Over our years in business we were blessed with a wonderfully diverse collection of artisans on our staff. One of these was a superb German craftsman, who had a remarkable personal history. He was a German infantryman in WWII, who had the misfortune of being captured by Russian forces. On a Prisoner of War train to Moscow he managed to escape and spent nearly a year evading his pursuers. He was recaptured just as he was about to reach the German lines and spent the rest of the war in a POW camp.
Upon his release he managed to make his way to Canada. There he used his wilderness experience to carve a niche for himself as a guide for pack trains. He immigrated to the US and continued his profession leading pack trains in the Wind River Mountains of Wyoming. There he honed his skills with pack horses and mules and became very familiar with the rigging used, and with the anatomies not only of the pack animals, but of those of many other wilderness animals as well.
As the years wore on he eventually abandoned his physically demanding trade as a wilderness guide and moved to Tucson. He came into Desert Crucible looking for employment, bringing with him a few of the wood carvings he had sculpted. They were excellently rendered. We ran him through a few exercises in the shop to verify his knowledge of tools and dexterity in their use, and hired him. His knowledge of animal anatomy proved invaluable, and a number of our artist customers were drawn to him for advice on their sculptures in process.
One day a new customer came in with a bronze sculpture in need of minor repair. He was obviously from another country and I had a degree of difficulty communicating with him. He asked if I spoke German. I did not. But ah ha! We had a member of our staff who did! I took him into the shop and introduced him to our German-speaking employee. We all conversed for a short time, our employee translating what was said into English for me. They seemed to be doing well, and I
excused myself and returned to the office.
Minutes later I was startled by shouting and other unusual noises coming from the shop. As I arrived, several of our employees were holding the two of them apart. Both were obviously angry and combative. I escorted the customer to the door, gave him his sculpture, and bade him goodbye.
I returned to the shop, greatly annoyed with both of them, to find out what had happened. Like I said at the beginning, you can’t make this stuff up. It turns out the customer was an Israeli Nazi Hunter!
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