I have often been asked what caused my interest in fountain pens and how did
the rebirth of the fountain pen industry come about? Was it because of some famous
movie stars’ interest, an emulation of a world leader, some politically
correct surge or a sudden adoption of an environmental crusade? Well I’ll
tell you and we have to take a trip back in time to the mid 1960’s to see
what really happened.
By the 1960’s the ballpoint pen was on a world rampage and by the mid
60’s fountain pens were almost relegated to the history books. Real ink
was scarce, penmanship was smeared greasy blue ink on paper and that little thin
gold Cross ballpoint from Rhode Island was the reigning status symbol. Indeed
the song of the baby boom generation was “click” “click.”
Fountain pens weren’t quite dead yet but the wake was in progress. I’d
like to tell you that some earth shaking event took place that changed all of
this but it didn’t happen that way. The revival started very quietly early
one cold and snowy morning in the small town of Bamberg, Germany. Let me set the
stage for you.
It was1967 and I was in the US Army stationed in Bamberg, Germany. My Brigade
Commander was Colonel Frank A. Williams, a boy from Paris, Kentucky. Now Frank
was not your run of the mill average outstanding Army officer. Frank was what
we called “Old School”, pre World War II, and he joined the Army in
1939. His ideas of chivalry and manners were rooted in traditions more aligned
with an earlier century. Frank was a tall fellow, well over six feet tall, with
sandy red hair and a big bushy moustache stuck on a head about one size bigger
than his body. He smoked this big briar pipe, carried a pistol in a shoulder holster,
and could stare a hole through a brick wall. All in all he was a pretty imposing
figure and to beat all he used a 1941 pink, silver and black striated blue diamond
Duofold Vacumatic with a medium signature nib, sort of like a left footed Binderized
job. He always referred to any pen, ballpoint or otherwise as a fountain pen and
little did he know his vocabulary would later come to make him a legend. Now Frank
had been an Infantry Captain in World War II and was held in pretty high regard
by his men, mostly because he was a man of few words and small talk wasn’t
in his vocabulary, action was though. So you want an example, OK, I’ll give
you an example.
One day Frank called me in his office (I was his assistant operations officer)
and showed me a promotion party invitation from a Lieutenant Smith. I politely
informed the good Colonel that the party was last week and that we had a blast.
He said he had heard about that, and we’d discuss my party behavior later,
and that he didn’t attend due to a previous engagement. I assured him that
his absence was understood and not to worry, there’d be other parties. He
informed me rather bluntly that indeed he was worried because right there at the
bottom of the invitation it said R.S.V.P. and he forgot to respond. He then informs
me that we’ll walk down to the tank battalion and find Lieutenant Smith
so that he, Frank, can apologize. Walk! That’s a mile away and it’s
about 17 degrees out Colonel, I’ll have your staff car brought to the door.
“No Lieutenant Thorpe, we’ll walk down and we’ll walk back”
and we did. The Brigade Commander walking through the snow, in freezing weather,
puffing on that big briar pipe, caused quite a commotion. Soldiers were hanging
out of windows watching, shouts of “the old man’s in the area”
rang out (all Army commanders are called “The Old Man” regardless
of their age). Jeeps and trucks came sliding to a stop everywhere so people can
jump out and salute. “Good Morning Sir” rang out from every nook and
cranny. A couple of mess sergeants ran out and wanted to know if the old man wanted
some coffee. It was something akin to a Presidential visit and it certainly left
Lieutenant Smith awed. That was Frank. The man knew how to make a statement. Little
did I know that this was just the first act.
Well one of my jobs was to make sure that the nightly duty officer for the
brigade (3,700 men and 172 officers) was fully briefed. One of my instructions
to the duty officer was to call me immediately if the Brigade Commander showed
up in his office anytime during the night. Sure enough at 3 AM on a cold snowy
February morning, in Bamberg, Germany, in 1967, my phone rang: “Sir, the
Brigade Commanders in his office.” Suspecting something was about to happen,
like maybe World War III, I hightailed it into the headquarters. Sticking my head
into Frank’s office I inquired if there was anything I could do? Frank simply
looked up and said, “Lieutenant Thorpe, please assemble all the brigade
officers in the theater at 6 AM.” Holy Cow, this is big, maybe the cold
war is going hot. Frantically the duty officer and I implemented the alert recall
system and at 6 AM all 172 officers were assembled in the theater and I can’t
say they were real fond of me at that moment though.
“Gentlemen, The Brigade Commander!” Everybody jumps to their feet.
You could cut the tension with a bayonet. In the background I can hear the rumble
of tanks warming up getting ready for the big show. Gosh the word spreads fast.
Colonel Frank A. Williams, senior Colonel in the entire United States Army, walks
out on the stage, reaches up and parks one hand on that pistol in the shoulder
holster, leans into the microphone and says in that freight train rumble that
he calls a voice, “I just wanted to tell you what a good job you’ve
been doing. And I also want you to know that it behooves each of you to have a
watch, five dollars in your wallet and a fountain pen in your pocket. The club
is open for breakfast.” Then he walks off the stage and disappears.
Stunned silence. Absolutely not a sound. It was the most amazing thing I ever
saw, 172 Infantry, Armor, Artillery and Engineer officers speechless, and that
takes some doing, and all of them staring at me! Well we heard the one word “Behooves”
so we had our marching orders. Behooves is an old Army word that literally means,
“You better do this or your butt will get kicked.” The great race
was on. The Post Exchange store sold out of fountain pens immediately after opening.
All over Bamberg you saw officers slipping in and out of department stores, art
supply stores, stationary stores and antique shops buying fountain pens. By noon
the word had spread to the 2nd Armored Cavalry Regiment in a neighboring garrison
that fountain pens were required by order of the Supreme Allied Commander of Europe
and another 150 officers were on the quest for those elusive fountain pens. Later
in the afternoon my Operations Sergeant asks me if I knew that the President of
the United States had ordered everybody in the Army to carry a fountain pen. I
said yes, it’s true. Boy it really hit the fan then, all over Europe soldiers
were buying fountain pens, I’m sure Mont Blanc and Pelikan opened at least
three new stores that very day.
Now you’re no doubt wondering if Colonel Williams was becoming prematurely
senile or was just crazy as a loon. Neither actually, it was that “Old School”
showing through. The truth is that at 3 AM Colonel Williams had just returned
from a meeting in Berlin. It seems that a young officer had arrived late because
he had no watch, had to borrow money for lunch and had no pen with which to take
notes. This left Frank aghast and wanted to ensure that his officers took actions
to ensure they never ever found themselves in such a socially embarrassing situation.
I believe he was highly successful.
To this day I wear a watch, have five dollars hidden in my wallet, and a fountain
pen in my pocket. I bet everybody that was in that theater on that cold snowy
February morning in Bamberg does too.
So that folks is how the great revival of fountain pens started. It had nothing
to do with limited editions, political correctness, ebonite feeds, fancy books,
pretty ink or saving the environment. Frank caused it.
© 2004 by Will Thorpe. All rights reserved. No part of this article
may be reprinted in any form without permission of the author except for brief
editorial quotes sarcastic or otherwise.
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