Sunday, January 31, 2010

British Mk V "turtle shell"

Handsome, unusual, and needing occasional improvement.

 No, not me,  I'm talking about the British family of "turtleshell" helmets.  Beginning with the Mk3 in 1944 all the way up to the mk5 of the 1980s, this helmet had a longevity very similar to the venerable U.S. M1, and it took only a little bit of tinkering to get this one right.



This is my newly acquired Mk 5, unissued and quite beautiful.



A distinctive profile, quite unique in the history of modern armor...



though not without precedent in antiquity:

 (go here for more pix of this gem)



The distinctive profile immediately makes clear how it came across its reptilian sobriquet.




 Any questions?



This helmet is large, with a flaring rim and a fairly deep seat for the head allowing good protection and deflection of debris and low-velocity schrapnel.



Tricked out here, with a net this Mk 5 is in a flat green, non-reflective paint.



The liner and rivet placement are what charaterize the Mk5 turtleshell from its earlier variations.



The "lift the dot" fastner is the same as the earlier MkIV version.  That stud in the very center is connected to the shell  and is firmly grasped by the spring-loaded grommet, connected to the liner suspension.  When the two are snapped together they are  firmly secured together.


The stud with the liner removed,  When I was in Kindergarten, one of my playmates (currently incarcerated at Southern Michigan Prison serving a life sentence) brought in a Mk IV helmet claiming it was the one his brother wore as an "armyman".  Enjoying helmets since infancy, it stuck me as odd that the brother of this tot fro Michigan US of A would be wearing a helmet so unlike what our other GI dads had worn, nonetheless,  I asked to try it on.

I found it immediately and singularly uncomfortable, even painful, and wondered how they could fight with such discomfort.  If you havn't guessed by now, it was sans liner.  I also think my little friend was, early on exhibiting a difficulty in distinguishing reality from fantasy, a difficulty which would ill-serve him as a criminally impetuous eighteen year-old with a hammer.

Though, I digress.  Below is pictured the other end of the stud as it emerges from and is peened over in the dimple at the very dome of the shell.



 Earlier versions of this helmet had a fairly rudimentary liner, evidenced by the side-by-side comparison below, with MkIV on the left and MkV on the right.

 A shortcoming of this liner/suspension system utilizing the single point attachment became apparent when any shrinkage, caused by drying of the rubber bumpers, friction-gripping it to the shell, would cause the liner to become of an incrementally smaller circumference than the shell.  This would have the embarassing result of Tommy Atkins, if without his chinstrap in place,  turning his head quickly over his shoulder while his helmet shell, bound by the law of inertia, would still be looking forward, wondering what all the fuss was about.

And the nature of that rubber is prone to gradual shrinkage and eventual self-destruction as seen below.


This cross-piece was once as hale and hearty as the modern version.  This phenomonon of self-destruction is, in the museum industry, termed "inheirent vice".  Many volatile types of hard and sponge rubber used in helmets are subject to this inevitable and unstoppable manifestation of entropy.  Have I mentioned my knees?

Below is a close up of that rudimentary MkIV liner...


in all of its oilcloth glory.




Here, then, is the much more comfortable MkV liner.  The stockinette grips the wearers head and could even be termed "cozy"

Now for those helmet-investors out there, you may wish to avert your eyes as this is the moment where everything gets, carefully, taken apart for the edification and instruction of those new to the hobby.



With the headband removed the suspension becomes apparent.



The helmet is entirely soldier-proofed indicating what is to be lifted and with redundancy regarding the "front" of the suspension...


as well as the headband.


The markings on this particular liner are delightfully crisp, with date, size, manufacturer and broad arrow.



The liner is comfortable and well padded...


and snaps out completely allowing the wearer to shake out dirt, bugs, and debris.



The suspension straps are comprised of very durable water-resistant cardboard.



The rubber spacers which provide the critical distance between the shell and the wearer's skull are glued to the ends of the straps.





The elasticized chin strap is essentially unchanged from earlier versions of this helmet, in both material, adjustment...



and the manner in which it is secured to the shell.  It is this chinstrap which keeps the wearer and the helmet looking in the same direction at all times.


It is also well marked...


as are all of the componenents of this outstanding example.



The helmet rim is neatly butt jointed on the rear skirt of the shell.


And finally,  the shell itself has very clear manufacturers markings.  Note that this lid shares the same birth date as yours truly.  We should all look so good.


With the advent of composite and ballistic plastic armor, the sun has finally set on the British Empire's last steel helmet.

"So long" to the age of steel.


See you next time with another cool helmet from the collection.

