
John A-G
Editor, MT and MVM
Monday, February 22, 2010 9:43:43 PM (GMT Standard Time, UTC+00:00)
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Wednesday, February 10, 2010
Hey, it's February: Get out and celebrate!
Posted by John
Greetings,
To me, February is a pretty great month. Growing up in Minnesota, it is ingrained in me that February is the “hump” of winter…just a few more months until the grass is visible. Of course, February also means that an old, hopeless romantic will look through the mail with anticipation of Valentines (well a guy can hope, can’t he). And, February marks the anniversary of the Battle of Buena Vista, a self-proclaimed two-day holiday that I have celebrated for the past 30 years.
But, probably overshadowing all of these events (and I better mention my dear partner’s birthday also falls in February as well—right on the kickoff of Buena Vista Days—what else?), February culminates with the Show of Shows.
For those of you who are not familiar, the Show of Shows is the penultimate militaria show in the United States. Hosted by the nation’s largest militaria club, the Ohio Valley Military Society, collectors from around the world converge on Louisville, Kentucky, for the pinnacle of militaria buy-and-sell.
With more than 1,600 tables, the Show of Shows is probably the best cross-section of the hobby. While there isn’t a particular theme, one will find dealers who specialize in Third Reich, WWI, Civil War, Commonwealth, Japanese, Russian, military vehicles, books and movies, and of course, U.S. militaria. There truly is something for everyone in the hobby at the SOS.
Many collectors have been saving money or material for months in anticipation of the SOS. Me, I have an account at my bank marked “SOS Funds” into which I trickle money all year just so that I can be ready…why set aside funds that could be spent on other relics? More than any other show I have attended, the SOS has the mystique of “Ya never know what will show up”. Over the years, I have been surprised at the treasures I have found at this show. This year, I am looking for serious WWI AEF Tank Corps items to add to the collection as well as quality WWI photos of soldiers in full gear. We all have our favorites, don’t we!
The SOS wouldn’t exist if it was for the dedication of the Ohio Valley Military Society. It is nice to see an organization truly committed to understanding the needs of its members. If you aren’t a member, you should consider joining (you don’t have to live in Ohio…just an old name for a club that grew way beyond its expectations). Log onto www.sosovms.com for more info on the OVMS and the SOS.
So to recap, the important dates to remember in February:
February 14, Valentine’s Day (this Sunday, meatheads!). Dip into the collecting funds and buy your sweetie a card or some flowers.
February 18-21. Show of Shows at the Kentucky Exposition Center, South Wing B in Louisville, Kentucky.
February 22-23. Buena Vista Days. Go out for some Mexican food and raise a glass to old Rough and Ready and the 4,500 American soldiers who soundly defeated 20,000 Mexican soldiers in 1847.
Keep finding the good stuff,
John Adams-Graf, Editor
Military Vehicles and Military Trader
Wednesday, February 10, 2010 11:23:43 PM (GMT Standard Time, UTC+00:00)
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Wednesday, January 27, 2010
Where is your collection?
Posted by John
Greetings,
Where is your collection? Over the past month, I have processed two very fine collections, neither of which has ever seen the light of day. While sorting through the uniforms, medals and headgear, I have given a lot of thought to what we do with items in our collection once we have captured the quarry.
The first collection that I poured over had been packed away in cardboard boxes in 1983. The owner thoughtfully wrapped each item in pages of Shotgun News. Box after box of uniforms and accouterments were stuffed full, with any gaps filled with crumpled pages of the once-formidable —but extremely acidic—collecting newspaper.
His storage method did nothing for the collection. Several pieces had to be thrown away because they were just too damaged by the acids in the newsprint. Additionally, the mice loved the taste of Shotgun News, and munching away in the dark, evidently could not discern the difference between wood pulp newsprint and red wool broadcloth of a British Victorian-era officer’s tunic.
Aside from a few bad choices in storage methods, I wondered about how much this collector enjoyed his collection. There obviously was satisfaction in obtaining the items because each item was carefully coded with a tag, but then it appears that once that was done, the item went into a box. This process continued for more than 30 years until the collector passed away and the family decided to reclaim the real estate occupied by the stacks of boxes.
