Nice one Lord B!
My father had what could be described as a forerunner of a Swiss army knife with a bit of a story behind it.
It had scissors, a file, several blades etc and he'd had it since the second world war.
He was serving with the Worcester regiment in the XIV army out in the jungles of Burma and when we were children he'd tell us stories about the snakes, bugs and life in the jungle.
He told us that his section were guarding a jungle path, hidden and unseen by a Japanese army patrol that came along.
My dad opened fire, his round found it's mark and the Japanese point man lay on the path dead some yards away.
The officer in charge ordered dad and his mate to check the body and to collect anything from the pockets of his victim.
This was the first time that my dad had shot a man and he told us that as they approached the body him and his oppo were scared stiff in case the Jap wasn't dead and he jumped up and attacked them.
When they were close it was evident that the Jap was indeed dead with half of his chest blown away and dad checked the dead mans pockets and collected the paybook, a wallet containing some money, photographs and a letter and this silver knife.
The mans effects were duly handed to the officer, the body was moved and the dead soldiers weapon was disabled and life continued for the young men who faced these horrors on a daily basis. Dad was a regular soldier and was out in Burma until 1947, two years after the war had ended and he came home, carried on as normal and when my mother died in 1953 he bought us up alone with no social services, just kind neighbours and relatives.
The officer had handed the knife back to my dad as a souvenir which he kept to his dying day, my younger brother has it now.
I can't help wondering what my dad would have made of this risk averse society that we seem to have become.