Mannie Gentile: Combat Helmets of the 20th Century

A Veterans Day visit with the last Doughboy, Frank Buckles

noreply@blogger.com (Mannie Gentile) — Wed, 11 Nov 2009 20:44:00 +0000

Today I was able to take this old veteran of the trenches of the Great War, my 32nd Division M.1917, and go down the valley and across the river to visit Mr. Frank Buckles, America's sole surviving veteran of The Great War.

The helmet brought back memories of Mr. Buckles 11 months "over there".

(photo: David DeJonge)

to see a glimpse of the visit click here.

A hale and hearty Frank Buckles in 1917. Today, at 108 years of age Mr. Buckles is a delightful person and a gracious host. It was a real pleasure to visit him, and such a surprise to find that he lives only 25 minutes from my door!

Following Armistice Day, Mr. Buckles enjoyed a prosperous career working for various steamship lines and in that capacity ended up in the Philippines in 1941. Although no longer a fighting man, Mr. Buckles was imprisioned by the Japanese and held, under grueling conditions, until his rescue in 1945 by those doughboys of a later generation, the American G.I.s

Happy Veterans Day Mr. Buckles!

To learn more about Mr. Buckles and the World War One Memorial restoration efforts, link here

2009 MAX Show

noreply@blogger.com (Mannie Gentile) — Sun, 04 Oct 2009 03:28:00 +0000

Bring Money!

I went to the 2009 Military Antiques Extravaganza in Monroeville Pennsylvania this weekend.

Goodness! Extravaganza is right. What a show.

Comprised of mostly top-of-the line objects with few fakes, most notably the one below:

WWII German lid with a post-war liner. An oddly obvious attempt at subterfuge at such a prestigious show (and dig that crazy chinstrap bail).

The organizers of this show strive for authenticity of objects and they seem to do a pretty good job of policing their dealers. About the only thing bogus at this show were the prices. Generally unrealistic asking prices seemed to be the order of the day, flying in the face of not only the current economy but also the realities of ebay. Obviously this show's for the hoity-toity, not for the hoi-polloi such as I.

It is Nazi heavy in artifacts. I saw but one South American helmet, a Peruvian Adrian, and there were no Scandinavian, Asian, or Cold War Eastern Bloc helmets to be found. Anyone hoping to score modern ballistic plastic and composite helmets would have similarly found themselves out of luck.

Helmet-wise this show consisted of, in ascending order, WWII Russian, Japanese, Picklehauben, U.S. M1s, and Nazi German lids. I was in a sea of swastikas, to the point of creepiness.

Interestingly enough I saw almost no money changing hands, at least not on Saturday. Perhaps this was a reflection of general economic hard times, or simply the unrealistic asking prices on most of the items. Leaving me to wonder exactly who the target clientele was supposed to be:

deep-pocketed bunker decorators? rubes? overeager monied beginners? neo-nazis? Mel Brooks? (click the link, you'll be glad you did)

Crazy daddy-o!

Nonetheless it was worth seeing... once.

You can watch my low-resolution video below, thus saving a trip to Monroeville (you'll thank me for that).

Keep your sense of humor and keep on collecting!

Mannie

From Before the time of Modern Helmets

noreply@blogger.com (Mannie Gentile) — Tue, 22 Sep 2009 03:36:00 +0000

Here's a video I put together of a remarkable event that I attended one week ago. It's a short reminder of service, sacrifice, and the dignity we can bring to remembrance.

Go here to view.

German M.1916 "high visor"

noreply@blogger.com (Mannie Gentile) — Sat, 12 Sep 2009 07:51:00 +0000

Never pass up a dumpster.

Here's the sort of story we all hope to be involved in personally.

First, the helmet. New to my collection is this very nice WWI German M.1916

A fine specimen of that most iconic of early 29th century lids.

Although sans liner, the gray/green paint is about 90% present.

That dramatic Teutonic profile always makes me just a touch uneasy.

With a pleasing patina, this helmet seems to have been, until recently, treated very well,

until it was quite unceremoniously pitched into a dumpster and headed for a Western Maryland landfill.

Then, this young man came along to change the outcome of the story.

This is my friend Jim. Jim is a motorhead in the best sense of the word. He has a passion for, and is very handy with, automobiles. With the budgetary constraints of most 18 year-olds with sensible parents, Jim has to use creative - though legal - means to acquire usable spare parts for whatever vehicle he's currently working on. Those means include occasional "dumpster diving".

Jim was diving a dumpster that was shared by an auto repair shop as well as an antique store. Imagine young Jim's surprise when he emerged from said dumpster not with an exhaust manifold, fan shroud, or hood strut, but this very nice old soldier from the trenches of WWI.

And imagine my surprise when this fine young man recently gave it to me to add to my collection!

Acquired just two weeks ago this lid may turn out to be a favorite. I already have a nice garden-variety M.1917 which, unlike this one, still has most of its liner (check it out here). Otherwise the two helmets are nearly identical.

The dome stamp "R440" is quite crisp and the intact paint is shown here to good effect.

Though no liner or chinstrap are present, there is still a single strap fastener end.

The characteristic lugs are quite crisp with nice squared, sharply defined edges...

and are still very tightly secured with a large washer on the inside of the shell.

All split rivets are present...

and in very good condition.

As my M.1917 this is size E.T. 64, visible here on the side skirt and...

as a ghost image, here on the exterior. Some stamping mill!

All in all a delightful piece, though no standout until I set it on a level surface facing my M.1917:

voila! The storied "high-visor" early production version of the M.1916.

Thanks Jim, for bringing something new, and special, to my collection.

And thanks Olaf for the comment below which prompted me to view this lid as an M.1916 rather than an M.1917!

M1917-A1 Every dog has its day

noreply@blogger.com (Mannie Gentile) — Fri, 31 Jul 2009 15:20:00 +0000

Sometimes even a stop-gap like the M1917-A1 can have its day in the sun.

The penny-pinching War Department, whilst searching for a suitable replacement for the WW1 M-1917, had, by 1936, issued a field modification for that helmet consisting of a new liner, suspension, and chinstrap, designated the M1917-A1.

For a nation plunged into a war it was all but unprepared for, the M1917-A1 was a slightly improved incarnation of the helmet worn by GI's doughboy fathers, the M1917. With a vastly improved liner and chinstrap, this "tin derby" was nonetheless obsolete as the first bombs were falling on Pearl Harbor and was nothing more than a stopgap until the M1 helmet could reach full production.