The second collection came packed in plastic tubs. This was certainly a step-up from the previous cardboard-encased group! An added bonus was that the collector himself came with material to help to describe and prepare the items for sale. We had a great time digging it out, and seeing the vast array of material that this man had amassed over a 40-year period of very focused WWI-collecting.
Everyone involved in the process were struck by the scarcity of many of the pieces we uncovered. It was nothing but sheer joy describing, photographing and inventorying the items for subsequent sale. As a WWI collector myself, I had to wipe the drool from my lips many times and realize that my job was to process and not covet.
As much fun as we had sorting and handling the objects, I was struck by a statement the owner of the collection made before he left, “This is the first time in 40 years that I have seen the collection all at one time.” Like so many collectors, he had dreams of eventually having a building dedicated to displaying his collections. A former museum professional, he even entertained the notion of his own museum, or at least, a gallery in another museum that would display his wares.
But time caught up to him. He was astounded just how fast 40 years passed and he wasn’t much closer to his dream. Rather, he had a “collecting room” but it was filled, wall-to-ceiling, with these plastic tubs filled with his collection. He never had the space to open the tubs and perform a crucial step in organized collecting: Evaluation. Rather, he had to keep it all in his head. When he found a cartridge box or helmet, he had to determine, sight unseen, if it was an upgrade of something he already had. If it was, he went through the tubs searching for the item to bump from the collection to make room for the new acquisition. He never experienced the joy of walking into a space and being able to view his collection in its entirety.
WHAT DO YOU DO WITH YOUR COLLECTION?
We all collect this stuff for a variety of reasons, probably some we don’t readily understand. But this isn’t the place for a psychological examination of the roots of collecting. Anyone in this hobby does it because of an interest in military history.
My recent experiences unpacking the two collections, though, has really caused me to think about my own collecting. I have been through many phases in my collecting.
When I was young up through my college years, I collected German helmets. Each new one I found went on a shelf until the walls of my room were lined.
Then, I went through a phase of collecting Hitler Youth material. This seemed to be a Riker-mount and hanging closet kind of collection. It didn’t take up as much room as the helmets, but unless I sat down with it, the collection was impossible to view and evaluate in any easy way.
The Hitler Youth material yielded its place in my heart when I jumped into reenacting. That obsession led to my collecting area being filled with stacks of uniforms, equipment and weapons. No one could have untangled that mess! But, it was all stuffed in a closet so didn’t impose itself on my wife or daughter.
During the years when I was raising my daughter, collecting took a bit of a back seat. Toys displaced collecting spaces, and frankly, I enjoyed being with my daughter more than I enjoyed going to shows or being on the hunt. However, during those years, my photography collection continued to grow and grow with a focus on early daguerreotypes. Initially, these items were easy to display around our home: sneak one onto the knick-knack shelf, on top of the dresser, along the edge of the television. Pretty soon, our little duplex was awash with silver plates reflecting the images of 1840s people wherever one turned.
Like most collectors, I didn’t stop there. I started to fill drawers and acid-free boxes with still more daguerreotypes, ambrotypes, tintypes and carte de visites.
I tried to keep a running inventory but that didn’t provide the adrenaline rush of going from antique shop to flea market looking for the next capture. My enthusiasm didn’t go unnoticed. The Daguerreian Society, an international organization of photo-historians, collectors and practitioners elected me their president. I was in full-blown collector obsession mode.
Alas, like so many collectors, the obsession took over my life. Coupled with a series of similarly unwise decisions, I wound up in divorce court. The collection was liquidated along with the lifestyle. As I organized the collection for sale, I realized I hadn’t seen many of the pieces since the day I placed them in their appointed acid-free boxes. I didn’t say it out loud, but I did ask myself, “what was the point?” Needless to say, my collecting mojo was depleted.
But you can’t keep a good collector down. After a few years, I started gathering items related to the 10th Mountain Division experience in WWII. Soon my office was overflowing with mannequins, rucksacks, snowshoes and skis. The collection occupied two of the three bedrooms in my little house. I was able to spend hours amidst the collection studying, learning and absorbing. The learning curve was sharp and the enjoyment complete.
But, it hit a limit. At a certain point, I realized I wasn't getting any smarter by buying another pair of skis or another rucksack. Rather, I switched from “study” mode to “hoarding”. Remembering past experiences, I knew where this was leading…a collection packed in boxes.