Mannie

Sunday, January 24, 2010

German M.42 steel helmet of World War Two

"Among my Souvenirs"


Recently, the collection acquired its 140th helmet; a Nazi German M.42.  The helmet is a garden variety "raw edge" from the late war period.  As helmets go is is a very nice specimen, as artifacts go it might seem singularly ordinary, as is the nature of all artifacts, however, what sets this object above the "ordinary" is that it is connected to a personal story.  It is only through a connection to people that artifacts have any value at all.

This is David Langbart, the donor of that most recent acquisition the German M.42 which he is shown holding.


He generously presented me not only the helmet as a gift, but also the story of the man who brought that helmet home from WWII, David's father...



Pfc. Joseph Langbart, U.S. Army
(This may, by the way, be the only photograph I've ever seen of a soldier actually having the leather chinstrap of his helmet liner deployed as a chinstrap.)


Joseph
Langbart was a member of the 99th Infantry Division, the so-called "Battle
Babies" of the Bulge owing to their rookie status as they were rushed into
harm's way.

Langbart, a member of the Cornell University class of 1943 (as was fellow-GI Kurt Vonnegut), enlisted in the U.S. Army and went overseas in 1944, just in time for the
last great German offensive of the war, "The Battle of the Bulge".  

With his division thrown into line at the Elsenborn Ridge in Belgium, Langbart, as an artilleryman of the Headquarters and Headquarters Battery Division Artillery, reported that the Bulge represented the only time he actually saw what he was shooting at, so close was the proximity of the Germans to the howitzers of Langbart's battery.

The German offensive extinguished, the Americans and their allies continued the relentless push into Germany with the 99th Infantry Division, the first complete Allied division to cross the Rhine River, at Remagen, and winning the race to Bavaria.

(insignia of the 99th Infantry Division)

Upon the allied victory, Langbart spent some time on occupation duty prior to returning home and back to a law degree from Cornell in 1948 followed by a long career of public service as a government attorney at the Department of Justice, the Federal Communications Commission, and the Department of Labor, retiring as an administrative law judge adjudicating cases of coal mine health and safety.
As have so many of the World War Two generation, Joseph Langbart only recently passed on, much missed by family, friends, and associates.  He is representative of a generation of men, and women, to whom following generations owe a great debt.


The youthful Joseph Langbart also shared a trait of all young Americans in all wars since the revolution, a trait celebrated in prose and cartoon by the likes of Ernie Pyle and Bill Mauldin...


the collecting of souvenirs.





Here then, is one of Joseph Langbart's souvenirs of the war that defined the 20th Century, the German M.42 steel helmet.



This is a late-war M.42 finished in field grey without decals.




Note the "raw edge" one of the features that characterized the M.42 and distinguishes it from the M.40 and M.35, both of which have the more finished-looking "rolled edge".




That raw edge, as well as the stamped ventilation hole (contrasted with the applied ventilation rivet of the M.35) are emblematic of the declining fortunes of the Third Reich as the tides of war were turning against Hitler and his evil minions.





The Nazi industrial base was becoming overtaxed by a multi-front war and impoverished by dwindling resources.






Mechanically rolling over the edge of a helmet brim and applying a machined ventilation washer represented additional steps in the manufacturing process that the German war machine could ill-afford.




Just as Hitler was rushing children to the front as soldiers, so too was the German armaments industry rushing simplified, cheaper to produce helmets into the ranks of the armed forces.  Though the M.42 was cheaper to produce it was still an exceptionally well designed helmet and one which provided superior protection for the wearer.




From the top the condition of the paint is shown to good effect.  A moderately thin application of greenish-grey that is about 80% intact with only scattered areas of very light surface rust.




The liner and chinstrap are quite complete, and, as with all German lids, this one is abundantly marked.



The size is stamped into the liner band, along with...



the manufacturer as well as the date of manufacture of the liner.



Not believing anything can be overstated, an additional size stamp appears on the liner band...




and on one of the leather leaves of the liner itself.  Note the original drawstring, in very fine condition.


Another ink stamping appears underneath the leather though I'm not able to make it out.


The size of the shell, E.T.64, is stamped inside the flare of the brim.


The name, rank, and number of the original owner appear to the rear of the flare along with the stamping "D412", the significance of which is unknown to me (can readers shed any light here?)




The leather of the liner is affixed to the liner band with several split pins.




Save for one worn and split area to the rear, this liner is in generally very good condition...



and a very nice addition to the collection





Many thanks to friend and donor David Langbart for this fine helmet. and many more to his father and millions like him for this future which their sacrifices secured for the rest of us.




See you next time with another helmet from the collection.

Mannie