Though originally merely an upgrade of the M1917, in 1940 nearly a million new M1917 style shells with the 1936 liners were produced and issued to the troops in all branches. Otherwise the troops were using the upgraded lids from WW1.

During America's darkest days in World War Two the M1917-A1 was the helmet used by US forces. Morale boosting movies like "Wake Island" and "Bataan" Featured big names like Brian Donlevey, Robert Preston, and Robert Taylor, with strong supporting roles provided by the M1917-A1

The lighting was always so perfect in the Pacific theater

However, one didn't need to look to Hollywood for inspiration. Real heroes in M1917-A1s were out there fighting and winning. These sailors of the USS Ward pose for cameras after sinking a Japanese mini sub during the Pearl Harbor attack.

Courage alone, however was not going to stop the inevitable.

An American GI and his Phillippine counterpart, armed for bear and sporting the M1917-A1, will be eventually succumb to Japanese gunfire, disease, and near starvation.

Sadly their efforts to hold the line against the Japanese juggernaut in the Pacific ended at best like this:

Or at worst, as the victims of their captors' barbarity. These were the days when the Japanese routinely hacked prisoners to death, a practice they now reserve for dolphins.

These two Depression-era infantrymen undergoing basic training before the war are training with the weapons and helmets of an earlier war. Military preparedness was eschewed by the peace-time populace, and the country was caught flat-footed when the shooting began.

Here, then is an old soldier in my collection, in issued, though outstanding, condition.

The shell is that of the M1917. No big surprises there. The difference is revealed when one looks under the lid...

and beholds this effective, and elegant suspension and liner, a marvel of steel, leather, and canvas webbing.

The top view demonstrates the new Olive Drab color that became standard for U.S. ground forces.

The handsome blackened nut secures the suspension to the shell. The sawdust-textured paint is also shown to good effect in this picture.

The number is a reminder of a much tinier U.S. military, the pre-war forces, when materiel was a precious and limited commodity, always to be inventoried, accounted for, and returned to the proper hook, slot, or rack.

The rim is joined more in the British-style rather than the American that characterized the WWI versions of this lid.

Close-up of simple, though, vast improvements over the old M1917. The bail affixed to the shell has the same function as that of the M1917 in that the chinstrap merely passes through it rather than attaches to it, but we get our first hint of the engineering and materials that will make this suspension so superior to it's WWI uncle.

High-grade leather in four leaves comprises the contact area for the wearer's head, depth adjustable with grommets and a leather thong.

The liner is suspended on steel bands which are lightweight but sturdy, unlike the fragile single leather strap that the entire chinstrap and liner of the M1917 depended upon. In the very dome is a padded leather pillow. This is a very comfortable, effective, and adjustable liner, providing excellent padding and the crucial spacing between the shell of the helmet and the head of the wearer.

This nice, crisp ordnance marking resides under the front leaf of the liner.

The high quality of the materials and manufacture is evident in this view.

Untying the crown pad reveals another ordnance stamp as well as the intersection of the steel supension bands and the securing screw.

As one examines the fine leather work of this liner the expense becomes apparent.

This marking, the number 20, is the only stamping I've found on the shell.

The attractive blackened brass "hook and arrow" fastener will survive this model helmet and campaign on with the M1.

As in its pre-war days, this helmet has a number once again, though this time it's for purposes of cataloging and curating.

And when is a curator a bad role model?

... when he can't resist trying things on, that's when!

See you next time with another helmet from the collection, until then, comments, questions, and corrections are always welcomed.

Mannie

provenance:
accession number: MOA hmar282.78.27
United States M1917-A1 steel helmet
Acquired 1984, Lansing Michigan
Purchase price :$30.00
Condition: excellent

Making Lemonade

noreply@blogger.com (Mannie Gentile) — Thu, 30 Jul 2009 22:37:00 +0000

For the benefit of my non-North American readers let me explain this American bromide:

When life hands you lemons, make lemonade.

That is to say; Try to make the best of a bad situation.

Recently I find myself living alone in my home, an unwelcome, and unexpected ending to what I thought was a happy marriage. That bad situation - the lemons- resulted in a great deal of sadness, angst, emptiness and disappointment on my part, not to mention a paucity of posting to this blog.

Fortunately, as time passes, I'm finding ways to meaningfully fill the empty hours and emptier house. Enter the "lemonade".

A formerly underutilized room has been, over the past four days, transformed into...

my American helmet gallery.

Helmets from other nations still reside in the next room as they have for about a year now. At this point all but three of my 134 helmets are out on display.

I hope, in this new space, to produce another helmet Youtube focusing on the M1 helmet. I'll be sure to post the link to it on this blog. But that, like so many other things, remains in the misty future.

Staying optimistic and still collecting,

Mannie

Life on tap, blog on hold

noreply@blogger.com (Mannie Gentile) — Thu, 09 Jul 2009 00:37:00 +0000

Dear readers,

Personal events have intervened to distract me from maintaining this blog in a regular manner. I hope to get back at it sooner rather than later.

I appreciate the folks who have regularly stopped by, and look forward to brighter (helmet-filled) days.

Mannie

U.S. Navy M1 Radioman Helmet 1974

noreply@blogger.com (Mannie Gentile) — Mon, 25 May 2009 15:27:00 +0000

If helmets could talk...
would we even believe what they had to say?

Here is my U.S.Navy M1 helmet with radioman insignia. It was brought home in my seabag at the end of a four-year hitch in the Navy many (many) years ago.

Unlike other branches of the military, on a Navy ship in the 1960s and 70s one was not issued a helmet, one merely had ready access to a stack of helmets that would be worn during General Quarters or Battle Stations. The Radio compartments that I served in had such stacks, and this is one of those helmets that I may or may not have worn over the course of my time on the ship. This particular helmet is from the destroyer U.S.S. Higbee (DD-806) my last ship I served on, and, consequently, my last opportunity to grab "my" helmet before leaving the ship for the final time in July of 1974.

Many M1s, during the lifetime of their use, were marked by the sailors who wore them at some point. The "sparks" of a Radioman's rating badge reference the shower of sparks that were produced by the old open-ocillator telegraph keys of the old days. By the time I was in Morse code was seldom used anymore but the symbolism remained in our insignia.

These stacks of "ships company" helmets throughout the ship had probably been aboard for the life of the ship, which is why it seemed there were always more helmets than sailors as the crew strength for the Higbee during World War Two was considerably larger that that of 1973-74. Nonetheless, these old M1s represented (for those of us who were thinking about it) an unbroken line of continuity between us and our shipmates of earlier decades.