So, using that as an excuse, I liquidated that collection and paid off long-standing credit card bills. I sold my house (just a coincidence, not a reaction to the collection!) and moved into a duplex. The master bedroom became my office. Simultaneously, I decided to focus my collecting efforts on a topic that had been long dear to my heart: The origin of the American Tank Corps during WWI.
This actually seems to be a good fit…the market isn’t flooded with items, so I am able to make very careful purchases. Limiting myself to identified items slows down my spending even more. And finally, each item is able to find a place of display in my office. So, through the course of the day, I am surrounded by the items that I enjoy collecting and researching. I am proud to say, there are fewer than ten tunics on hangers or in acid-free boxes. Rather than occupying the spaces permanently, they are part of my rotating display. About every six months, I strip the torsos and place a new uniform on so that I get to enjoy the full collection with out risking it to long-term exposure.
I still collect historic photographs, having focused my attention on WWI images over the last ten years. After I copystand each new image, the photos go into albums. But that isn’t to say I don’t enjoy the images. Apart from being able to drag an album onto the couch for a Sunday afternoon’s perusal, I have loaded low-res copies of each image onto my screensaver. I am embarrassed to think how much time I have just stopped what I am doing to watch a 25” wide-presentation of WWI soldiers in the middle of the day!
I don’t know if I have learned too many lessons over the years, but I continue to examine my own collecting habits and those of my peers. I am always curious to learn how people use their collections. Drop me a note and a picture or two of how you enjoy your collection and I can share those on the web site or in the magazine. You never know, it might just inspire someone to drag out their collection and learn to enjoy it all over again.
Keep finding the good stuff,
John Adams-Graf
Editor, Military Trader and Military Vehicles
Wednesday, January 27, 2010 9:36:04 PM (GMT Standard Time, UTC+00:00)
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Thursday, January 14, 2010
My First War Movie
Posted by John
Greetings,
Growing
up in a home the youngest of four boys and a sister, I was lucky to get lots of
hand-me-down clothes, toys and attention. My brothers were all history
enthusiasts, probably the result of our monthly trips to the library or book
store where we were each allowed to select our own books. Of course, once home
and read, the books were passed around, so we all had similar interests. If one
brother was reading about the Battle of Gettysburg, by the next trip to the
library, all of the others shared in the interest.
This
supportive environment was subconsciously supported by my parents who were both
avid readers. My Dad, a WWII vet, was always reading some historic treatise,
and although he never really talked about the books he read, he always seemed
so smart when asked a question. I was always pestering him to teach me close
order drill, how to salute or the proper way to carry the musette bag and
pistol belt that he brought home from the war.
The
best night of the week was, of course, Saturday night (baths withstanding).
There was usually a movie on the television and the whole family would stake
out their claim in the living room and Dad would make popcorn.
Our
little town didn’t have a movie theater, but occasionally my dad would drop my
brothers off at a theater in neighboring La Crosse, Wisconsin, to attend a
matinee while he and I went to the library and book store. He didn’t say it,
but I was just too young to take to the movies.
However,
in 1969, my brothers planned on attending the new release of the “Battle of
Britain.” I heard them talking about it for a week so when the day of our La
Crosse trip came around, I begged my dad to let me go to the movies with the
boys. He relented and all of us…the four boys and my dad…took our places in the
dark theater, anticipating the rise of the curtain and the big screen dog
fights.
With
the first planes lifting off grass runways, I was right there in the movie with
the RAF pilots. I didn’t have a plane, but I had mastered mimicking the sound
of a Rolls Royce engine and chattering Vickers machine guns. As the battle on
screen intensified, so did my vocal participation in the combat. Sounding
somewhere between a screaming Donald Duck and wet firecrackers, I was oblivious
to the people who got up and sat elsewhere. With each Hurricane or Spitfire
that started to tunnel in, I accompanied with appropriate 7-year-old-produced
vocal renditions of sputtering engines, gasping pilots and exploding gas tanks.
It
was only in a lull of the combat did I notice that my dad and I were
alone…everyone—including my brothers—had moved as far from us as the theater
walls would permit.
