Answers from the Community
- Trench lighter – I’ve got one from my father. It was often made from spent rounds with a few modifications to create a lighter. I had a .20 caliber case with an old threepenny coin soldered in the base, which was also a lighter.
- Army lighter that lights in the wind while covering the flame to avoid getting your face shot off.
- It is a lighter, but it might be a replica.
- It’s a miniature nuclear bomb hand grenade. DON’T pull the pin!
- Looks like a copy of an Austrian 1920s IMCO windproof lighter.
- Looks like a bobbin for an old treadle sewing machine.
- It’s a lighter – I’ve got one made of brass.
- Windless lighter – hard to find parts for it, but worth the effort to make it work. Awesome find!
- Miniature German hand grenade used by trained suicide ferrets in WWI. They ran up your pants leg and detonated at a critical junction, thus damaging many Privates’ privates.
- Military torchlight for when you can’t light campfires.
- I haven’t seen one of those in a long time.
- Trench lighter from WWII.
- Windproof lighter.
- I have one and it’s a lighter.
- It’s a coconut, duh.
- Prototype proto pipe.
- Steampunk suppository.
- Fire starter, flint.
- A vintage lightsaber.
- A vibrator from 1890.
The WW1 Trench Lighter: A Piece of History
The WW1 Trench Lighter stands as an iconic piece of history, highlighting the ingenuity born out of necessity during wartime. Soldiers in the trenches of World War I needed a reliable way to light their cigarettes or pipes amidst harsh conditions. Traditional lighters often failed in the wet and muddy environment of the trenches.
The Invention
Enter the Trench Lighter. This simple yet effective device, typically made of metal, featured a hinged mechanism that protected the flame from wind or rain. Soldiers could easily ignite it with one hand, keeping the other hand free.
Craftsmanship and Resourcefulness
These lighters were often crafted from spent bullet casings or other scrap materials found on the battlefield. This showcased the resourcefulness of soldiers. Beyond their primary function of providing light and fire, they became cherished keepsakes, serving as tangible reminders of wartime experiences.
Collector’s Item
Today, WW1 Trench Lighters are sought after by collectors and history enthusiasts, offering a tangible connection to the soldiers who once carried them.
The Trench Lighter’s Legacy
Also known as a “pipe lighter” or “pocket lighter,” the WW1 Trench Lighter holds a unique place in military history. Born from the needs of trench warfare, these lighters were not just functional tools but also symbolic artifacts of soldierly resilience and innovation.
Design and Durability
Typically crafted from brass, steel, or other durable metals, the Trench Lighter consisted of a tubular casing with a hinged lid protecting the flame. Inside, a flint and striking wheel mechanism produced a spark, igniting the fuel reservoir.
Adaptability
Designed to withstand the damp, muddy, and windy environment of the trenches, the hinged lid shielded the flame and prevented fuel loss, ensuring reliable ignition even in adverse weather.
Sentimental Value
Many soldiers crafted their own lighters using readily available materials, adding a personal touch. Engraved initials, regimental insignia, or other markings often adorned these lighters, transforming them into cherished mementos of camaraderie, hardship, and survival.
Enduring Legacy
Though the heyday of Trench Lighters ended with WWI, their legacy endures. Today, these vintage lighters are prized by collectors and history enthusiasts, offering a tangible link to the past.
Daughter Discovers Sealed Letter in Attic, But Her Mom’s Reaction Left Her Speechless
Chloe visited her sick mother, Helen, every week. One day, while at her mom’s house, she decided to clean the attic. It seemed like no one had been up there for years. While cleaning, she found a box of old letters that could hold the answer to her biggest question—why her father left. But one letter stood out. It was sealed and had never been opened.
Chloe, now 34, had been coming to visit her mother more often recently. Helen’s health had gotten worse, and she was now bedridden and weak.
Chloe couldn’t shake the fear that any visit could be the last. This feeling hung over her heart constantly.
Every week, Chloe would come by with groceries. She cooked meals for her mother and handled the tasks that Helen could no longer do.
It was hard for Chloe to watch her once-strong mother, Helen, grow so weak. But Chloe knew it was important to be there, no matter how difficult it felt.
One chilly afternoon, Chloe stood in the kitchen, stirring a pot of soup. The smell of chicken and herbs filled the room, and the bubbling of the broth was the only sound.
But then Helen’s sharp voice broke the silence from the living room.
“You know, at your age, I already had you,” Helen called, sounding irritated. “When are you going to have children?”
Chloe tensed, gripping the spoon tighter. Her mother had made this comment before, but it always hurt.
Helen had grown more critical with age. She often commented on Chloe’s lack of children, her career, or her relationship. Chloe tried not to let it get to her, but it was tiring.
“Maybe one day, Mom,” Chloe replied softly, not wanting to argue since Helen wasn’t well enough for it.
After feeding Helen and making sure she was comfortable, Chloe tidied up the kitchen. The house was a mess since her mother’s illness had worsened, and there was always so much to do.
When Helen finally fell asleep, Chloe decided to tackle a bigger job—the attic. No one had been up there for years, and it was time to clean it out.
The attic was dimly lit, with thick layers of dust covering everything. Cobwebs hung in the corners, and the air smelled musty.
As Chloe sorted through old belongings, something caught her eye—a small box in the corner. She pulled it out and saw it was locked. After finding a hammer, she gently tapped the rusty lock until it broke.
Inside were dozens of old letters, yellowed with age. Chloe’s breath caught as she realized they were love letters from her father—the man she had never known.
Each letter was filled with love and promises to return soon. Her father had been an actor, traveling with a theater troupe. In his letters, he sent money and wrote about missing Helen. Chloe was completely absorbed, learning about a love story she had never heard.
At the bottom of the box, Chloe found one final letter. It was still sealed, as if waiting all these years. Her heart raced—why hadn’t her mother opened it? What secrets did it hold?
Chloe knew she couldn’t open it without asking her mother first, no matter how badly she wanted to know the truth.
She went to her mother’s room, where Helen was awake. Chloe hesitated, knowing this would upset her.
“Mom, I found a box of letters in the attic. They’re from Dad,” Chloe said carefully.
Helen’s face hardened, and she snapped, “What were you doing going through my things?”
“I was just cleaning,” Chloe answered quickly. “But there’s one letter you never opened. Why?”
Helen’s face flushed with anger. “Burn them! I never opened that letter for a reason. You will never read it! Swear it!”
Chloe was shocked. “But Mom, don’t I have a right to know? He’s my father, and I know nothing about him.”
Helen sighed deeply, too exhausted to argue anymore. Chloe, feeling defeated, left the room, still holding the unopened letter.
Chloe sat in the living room, staring at the sealed envelope. This letter might finally reveal why her father had left, but part of her didn’t want to open it. What if the truth was worse than the mystery?
After a long pause, Chloe took a deep breath and opened the letter. Her heart sank as she saw it was charred, but the message was clear: her father loved Helen and their unborn child. He had promised to come back.
Behind it was another letter, from her father’s best friend, explaining that her father had died a hero, saving people from a fire during one of his performances.
Chloe rushed back to her mother’s room, demanding, “Why didn’t you tell me? Dad loved us!”
Helen’s voice trembled as she explained, “He loved us, but he loved his work more. He stayed behind to help people in a fire and died.”
Chloe was stunned. “He died… a hero?”
Helen nodded. “I couldn’t read that letter. I wanted to forget.”
Chloe sat down beside her mother. “Do you want me to read it to you?”
Helen hesitated but smiled through her tears. “I’d love that.”
With a deep breath, Chloe began to read her father’s final words aloud, letting the love he left behind fill the room.
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