The liner of "my" helmet is a war-time Firestone...

as indicated by the distinctive "F" logo in the dome.

The shell itself, typically for USN helmets, is a Schleuter, and the front-joined rim seam indicates WWII production.

The swivel bails have the earlier bar-tacked chinstraps, this one looking pretty "salty".

With the dark gray liner this helmet is nearly complete save for the leather liner chinstrap.

I enjoyed much of my time aboard both of my destroyers mainly because of the great bunch of shipmates I was serving with. And here is a very short, very true story of those days, which I hope you enjoy.

That's me, bottom row, center

One of my favorite, and funniest, memories of my first ship, the destroyer USS DeHaven (DD-727), comes from a time when things in the Navy were not particularly jolly. The war in Vietnam were winding down for the U.S., the gap between civilians and service members was widening, and there seemed to be a growing hostility between the four-year enlistment sailors and the career men, also known as "the lifers".

This was also a time when drug and alcohol abuse was rampant throughout the services, and the 727 was a microcosm of the Navy and many of its problems in those dreary days. That's the deep background to provide some context for this story.

Some time in 1972 we were tied up, as usual, along piers 17 and 18 out on the mole at Naval Station Long Beach (California). It was a typical duty evening on an in-port weekend.

I was the duty Radioman (RM3c) having a pretty laid-back evening. We didn't have the radio guard so I had little to do but read. I was still a new guy and was having only limited success making friends with guys in other divisions (remember being the "new guy"?).

Along about eight in the evening my boss, and a pretty good guy, the RM1 of the shack came zooming onto the messdecks with a battle lantern ...looking for me. My boss was the duty Master at Arms (the ship's policeman) that night, resplendent in his new style utilities (those dreadful duds with which they tried to replace the good old dungarees) and his dazzling MAA badge.

"Mannie" he said breathlessly, "come with me".

Now, I was a sailor who was always ready to oblige a shipmate, so without question or hesitation I followed my RM1 off the messdecks up to the radioshack. "What's up boss?" was my only question. He made a finger to the lips gesture to clue me to pipe down and scowled, and sniffed, at the overhead ventilation duct.

"Do you smell that shit?" he whispered. "That's 'green smoke', and it can only be coming from one place". A historical note: For some reason, there were those among the senior enlisted who referred to marijuana smoke and the smell thereof as "green smoke". I even met those who insisted that it was called that because the smoke of burning cannabis is emerald green. Obviously, they'd never imbibed themselves.

Back to the story. The RM1 moved his intent gaze to me and repeated "there's only one place that that smell can be coming from. Someone's smoking dope in OUR fanroom!". There was a fanroom just abaft the radioshack on the starboard side. Accessible only with a stepladder through a scuttle in the overhead, it was a space the RMs referred to as "the void" and it was where we stored our supply of teletype paper and tape. For inspection purposes it was the radio crew's property and responsibility. "Let's go!" hissed the RM1 as he handed me that battle lantern and pushed me out the door of the radio shack ahead of him. Had I been a cartoon character at that moment my word balloon would have said something like "buh, buh, buh...ahhh wait a second".

Off we went into the dark of the night, the RM1 becoming quite impatient with all of the noise I made as I clumsily followed him. "Quiet! or they'll know we're coming" he whispered. "That's, sort of the whole idea" I thought to myself.

We made our way to the main deck, me with the lantern and the RM1 armed with a rickety stepladder which he quietly set up beneath the scuttle. "Now get up there and bust those guys" he said to me. At that time I was choosing to believe it was merely a request rather than an order. "But boss," I protested, "these are guys that I have to live and work with, and I've got no beef with them, cause, y'know..." It was as if he hadn't heard me, like a fine hunting dog on the point he was intently staring at that overhead scuttle and just as intently pushing me up the ladder.

The "why me?" question was simply one of girth. Without commenting on the robust build of the RM1, I'll just note that at that time in my life my broadest dimension was my post-adolescent Adams apple:

I was the logical choice to go through the scuttle and into the Babylon above. This was to be my show.

With my head pressed nearly sideways against the overhead as I wrestled with the dog-wheel I could hear indistinct murmuring coming from the space. As the dogs retracted, I slowly swung the hatch down, swallowed hard and poked my head up. The experience was unlike any I've had before or since. If one could stick ones head inside a bong at a frat-party, that might approximate the sensation I had. As my nostrils cleared the coaming of the hatch I became immediately aware of an all too familiar aroma...in spades! That was one very smoky space and because it was a fan room, that smoke was being communicated throughout quite a bit of the ship.

"I don't see anybody boss" was my very lame report. "Jeezus! use the lantern!" he shouted (the need for stealth was now past). I craned my head over and squeezed my arm and the battle lantern through. I snapped on the light, the beam of which became a ghostly and thick illumination of smoke. My head poking through the scuttle, eyes only inches above the deck, I slowly played the beam 360 degrees around the space level with my eyes.

That smoky beam revealed fully a dozen pairs of shoes; oxfords, boondockers, flipflops, all attached to pantlegs that extended up into the faceless gloom. The sound was that of breath being held by twelve shipmates caught red-handed (though all I saw was ankles).

"Well?" was the sharp one word question from below. Now, remember, I was a sailor who was always ready to oblige a shipmate, so again, without question or hesitation, and with great presence of mind I gave my report:

"They musta' just left boss. Nothing up here but teletype paper."

"Dammit!, we shoulda' come quicker!". Clearly disappointed at losing his quarry, he stomped off into the night looking for other crime to fight, leaving me to secure the void, the ladder, and the lantern.

I returned to the messdecks and my book and business as usual, being the new guy, trying to find my way on a ship where everybody else seemed to be friends with everybody else. Except that it was never business as usual again after that evening.

No sooner had I gotten settled in and resumed reading, than a mix of snipes and deck division types slid in next to me and one piped up: "So Gentile, you just got off Guam eh? Whatcha readin'?". And a lively, breezy bull-session began, of which I was a full partner. Eventually every one trailed off to hit the rack or relieve the watch. I realized that my status as the new guy was coming to a welcome end.

"What a great bunch of guys" I thought, "a great bunch of bleary-eyed guys who smell like they've been fighting a brush fire".