Eventually
the agony of my brothers and my father were alleviated when the film finally
ended. I was exhausted from vocalized aerial combat. Nevertheless, I chattered
about the movie for the entire 30 minute ride back to our home. I thought the
movie was the greatest thing I had ever seen and I spent countless hours
recreating dog fights with pencil and paper. In fact, for years thereafter, I
was quick to exclaim “Battle of Britain” whenever someone asked me what was my
favorite movie.
Nearly
40 years passed when my brothers and I carried popcorn to our seats to see the
“Battle of Britain” when I noticed the DVD for sale at Wal-Mart. There was no
question that a movie that had made such an impact in my life had to be added
to my personal library. I purchased it, rushed home, and with a bucket of
chicken snuggled in my lap, I started the movie that I was sure would carry me
back to that matinee with my brothers and Dad.
The
movie started and I quickly devoured a few drumsticks and thigh before it
dawned on me….other than the original Henkels and ME109s used in the film, this
movie STUNK! It was painful to
watch, but I and the chicken persevered (though the latter surrendered early
before the Nazis’ second wave on London).
I
was truly disappointed. The movie didn’t stir me the way it had when I was
seven. It wasn’t “bigger than life”. It was the serious drama I thought it was.
Though the combat scenes were lively and there was plenty of cool air-to-air
action between Spitfires and MEs, it was no better than any of the hundreds of
other war movies I have watched in the ensuing 40 years. What had happened?
Then
it dawned on me… “Battle of Britain” wasn’t my favorite movie of all time
because of good acting or realistic depictions of combat, though to my
7-year-old mind, those were the obvious factors. Rather, it was my favorite
movie of all time because it packaged a wonderful memory of being the “baby
brother” who got to spend a day at the movies with his big brothers and his
dad.
Preserve the memories,
John A-G
Editor, Military Trader and Military Vehicles Magazine
Thursday, January 14, 2010 2:52:31 PM (GMT Standard Time, UTC+00:00)
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Wednesday, December 30, 2009
Let's stick together and keep rolling
Posted by John
Greetings,
I have been wondering about how our hobby will change in the
new year. It took some time, but by the end of 2009, the faltering economy
caught up with militaria and military vehicle collectors. This was good for
those who were in a position to continue pursuing their hobby, but it made
dealers scramble to come up with ways to bolster their sales. I was impressed
with a number of businesses that posted sales on their web sites, had special
reduced shipping charges or other incentives to keep customers buying.
It is no secret that during these economic downturns,
bargains are to be had. In my own collecting, I have benefited from other
collectors deciding to downsize and turn loose of items I have coveted for many
years. Just recently, I was fortunate to buy a significant collection of WWI
photos of various allied soldiers. It was a big investment, but I recognized
that the opportunity may not come again anytime soon.
Sales and liquidations aside, though, what trends can be
seen in the hobby? First, and foremost, I have seen movement in the historic
military vehicle arena that will allow many to drive something big and green
for a very reasonable investment.
What’s the future for military vehicles?
2008 and 2009 were tough years on MV owners...first the gas
prices jumped to highs never imagined, and then the economy faltered. Folks who
had a lot of money tied up in heavy iron considered down-sizing their
collections. All of a sudden, a lot of WWII jeeps, post-WWII deuces, larger
trucks and even tracked vehicles hit the market. As was to be expected, the
early offers of vehicles for sale were at the “price invested” or even more.
But the customers didn’t step up to make the purchase. The OD bubble was about
to burst.
Looking through the classifieds in Military Vehicles this evening (Click here to see the classifieds online]), I saw some real obvious trends: The prices of WWII
jeeps has dropped from an average high of $12,000-15,000 for a fully restored
post-1942 MB or GPW in 2007 to around $10,000-$12,000 today. Furthermore—and
still the best value in the MV market—M35 series deuce-and-halves can be had
for $4,500 and up today. This is about $1,000 cheaper than they were selling
just two years ago!
How will this affect the hobby? It should be great...folks
who have always wanted to own a historic military vehicle have some great
buying power. This will bring new people into the hobby, who of course, will
need parts, manuals, equipment and gear to go with their new vehicles.