And the rest was pretty smooth sailing.

provenance:
accession number: MOAharm 195.v2
United States Navy M1 Helmet (Radioman)
Acquired 1974, USS Higbee (DD-806) Long Beach, California
Condition: good

Hiatus

noreply@blogger.com (Mannie Gentile) — Sat, 11 Apr 2009 01:50:00 +0000

I need to take some time off from blogging for a while.

See you down the road a piece.

Mannie

U.S. Navy M1 Assault Boat Coxswain Helmet

noreply@blogger.com (Mannie Gentile) — Sat, 04 Apr 2009 15:26:00 +0000

Away all Boats!

As a kid I became enamored with the idea of being an assault boat coxswain. this was after reading the book, and seeing the Jeff Chandler movie Away all Boats. Years later the Navy, in its wisdom, would assign my non-technically-minded self to radioman school. Nonetheless I did manage to secure this M1 shell from a colleague on an Attack transport.

Finished in haze-gray with the assault boat coxswain logo stenciled on the front, this is a particularly nice example of a Navy M1 from the early 1960s.

Contrasted against the sky one can readily see the thinking behind haze-gray for Navy ships.

Close-up of the swivel bail and fastener for the T-1 chinstrap assembly.

The front seam in the rim indicates that this helmet was produced in the first half of WWII.

Like most M1s this on would see decades of service.

The assault boat coxswain logo is comprised of crossed anchors and a harpoon point. This version has unusually textured, or "alligatored" paint.

This chinstrap appears to have been a late replacement in the working career of this lid.

Nearly all of my Navy M1s are Schleuters, this one however is a McCord shell, above is the "heat of the steel" number.

The M1, always a handsome helmet.

provenance:
accession number: MOAhmar 37.13.6
United States Navy assault boat coxswain M1 Helmet
Acquired 1974, Naval Station Long Beach, California
Condition: good

U.S. Navy M1 honor guard helmet

noreply@blogger.com (Mannie Gentile) — Sun, 22 Mar 2009 15:40:00 +0000

A chrome-dome to rival Mr. Clean!

Here's a very showy helmet. A Schleuter, front-seam, swivel bale with Firestone liner all tricked out in chrome and white.

Chrome in such mass has not been seen since the Buicks of the late 1950s!

The leather straps are dyed white.

The shell is marked U.S. Naval Training Center, San Diego (California). This is what really caught my eye when I first saw this lid as I (and zillions of others) am an alum of that august institution by the sea. I attended boot camp at the Recruit Training Command of NTC San Diego as well as Radioman school and teletype repair school.

The liner is nearly as spectacular as the shell. In white, blue, and yellow livery.

The fouled-anchor logo is emblazoned on the front (stenciled).

The purpose of the two grommets is unknown to me. But the grommets represent only the beginning of the chain of mysteries.

Wear is light though appropriate.

The Korean-war era liner interior is complete and quite clean...

with a crisp Firestone logo in the dome.

Both the headband...

and the neckband are marked and somewhat legible.

The butting and spot-welding of the front rim seam are crisp and neatly done.

The custom chinstrap fastens to the interior of the headband with two-position snaps.

And is further adjusted with sliding buckles.

As with nearly all of my Navy M1s this helmet is stamped with the Schleuter "S".

A close-up of one of the mystery grommets. I doubt that these were for ventilation, nor do I think they were to support any screw-back or wire-back insignia (as the insignia is stenciled on). Its a puzzle.

And the puzzle continues thus: when I was a young sailor boy at NTC San Diego I only recall the members of the color guards, the recruit drum and bugle corps, and the fifty-state flag team wearing their typical "white hats". Further, I'm unable to find any photos of NTC personnel tricked-out in chrome helmets.

If anyone can provide this blog with conjecture-free factual information regarding the use of chrome M1s by specialized Navy units I'd would greatly appreciate hearing from you.

Sadly, NTC San Diego was disestablished several years ago with the end of the Cold War and the absence of the Soviet Union as a credible threat and the widespread acceptance of peace, love, justice, brotherhood, and understanding throughout the world.

The threat is long-gone, though the chrome lingers on.

(I'm hoping faithful reader of this blog, Vladimir Putin, is getting a chuckle out of this)

provenance

accession number:

acquired: 2002 West Michigan Regional Gun Show (Grand Rapids, Michigan)

price: $20.00

condition: excellent

U.S. Navy M1 Shore Party Helmet

noreply@blogger.com (Mannie Gentile) — Sun, 01 Mar 2009 16:24:00 +0000

When I first acquired this lid back in 1978, I was unaware of the significance of its distinctive markings, rather, as a recent Navy veteran I was attracted by the bold "USN" motif. Fortunately the dealer at the particular gunshow were I discovered it was equally ignorant of the pedigree of this helmet. I took it home for $14.00.

Probably, not until the film "Saving Private Ryan" did people other than helmet enthusiasts realize the breadth of U.S. Navy representation on the actual beaches of Normandy. U.S. Navy Beach Battalions, Special Naval Amphibious Groups, Navy Engineers, Radiomen and others comprised many of the various "shore parties present during D-day operations.

So as not to be confused with Army personnel, sailors attached to these shore parties wore M1 helmets with distinguishing marks, standardized with at least a gray or blue-gray band painted around the helmet as well as the lettering USN. Other variations are numerous, but generally these two design components were standard, though were applied in manners both precise and haphazard.

This example is a nice halfway meeting between those two extremes, with a rather thin coat of blue-gray paint brushed on in a distinguishing color band around the diameter of the shell with a rather jaunty "USN" hand-lettered, rather than stenciled, on the front in white.

Examples are abundant of Navy M1s with a solid color band as well as a broken-at-the-front band like the one pictured below:

Note that this sailor appears to have hand-lettered his helmet as well as his jacket.

(note the chinstrap in these outdoor shots is not the one which came with the original liner)

I've also seen photographs of the Naval Amphibious Forces insignia included in this marking combination as well as various colored arcs or "rockers" applied to the front designating special purpose personnel. like the shipmate pictured below:

Indeed, one of my favorite things about Navy marked M1s is the dizzying non-standard nature of those markings as demonstrated by these D-Day photos of members of various Navy Beach Battalion members.

Note the sailor on right with a very subdued "USN" applied

Even sailors in the same unit, here Navy engineers, have helmets both stenciled as well as hand lettered.

More variety among the lids of these very relaxed Navy Radiomen.

Do click on all of these photos for much larger views and more detail.

This remarkable action shot from Normandy has Beach Battalion men scrambling for cover. Note the absence of any "USN" on their gray-banded only helmets.