But what about the guys who were forced to sell their
vehicles at a price lower than they had invested, due to the economic crunch? I
don’t think they are leaving the hobby, but hopefully, are refocusing their
interests. MV guys are some of the nicest and most caring in the hobby, and I
will bet if one collector falls on hard times, he has a buddy or two who will
be more than happy to welcome his comrade into the garage to pull wrenches, go
on a trail ride or drive an extra vehicle in a parade.
So whatever your current economic state of affairs might be,
the MV hobby is large and friendly. If you know someone who is downsizing their
collections, be sure to share your enthusiasm with them and let them know they
are still welcome at rallies, club meetings and road events. Just because they
may have sold their jeep or deuce doesn’t diminish the value they lend to the
hobby. Let’s stick together to keep keep these historic military vehicles
rolling as a tribute to the veterans who originally relied on them.
John Adams-Graf
Editor, Military Trader and
Military Vehicles
Wednesday, December 30, 2009 6:25:47 PM (GMT Standard Time, UTC+00:00)
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Tuesday, December 15, 2009
A Fort Apache Christmas
Posted by John
Greetings,
I was a privileged kid when it came to parents, family and support of my interests. Once a year, my good fortune evidenced itself especially at Christmas. It had to be hard for my parents to deal with a little military history freak, but they never tried to stifle my interests.
For example, my sixth Christmas stands out for a few reasons. My belief in Santa was still entrenched in my young mind, all of my brothers and sisters were still at home and it was the first time I had money of my own to use for shopping.
The latter was obtained by working at my Dad’s store. During the week, Dad paid me to carry pop bottles to the basement. As I recall, the pay was based on the number of six packs or eight pack bottles. On Saturdays, it was my job to sort the pop bottles. (Of course, my own daughter may not even understand this not having ever drank from a returnable, glass pop bottle!). I would keep track of the bottles on a chart that we kept in the butcher department. One week after tallying my bottle count, Dad would pay me in cash. Coincidentally, these payments came right before he and I walked to the bank to make the store deposit, so it was only natural that I wanted to start my own bank account.
But, with some cash held back for Christmas shopping, I was prepared to go shopping on my own for the first time ever. In our little town, all the stores were open on Friday nights until 9:00 PM. So, on a Friday before Christmas, I took my shopping money out of my toy bank that I kept in Dad’s “office supply” cupboard in our home, and headed downtown. First stop was our own store where I tried to buy two O’Henry bars for my mom and a corn cob pipe for my dad (a tradition that is still honored every Christmas in our family). Dad didn’t charge me for these gifts, so I still had money in my pocket.
Dad told my older brother Joe to take me across the street to the Coast to Coast hardware store. Ross and Margaret Johnson who ran it were good friends of my folks. Ross had been in the Navy during the war, so I liked to show him whatever new military stuff I had. In turn, he showed me any new military models or toys that they stocked for the holiday. That year, he had a small display of military vehicle and airplane model kits. As I recall, they were packaged in a sort of “matchbook” type of box. I picked out a WWII German half-track with Nebelwurfer for my brother Jim.
I didn’t find anything else at the Ross’ store, but something did catch my eye…a set of two plastic buckboard wagons just about the right size to go with the Fort Apache about which I had written to Santa Claus. If Santa acquiesced to my request for the Fort playset, these two wagons would be great additions to the plastic outposts inventory. My brother Joe agreed that it would be the right size (I was always a very ‘scale conscious’ kid when it came to my toy soldiers). He reminded me, however, that I was shopping for my family, not myself. So, we left the Coast to Coast. He went back to our store and I walked to the end of the block and went into Rice’s Pharmacy.
My dad’s cousin, Margaret Ernster worked there so she was quick to engage me in conversation. After I told her how much I had to spend and who I needed to buy for, she helped me select a little tin jewelry box for my sister and a Green Bay Packer’s magazine for my brother Tom. I still had a few dollars (if my memory is correct, I began this shopping spree with about $12.45) and had to get a gift for my brother Joe.
Joe was the middle brother of five kids. He was also the jock of the family with a natural talent for most anything ranging from building things and hunting to cracking jokes and sports. He was also the family’s consummate collector. Like many collectors, he went through phases, and when he was in a “phase” he was obsessive. His current obsession was collecting pennies. So with that in mind, I crossed the street to Sprague’s bank and asked to purchase two rolls of pennies.