The variations seem nearly endless. Such a delightfully democratic bunch of individualists who brought the Nazi regime to its knees.

Now, more helmet details:

The liner is a Capac in very nice condition. The removable liner of the M1 distinguishes this helmet from all others and gave the American GI a particularly versatile helmet. While wearing the liner the GI could use the helmet shell itself as many things including, a basin, a shovel, a bucket, a chair, a pot for cooking, a pot for less sanitary contingencies, a pillow (and uncomfortable pillow), a footstool, a desk, and...oh yes, a helmet.

This nearly perfectly designed helmet would be in use for some 45 years with American forces and remains the iconic symbol of the American fighting man of the 20th century.

Manufactured by Capac, this particular liner has a small ding in the dome of the liner.

The head band is marked by the manufacturer, in this case, "L&N Specialties".

The "S" on the inside front of the shell indicates that it was manufactured by the Schleuter company as are nearly all of the Navy lids in my collection. Also visible here is the "heat of the steel" stamp.

Close up of the three-point spot-welded swivel bale mounting for the chinstraps.

The front joined seam of the helmet rim indicates that this lid was manufactured prior to 1944.

As with nearly all of my Navy helmets the chinstrap hardware shows the corrosion typical of the shipboard life of a seagoing M1. A little "saltiness" does provide a great deal of character, in helmets as well as in people.

Pictured here is another specialist of the Naval Beach Battalions, in this instance an interpreter interrogating German prisoners.

A handsome helmet in all respects, and a tangible reminder that it wasn't just soldiers who were hitting the beaches in WWII but U.S. Navy sailors as well.

Go Navy.

More Commie mind-games!

noreply@blogger.com (Mannie Gentile) — Wed, 25 Feb 2009 05:20:00 +0000

I may be moderating my anti-Putin hard line regarding the former Soviet Union

Something New

noreply@blogger.com (Mannie Gentile) — Fri, 20 Feb 2009 03:29:00 +0000

Here is a new video I just posted on the Japanese 1930-32:

I hope you enjoy it.

Mannie

(click on the play button)

French model 1915 Adrian Helmet: The Movie

noreply@blogger.com (Mannie Gentile) — Sat, 07 Feb 2009 12:34:00 +0000

"I'm ready for my close-up Mr. DeMille"

I'm taking a short break from Navy M1s to post this recent Youtube production on the "Adrian" helmet of the Great War and beyond. I hope you enjoy it.

U.S. Navy M1 coverage will resume next Sunday.

Keep on collecting!

Mannie

Helmet video

noreply@blogger.com (Mannie Gentile) — Fri, 06 Feb 2009 04:22:00 +0000

I just posted my second helmet video on Youtube.

The subject is the French Model 1915, although lingerie and accordian music are included for the benefit of all.

Watch here

adieu,

Mannie

U.S. Navy M1 Executive Officer's Helmet

noreply@blogger.com (Mannie Gentile) — Sun, 18 Jan 2009 15:24:00 +0000

"The exec is a prick!"
No offense is meant, that's just the way it was back in my Navy. Where the captain played the role of the aloof autocrat the exec was his second in command, his hatchet man, his ass-kicker, his...ahh...vice principal. Yikes!

Here's a surprisingly accurate Hollywood view of how the US Navy marked its M1 helmets. The executive officer ("XO") here, a cranky David Hedison (remember "Voyage to the Bottom of the Sea"?), seems intent on the matter at hand in this still from the movie "The Enemy Below". A somewhat drowsy Robert Mitchum seems to have other things on his mind:

torpedos perhaps? (Sorry moms and dads).

This helmet is the second from the "dumpster collection" series begun last week.

This beauty has seen some hard service as indicated by the multitude of stress cracks as well as the many layers of paint it sports.

This shell, as salvaged, was sans chinstrap. I added this 1972-style chinstrap in later years.

What is it about the M1 that I never get tired of looking at them (sorry if you do).

Note the stress cracks as well as the subsequent rust leeching from below the paint.

More cracks on the side of the shell make it pretty obvious why this helmet was discarded.

Note the zinc chromate primer peeking out, typical of the mid-1970s.

Cracks viewed from the inside of the shell. Also evident are the multiple layers, and hues of, gray paint applied to the shell, somewhat haphazardly.

The "heat of the steel" number appears on the inside front of this McCord manufactured shell.

The rear seam indicates this lid is of post 1944 manufacture.

Close-up of the swivel bail showing quite a bit of "saltiness" contrasted with the fairly ship-shape 1972 chinstrap. Again, to be clear, I added this chinstrap later, merely so the lid would appear as the others in my collection (displayed with chinstraps). Generally destroyer M1s suffered greatly from exposure to salt spray and corrosive gun ash, this pot is no exception.

Very little of the original texture remains, in this instance it appears to be sand which would further identify this shell as being from the very early 1960s as that is the period when sand replaced cork as the texturing material mixed into the paint.

Shipboard M1s carried a variety of markings. Fortuantely (for the collector) for the most part Navy lids were free of mandated marking regulations. Both of the destroyers I was on carried a wide palatte of custom-painted helmets from the staid to the sometimes zany. Similar, I guess to the members of the crew.

Go here for a really cool Youtube featuring the U.S.S. Dehaven (DD-727) my first, and favorite, ship.

Humphrey Bogart and Robert Francis in one of my all-time favorites "The Caine Mutiny".

From destroyer, to dumpster, to Combat Helmets of the 2oth Century...

what a fine looking piece of Hadfield steel!

provenance:
accession number: MOAharmoldv2. 182.2
United States Navy Executive Officer's M1 Helmet
Acquired 1974, Naval Station Long Beach, California
Condition: good

Next week, another cool Navy lid!

Mannie

U.S. Navy M1 Hospital Corpsman Helmet

noreply@blogger.com (Mannie Gentile) — Sun, 18 Jan 2009 15:00:00 +0000

As a young destroyer sailor in the U.S. Navy in 1973 I was homeported in Long Beach California. Several months prior to the end of my enlistment I was hauling a trash can to the dumpster at the end of the pier, and saw some other guys rooting around in the dumpster retrieving stuff. Frequently, especially with the Vietnam war ending and many ships slated for sale or deactivation, lots of materiel was getting "surveyed" (Navy term for "thrown away"). Guys were hauling all kinds of stuff out of that dumpster, including some helmet shells, three of which went into my now empty trash can and then eventually mailed home.

These three shells and the Japanese helmet I found while stationed on Guam (read here) formed the nucleus of what has become my helmet collection. Helmets included the Hospital Corpsman lid featured here as well as a repair party helmet and an executive officer's helmet, both to be profiled later in this series.

A Geneva Cross within a white circle is typical for a shipboard corpsman's helmet, and this one is from the late 1960s early 1970s. Often these helmets were marked "Medical Department", "MED", "HC", or perhaps with the Caduceus insignia, or simply left olive drab or any variety of gray to blueish gray.

Below is yours truly holding a Navy Corpsman's helmet used at Normandy in WWII. The owner was Jay Huston of Grand Rapids Michigan, and the helmet now resides, permanently, in an exhibit at the Public Museum of Grand Rapids, entitled "V is for Veterans" which I curated several years ago.

Note that, save for the stenciled name on the chinstrap, the helmet has no makings at all. As a member of SNAG-2 (Special Naval Assault Group 2) Mr. Huston landed on the beach on D plus one. Jay insisted that no medics had marked helmets, or at least that's the way he remembered it. Perhaps the helmets in his unit were unmarked but it is safe to say that many if not most Navy beach units wore helmets which identified them as USN personnel in some manner, as did those Navy medics pictured below.

My point being that there is a lot of variation not only in the way helmets were (or weren't) marked, but also in the way events are remembered.

Here's what I remember; the sickbays on my ships, both destroyers, had a few lids marked with Geneva Crosses...

like this one.

Now for some detail shots, and the first one is very instructive for those who collect USN helmets and wish to date them. Even if I was completely unfamiliar with this particular helmet I would know that it was in service from the early part or World War Two until at least 1973, and that blotch of yellow paint is the clue. The cork particles in the paint as well as the front- butted rim indicate WWII. The yellow paint is the tip-off for 1973.

The Navy banned the ubiquitous red-lead primer in 1973 for environmental reasons and switched over to zinc chromate. This lid is spattered in several places with zinc chromate primer.

This is the "heat of the steel" marking on the inside front of the helmet.

The "hook and arrow" chinstrap furniture, as well as the strap itself are all in very good condition.

Close up of the spot-welded swivel bail.

Visible above are the spot-welds joining the rim to the shell as well as the manufacturers mark. The "S" (inverted in pic) indicates that the shell was manufactured by the Schlueter Manufacturing Company of St. Louis, MO. Most shells were manufactured by McCord Radiator in Detroit, far fewer were made by Schlueter. Nearly all of my Navy shells are Schlueters. Perhaps a reader can shed some light on why that might be.

The front-butted rim seam indicates manufacture prior to 1944.

Another fine looking M1 helmet from Uncle Sam's Navy. I have to wonder who "PEZ" was.

U.S. Navy hospital corpsmen have a rich history and a justly deserved respect among sailors and Marines. They are the ones who have heroically and selflessly risked (and lost) their own lives to save the lives of countless others on thousands of battlefields.

This is how many Marines have seen them:

However, as a fairly lack-luster young sailor, this was my only contact with his hallowed group of sailors:

"ouch"

Navy Corpsmen, I salute them all.

provenance:
accession number: MOAharmoldv2. 193
United States Navy Medical Corpsman M1 Helmet
Acquired 1974, Naval Station Long Beach, California
Condition: very good

U.S. Navy M1 Repair Party Helmet

noreply@blogger.com (Mannie Gentile) — Sat, 17 Jan 2009 23:39:00 +0000

THIS IS NOT A DRILL!

This sailor coming down the ladder means some shipmate's about to be rescued from a very dangerous situation.

When there was fire or flooding aboard ships of the United States Navy it was the job of the men of the repair parties to save the ship. And the helmet they wore from 1942 until the early 1990s was the good old McCord M1.

The standard M1 shell painted red and labeled with concise information regarding the number of the team or repair party locker that the team was operating out of. The larger the ship the more repair lockers and parties.

This photograph is from the 17th edition of the Bluejacket's Manual, the traditional handbook of the American sailor for over a century. These black and white photos were copied from my BJM from 1970.

The sailors in this damage control party are preparing to enter a burning space. Hoses are charged and at the ready, the men are wearing OBAs (oxygen breathing apparatuses) and are crouched below the smoke and heat level ready for the leading petty officer to undog the watertight door and send them in. Although every sailor was trained for this duty, the shipboard parties were comprised of specialists, hull technicians, and damage controlmen.

Every other sailor, not a part of the party, stands by as a ready labor pool to be utilized as needed.

Damage Controlman

Hull Technician

Nearly all repair party helmets were equipped with battery-powered helmet-mounted lamps. Often these provided the only illumination in a space in which flooding or fire had shorted out the electricity.

The waterproof black hose connects the wiring from the headlamp to the waterproof battery box.

The battery box clipped to the sailor's belt. This is a typical WWII repair party M1 in all respects.

This rear view provides a glimpse of the battery box and also identifies the helmet as belonging to repair party two, and stowed in repair locker two. The repair lockers were located in strategic areas of the ship and were completely redundant in equipment.

Though not brilliant by the standards of today's technology, these little headlamps did help save ships for over 40 years.

This battery box is well marked, another in my collection is not.

Clearly marked "OFF", whatcha call "sailor proof".

Note the original green corked finish under the thick layer of sand and flat red paint.

Marking on the rear of the helmet.

A similar helmet I'll be posting at another date is a "REP-3" helmet (and now you all know what that means). Marking the helmets in the rear made it handy to keep track of who was who in a smoky chaotic situation.

Close up of the front seam on this earlier M1.

You can just make out the heat treatment numbers.

This model has the swivel bales,

and some pretty "salty" (literally) hardware. Seagoing M1s could be exposed to a lot of salt spray and corrosive powder smoke. While I was on destroyers, I seldom saw a pristine M1.

The marking "UNIT 22" causes me to think that this helmet was from a larger ship. The sooty grime and firefighting foam residue on the surface also leads me to believe that it has seen action.

These were the good guys,

and this trusty M1 was their helmet for nearly half a century.

See you next week with another Navy M1

Mannie

"They say its just like going to sleep."

noreply@blogger.com (Mannie Gentile) — Thu, 15 Jan 2009 00:36:00 +0000

pfc. Jarvess

Ricardo Montalban 1920-2009

(with George Murphy in "Battleground" - 1949)

A first-rate performance in an outstanding film.

Danish M39 steel helmet

noreply@blogger.com (Mannie Gentile) — Sun, 11 Jan 2009 12:50:00 +0000

Again I ask, What's not to like about Denmark?