With everyone covered, I found myself with money still in my pocket. And of course, the whole time, like any other six-year-old kid, I had been thinking about Santa and the prospect of him bringing me a Fort Apache playset. After all, I had drawn a very clear picture that I enclosed in my letter to him. As if to assuage any doubt in the old man’s mind about my intention, I tore the page out of the J.C. Penney catalog where I saw the playset, circled the Fort in red crayon and used black to cross out everything else on both sides of the page. I had covered my bases well. Santa should have no doubt about what I wanted.
But, a new quandary presented itself. I discovered the twin wagon set at Coast to Coast after I sent the all important letter to the North Pole. Santa had no idea how neat the wagon set would be passing through the plastic wooden gates into the Fort’s safety from pursuing Apache Indians. But, my brother Joe knew, and he agreed how cool it would be to have the wagons if Santa delivered the fort. So, convincing myself that Joe wanted the wagons as much as I did, I went back to Ross’ store, pulled the set off the pegboard rack and returned to the register to make the purchase. I explained to them how it was for my brother Joe. I wasn’t trying to convince them as much as I was myself.
When I returned home that night, I needed help wrapping my presents. My sister Celine was eager to help, but I made her leave the room when I wrapped her box. When it came to the wagons, I explained to her how they were for Joe. I don’t think she was any more convinced than Ross had been at the hardware store. But, we wrapped it and put Joe’s name on the present.
It was that time of Christmas glory when the giver carried the presents to the living room to place under the tree. Because everyone watched television in the same room, it was the giver’s decision whether to make the deposit in secret or to the fanfare of an audience. I chose the latter. I wanted all my brothers and sister to know that I had bought presents for them; after all, it was the first time I had done that. In my mind, it showed how grown up I was. I placed all the presents under the tree and my brothers either feigned interest or ignored me entirely, depending on their own personal demeanor. It did not escape anyone’s notice, however, that Joe had two presents from me.
At long last, Christmas eve came, and with it, Midnight Mass. I didn’t make the connection until probably twenty years later, but Dad always left Midnight Mass after the Gospel was read. At the time, it struck me odd (everyone was instructed to go to the bathroom before we crossed the street from our home to our church), so I didn’t know why Dad left. I never questioned, though: more important things were on my mind by the end of Mass. It was officially Christmas morning!
It was after 1:00 a.m. when we would finally return to our home. And yet, no one was tired because we knew Santa would have made his delivery.
As anxious as I was to see what Santa had brought, I had to make a detour to our rabbit hutches behind the house. If the animals could all speak at midnight on Christmas Eve, maybe they would still be talking. I had a lot of questions I wanted to ask them and was not going to miss this once-a-year opportunity.
But, the rabbits were both sleeping and not talking. Crestfallen, I went into our house through our back door. As I climbed the steps up the landing to our kitchen, I was reminded that Santa had been there! So I burst through the kitchen and went straight to the living room.
Sure enough, the old red-suited one had been there! The base of the tree was covered with presents. Tom, the oldest brother, got to be Santa’s helper, and started passing out the gifts. Mom opened her O’Henry bars, Dad tried out his pipe, Jim looked over his model and Tom thanked me for the Packer magazine. Joe liked his pennies but was puzzled by “his” wagon set. I reminded him how cool it would be if Santa brought me a Fort Apache. He went along with the explanation as Tom pulled a big box out from behind the couch…I knew it was for me…I knew what was inside.
The only thing better than having big brothers is probably having a little brother. All three of my brothers left their own presents to join me on the floor as I opened the box. Each one assumed a role in assembling some aspect of the Fort. We showed each other cool aspects like the black cannon that fired little projectiles, the detail of the soldiers’ weapons and the tin, litho-printed officer’s quarters with a tower that could accommodate a sharpshooter. The four of us put it together and quickly set up the first defense of Fort Apache from attack.
Joe opened up “his” wagons and drove them into the midst of the ongoing battle between cavalry soldiers and Apaches. Safely passing them through the gate as my brother Tom fired a round from the cannon into the pursuing horde of plastic Natives, Joe rolled over and quietly told me that I could play with his wagons any time I wanted.
The other week, my partner and I were out shopping for Christmas presents for our own kids. We went into a toy store that, in addition to a full stock of current toys, also sells vintage toys. In the back of a case, I spotted the litho-printed, tin building that composed the back wall of a Fort Apache playset.