Though never having been there, I find Danish helmets nearly as cool as Danish culture.

Look at all of the wonderful things the Danes have given the planet:

The Little Mermaid,

delicious bacon,

the model for recent American foreign policy,

Classic looking palace guards,

(Click here for a Youtube of these guys marching around at Amalienborg Palace)

And a very cool and unusual looking helmet, the M39, known in some circles as the "Amalienborg" helmet.

For perhaps the very best exploration of this helmet, be sure to check out Joseba's outstanding site here.

With a profile nearly as unique as Brigitte Nielsen, the M39 helmet has a look unlike any other.

Deep bowl and very wide skirts characterize the very Danish design.

Originally a Police helmet, though now in Civil Defense livery, this helmet is often referred to as the Amalienborg helmet, in reference to its use by the guards of that magnificent royal residence. I don't know if that is true or simply a ploy to peddle these helmets.

Though the design of these helms is, in my opinion, selling point aplenty!

Providing very good over all protection, the M.39 doesn't seem to interfere with the wearer's peripheral vision as the Danish M. 23/41 could.

The top view reveals a very symmetrical oval shape with a generous all-around lip.

The liner and suspension are downright lush with no scrimping on either materials or engineering. I suspect that this helmet was a very expensive one to manufacture.

Split rivets secure the leather liner to the suspension system.

Similar to the Dutch helmets of the same period, the M39 (like the Danish M 23/41 ) has this hanging slot in the rear skirt.

The lugs securing the suspension to the shell are another feature unique to the M.39. For as highly engineered as they appear on the outside...

they are even more so on the inside. The padding and spacing of this liner provide outstanding protection for the wearer, with a good deal of adjustment available.

My model had, at one time, a police shield mounted on the front since removed and leaving only a trace, a tantalizing pentimento, a vague stromatolite, of that badge I do so wish it had. The badge, now removed, left its faint outline on the helmet which has been repainted from police black to civil defense gray, the badge mounting holes individually sealed with rivets.

Again, for outstanding views of the police and army insignias refer to Joseba's site here.

Here's the interior view showing the other side of those rivets.

One of the things I enjoy about many helmets are the many markings and mysterious clues to its former life and use. This one has an abundance of markings; including this one...

Mr. Rasmussen's head being a former occupant of this helmet, I presume.

Mr Nielsen also wore this helmet for a time, no doubt Brigitte's dad.

Another cryptic notation stenciled on the very fine quality leather liner.

When I pulled back the liner fingers I was greeted with this nice surprise...

a brass tag with two more marks. I'm assuming the "57" refers to the size of the liner. Again, the craftsmanship of this helmet is remarkable.

Again, I'm assuming this stamp on one of the liner fingers refers to the liner size.

The chinstrap is very straight forward with a high-quality roller buckle. Again, unique to this helmet are the cleated split pins securing the chinstrap halves.

The leather, like the hardware, is first-rate.

This is a marvelous helmet, such a unique design and so much evidence of prior use. If only this helmet could talk, fortunately most Danes speak English so my limited linguistic skills would not be overly-taxed.

An altogether unique and handsome helmet, fit to guard a royal family, if indeed that is the history of these so-called "Amalienborg" helmets. Perhaps a reader can enlighten me on this issue. (See comments below)

Thus, ends my two-installment exploration of the Danish helmets of my collection. I hope to begin a fairly long series on U.S. Navy M1s with the next post.

I'll see you next week with a new posting. Thanks for stopping by.

Mannie

Danish M. 23-41 Steel Helmet

noreply@blogger.com (Mannie Gentile) — Sun, 04 Jan 2009 12:29:00 +0000

(For the video version, click here)

What's not to like about Denmark? It has a long tradition of standing up to bullies during WWII, and more recently here.

My introduction to the Danes (aside from Danny Kaye's protrayal of Hans Christian Andersen) was a really cute exchange student when I was in high school. I decided then that I'd like all things Danish. My instincts were good.

In my collection I only have two helmets from Denmark. For many years it was difficult to find them in the States at reasonable prices. Eventually, as the Danes switched over to composite helmets, and ebay turned the world in to a garage sale, I was able to acquire two of my own including this piece, a Danish M. 23-41.

At the risk of sounding like one of my least favorite ebay dealer dodges, characterized by the phrase"as I'm given to understand", nonetheless, as I'm given to understand (there, I said it) from other collectors as well as the Marzetti book Combat Helmets of the World (1996, pp. 56-57, fig 23.7) that this particular helmet was used by the Danish resistance movement during World War Two, as indicated by the red stripe painted along the crown of this helmet.

On to the helmet in question.

This distinctive helmet has that unmistakable Danish profile.

Although it affords a great deal of coverage, I find the widely flared skirts restrictive to peripheral vision.

The top view shows the longitudinal stripe to good effect. The original black, smooth finish, as well as the light weight liner leads me to believe that this helmet did not start its career as a combat helmet but rather a police or civil defense helmet, that, however is conjecture on my part.

The liner is pretty conventional in the European sense. The leather is in outstanding condition, bright and supple.

A hanging slot in the rear skirt of the helmet. Hey! go here for a Youtube video of the M.23 produced by a guy in Denmark.

Four fairly diminutive rivets secure the liner to the shell...

passing through these leather washers which serve as spacers between the liner and the shell.

There's a good 1/2 to 5/8 of and inch clearance here, which is good for the health of the wearer's skull.

The liner and the chinstrap couldn't be more different. The liner is fresh and the strap is cracked and weathered, leading me to believe that the strap predates the liner, which may have been a replacement during the career of this lid.

Unlike the typical European helmet, this one has a dearth of markings, only this single serial number appears lightly on the inside skirt.

The typical drawstring adjustment in the crown of the liner affords varible distance between the top of the wearers head and the shell of the helmet. This is the only adjustment point available on this liner. Definately not a "one size fits all" situation.

Altogether a fine looking helmet which may have an interesting past. I hope more information is forthcoming.

Click here see what makes Denmark so cool.

Nazi Germany M.35 Feldpolizei-Wehrmacht steel helmet

noreply@blogger.com (Mannie Gentile) — Sun, 28 Dec 2008 01:06:00 +0000

-

Long ago I resigned myself to the fact that I'd never have a Double Decal WWII German helmet in my collection for the very simple reason that DD helmets are out of my reach, financially.