Being a collector at heart, I immediately started plotting how I could purchase this building to begin reconstructing the playset of my sixth Christmas. It took a few minutes before I realized that I wasn’t interested in collecting MARX playsets or even reassembling a vintage Fort Apache, but rather, was experiencing a strong motive for so much collecting: Nostalgia. I was not as interested in the playset as I was in recapturing the feelings from that sixth Christmas.
It’s been more than twenty years since I last saw my brother Joe. But, as I stated at the beginning of this blog, I am a privileged kid. Not only did I grow up in a “Christmas Story” sort of hometown, I have been blessed with the power to recall many good memories of my brothers, sister and parents who nurtured the goofy interests of the “baby of the family”.
Find warmth in the season and embrace it,
John A-G
Editor, Military Trader and Military Vehicles Magazine
Tuesday, December 15, 2009 6:26:19 PM (GMT Standard Time, UTC+00:00)
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Wednesday, December 02, 2009
Private ownership versus public sentiment
Posted by John
Greetings,
Recently, Cowan’s Auction offered a silver tea service salvaged from the U.S.S. Arizona. Even though owner Wes Cowan touted the set as one of the top 10 auction highlights of 2009 with an estimated sale price of $15,000-$20,000, he bowed to pressure from U.S. Navy lawyers and withdrew the items before the sale commenced.
Let’s look at the facts:
• The items were salvaged during the war by Navy diver Carl Webster Keenum, who apparently kept the items while recovering remains, weapons, oil and other debris from the sunken ship.
• President Dwight D. Eisenhower approved the creation of the U.S.S. Arizona Memorial in 1958. Its construction was completed in 1961 with public funds appropriated by Congress and private donations. The Memorial was dedicated in 1962.
• The Arizona Memorial was listed on the National Register of Historic Places on October 15, 1966. While the actual wreck of the U.S.S. Arizona was declared a National Historic Landmark in 1989, the Memorial itself does not share in this status. Rather, it is listed separately from the wreck on the National Register of Historic Places. The joint administration of the Memorial by the United States Navy and the National Park Service was established on September 9, 1980.
So there you have it...the silver from the Arizona was salvaged by a diver during the War, long before the sunken ship was declared a national cemetery or a memorial. The silver is not unlike most other relics brought home by veterans. It just so happened that it came from a place that later became sacred in our nation’s collective view.
The question that seems apparent is this: “Should private ownership be trumped by popular sentiment?” What if a WWII Jeep found in a barn belonged to General Patton? Should the finder be compelled to hand it over to the government? What if, through research, a gun collector discovers the Colt .45 a soldier snuck into his duffle bag was the pistol Col. James Earl Rudder carried when he led elements of the 2nd Rangers up the cliffs of Pointe du Hoc. Should he be forced to return it to the government? Should souvenirs pulled from a wreck that turned out to be WWI flying ace Frank Luke’s airplane not be allowed to remain in private hands?
The government operates under the thought that they own all of it unless you can prove transfer to private hands. Most collectors quietly acknowledge that proof of transfer from the government is generally lacking on the vast majority of what we collect, but with the lapse of 60 years, the Feds are unlikely to bother coming after anyone.
So why did Cowan pull the silver set? In a statement, Cowan said the gallery had withdrawn the items and urged the Keenum family to donate them to the U.S.S. Arizona Memorial Visitor Center. However, Mr. Cowan is no fool when it comes to business. The potential commission on the sale would be a little over $5,000 (both buyer and seller commissions on the low estimate of $15,000). Surely he considered that amount to be too small to warrant facing the world of fallout had he proceeded with the sale.
Navy spokesman, Bill Doughty, said lawyers were reviewing the matter, explaining that "U.S. Navy craft and their associated contents remain the property of the U.S. Navy unless expressly abandoned or title is transferred by appropriate U.S. government authority." Property rights are established in the U.S. Constitution and international maritime law.
With that sort of comment from the Navy, I can understand why Cowan decided not to fight! But the implications to the health of our hobby are resounding. His recommendation to “donate them to the U.S.S. Arizona” is a slap in the face of all his customers. If the Memorial wants the items, they should have stepped up to the plate and bid just like any other collector.
John Adams-Graf
Editor, MT and MVM
Wednesday, December 02, 2009 10:28:34 PM (GMT Standard Time, UTC+00:00)
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Tuesday, November 17, 2009
Recession? What Recession?
Posted by John
Greetings,
Trends in the militaria hobby are tough enough to track without throwing a recession into the mix. As peoples’ 401Ks disappeared, banks closed and houses lost value during the first half of 2009, the militaria hobby just kept chugging along. But by the time of the MAX show, it appeared as though many military collectors had actually experienced tight times or at minimum, gave into the fears promoted through an endless doomed prognostication by popular media outlets. The buying and selling had perceptibly slowed.
Even I have backed off my collecting a little, even though my income hasn’t changed (and my 401K is rebounding). Nevertheless, the cloud of gloom seems to have swept through the hobby and not many of us have been able to ignore it.
Decisions, decisions
As a collector, you know how hard it is to make the “right” decision. I was faced with this ogre a couple of weeks ago. A fantastic WWI Tank Corps uniform group came available for sale that clearly documented a rare variant insignia. The set was comprised of a couple of tunics and an overcoat--all three pieces with the scarce insignia and clearly identified. In normal times, I would not have hesitated.
But these are not normal times. In more than 30 years of collecting, I don’t remember an economically ambiguous outlook like this one (granted, the last time we were in a recession, I didn’t make enough money for it to really matter!).
I was faced with the decision, “Do I save my money for Christmas presents or do I drop a couple of thousand on this uniform set?”
Time to Buy
Anyone who has studied basic economics knows that in a recession is the time to buy; not gold or precious metals (historically, these spike in a recession and then drop as the economy recovers). But rather, other tangible assets. In a recession, someone is always hurting and needs to raise cash. That means they are more willing to sell something than when times are more stable.
Smart dealers know how to survive these times. It is a delicate balance of knowing what to sell off to raise cash and where to spend that new money on profit-rich material.
What to Buy
The military vehicle market has been real soft for the last 12-16 months. If you were ever thinking of buying a WWII Jeep or a 2-1/2-ton truck, now is the time to do it. There are a lot on the market, you can pick and choose, and just like in the housing market, you won’t have to pay the “asking price”.
Likewise, now is the time to buy that “big ticket” item you always wanted. The competition for it is going to be less than during normal economic times, so the chance for you to get a deal is much better right now. When times are tough is not the time to stop buying.
So what did I decide on the Tank Corps group? My income isn’t off that much from last year, it fit my collecting mission and was a high quality “big ticket” item. Nevertheless, I didn’t follow my own advice.
It’s a hard one to explain. I don’t know that I can. But I will try.
As I have collected Tank Corps stuff over the past few years, I have really tried to adhere to a collecting “mission statement” which is, “Collect and display items that tell the story of the birth of the Tank Corps and its combat history in WWI”. Reminding myself of that mission keeps me from buying every collar disk or Tank Corps patch that I see. Before I make a purchase, I try to remember to ask myself, “Does this further the mission?” I have simplified the question to, “Does this item make me any smarter?”
So, when the group came up for sale, I asked myself, “Does this group further the mission?” Yes, it did. Then I asked, “Does it make me any smarter?” And that is where I stumbled. I already own a tunic with the same insignia and I already knew what formation the unique insignia represented. The set that was for sale only reinforced what I already knew. Furthermore, the unit represented, though a Tank Corps formation, did not receive any tanks until after the Armistice. Yes, it was a Tank Corps unit, but far from the most interesting unit!
And then, there is Christmas. I joke about how collecting is a “sickness”, but having been treated many years ago, I know that it really is one...if it controls you. Making the decision to spend money to buy a dead man’s uniform seemed just a bit off center to me when I considered what I could do for my daughter as she starts off her adult life.
So, despite my own collecting advice, I let that uniform slip away. Another collector bought it and added it to his Tank Corps collection. And late at night, I grind my teeth just a little bit. But I bet my daughter will be smiling on Christmas morning.
Preserve the record,
John Adams-Graf
Editor, Military Trader and Military Vehicles Magazine
Tuesday, November 17, 2009 10:08:46 PM (GMT Standard Time, UTC+00:00)
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