All that changed today, but only for 24 hours. Its a helmet Cinderella story. I now have residing in my collection a double decal M.35 police helmet, as an overnight guest. It must return to its owners tomorrow lest it turns back into a pumpkin.

Here it is, ready for the ball:

Perhaps a little rough around the edges, rusty, and somewhat scuffed up, but still...

the real deal.

Here's how I came by this house guest.

Two friends of mine just returned from the ancestral home up in Pennsylvania where they were enjoying Christmas with the family. While up there they decided to reclaim some child hood possessions, including this WWII German lid. He was half inclined to give it to me, he was equally inclined to take it in the back yard and use it as target practice. She, however, thought it might be worth something so they brought it to me for my opinion.

And I'm so glad that they did.

I was happy to be able to tell them that it is in fact a very collectible helmet. That made them happy, and they made me happy by letting me bring it home for this photo session.

I expect it will make its next public appearance on ebay.

The helmet is, as can be seen above, completely unrestored, unconserved, and untouched save for the casual hand of neglect.

The shell is completely sound, and retains a great deal of the original paint as well as a subsequent (war-time) layer.

The M31 liner, though present, is in near relic condition. The 75% that remains is very brittle. The chinstrap, however, is delightfully intact.

The chinstrap leather appears sound though quite stiff. I was not able to discern any makers marks on the strap, and certainly many were not marked to begin with.

As can be seen in this detail shot, the chinstrap still retains very crisp outlines.

The liner drawstring is present and intact.

Many of the liner fingers are still complete, intact though inflexible.

Others are altogether missing from the band, revealing the horsehair cushion.

The size stamp "ET66" is quite evident. This shot also shows to good effect some of the most pronounced pitting.

The maker code is very crisp and distinct. I would also note that the "golden" hue of these pictures is a manifestation of the lighting I was using.

The Liner rivets are present and sound. The greatest exterior pitting is seen here around the rear rivet.

Side rivet.

This view shows the original apple green paint underneath the peeling subsequent layer of flat medium green. A careful cleaning of this helmet may restore some of the vibrancy of the original green.

Though a museum curator for 12 years, I was unwilling to attempt even a light toweling of this helmet, I'll leave that for the competent (one hopes) touch of its future owner.

The rolled edge, characteristic of both the M.35 and the M.40.

The dead giveaway for the earlier M.35, however lies here, the applied ventilator hole. The ventilators in later helmets were stamped. Compare to my Spanish M.35 as profiled here.

The party decal is still quite distinct, and distinctly disturbing in all of its fascist, bastard, nastiness.

The Police decal is less intact. Most of the black layer is gone leaving the metallic layer exposed.

Close inspection reveals the German police insignia, evidenced by this fragment of wing and the eagle's feathered neck and head. Compare to this view from the outstanding website German- Helmets.com

German Feldpolizei take a break from world domination to check their bearings. Of course we know that they're making a bee-line for the Gulag and a much delayed return home. Dress warm boys.

As if war isn't unpleasant enough, check out these happy kraut wannabees:

A rather robust Feldpolizei complete with motorcycle coat and gorget. Only to be outdone in enthusiasm by...

this pair of jolly jackbooted Japanese whackaloons. What a fabulously mixed-metaphor! My goodness, what would my late parents think?

We are all certainly entitled to our hobbies. For some its dressing up and marching around. For me its collecting combat helmets. To each his own.

Click here to see many more photos of these Japanese Jerrys. I especially liked the full-size cardboard Hanomag half-track.

This helmet will require some thoughtful conservation after which it will end up being show- piece of someone else's collection (sigh).

Tomorrow I'll return this helm to its owners with my thanks for letting me feature it in this blog entry. Next Sunday evening I'll return to the regular posting schedule with a two post series on Danish helmets. After that, I do believe it time for some U.S. Navy M1s!

Until then, best wishes for a happy, prosperous, and peaceful new year.

Mannie

-

Don't make me come over there!

noreply@blogger.com (Mannie Gentile) — Tue, 23 Dec 2008 02:47:00 +0000

I'll be back to regular blogging this coming Sunday.

AND I'M SERIOUS!

T.T.F.N.,

Mannie

Spanish M.42/79 Steel Helmet

noreply@blogger.com (Mannie Gentile) — Sat, 29 Nov 2008 16:11:00 +0000

Here is a variation on the classic "shell game".

Pictured below are three seemingly identical Spanish helmets; the model 42/79, the German manufactured M. 35, and the "modello Z".

Your objective is to determine which is the M42/79. It is concealing the image of Francisco Franco. You may want to go with your instincts on this.

If you instinctively thought "hmmmmm, Franco...far right?"

You would be...

¡Hola, mi nombre es pequeño Francisco!
Correct!

The M.42/79 is essentially a rehash of that which has gone before (the model Z) with a more highly engineered suspension and chinstrap system.

Its handsome looks still draw from its ancestor the German M.35 which saw Spanish service following the Civil War and accompanied Spanish troops as they assisted the Nazis in their campaign against the Soviets.

Like the "modello Z", the M.42/79 is made of much lighter, thinner steel than its German forebear.

As can be seen here:

note the bent profile, no doubt after an encounter with an aged Bolshevik.

The liner, though much improved from earlier versions, is still an overly-complex design that provides little of the critical space between the shell of the helmet and the head of the wearer.

Comprised of a leather band, riveted to the shell, the liner is a series of fabric and leather straps radiating toward a hammock-style apex.

The chinstrap is almost identical to the U.S. Army airborne M1C liner jump chinstrap.

The finish on this particular helmet is much finer than on other examples. The lack of those typical multiple layers of slopped-on paint lead me to believe that his helmet was in service only a short time.

Spanish police also used the M.42/79 for many years, eventually making the transition to composite helmets:

as seen here actively protecting Spanish society from rampaging gangs of old people.

Speaking of old people who were on a rampage...

now it is time to leave Francisco Franco and his nasty legacy behind as we bid farewell to the Nazi inspired design of the Spanish helmets of the 20th century, and return them to their places in the gallery.

Join me next time for as I begin a two installment series on the Danish helmets in my collection.

provenance:
accession number: MOA hmar249.68.14
Spanish M.42/79 steel helmet
Acquired 2008, ebay
Purchase price :$36.53
Condition: excellent

Helmet Holiday Hiatus

I'm taking the Month of December off, returning with regular weekly posting beginning on January 4. In the meantime catch up on earlier posts, click on the links below for other great helmet sites and resources.

Otherwise I wish all a happy holiday season!