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Re: Can Openers
"One more thing to tote may be the very one to sink the boat." - Anon.
A simple single-blade pocketknife can be one of your best friends in the field, as well as every day. It can be everything from a food slicer, spoon maker, fingernail cleaner & cutter, pea trencher, hoof pick, line cutter, splinter remover, can opener, chisel, hole punch, toothpick maker, light spokeshave, and so much more. Don't try all this at once, and clean the blade (fire is good) between certain uses. Just as there are several ways to skin a cat, there are several ways to open a can with a knife. Here's a few ways that may convince you a heavy can opener is not always needed:
Sometimes relic cans are found in camps with an "X" cut into the bottom and four corners pried up. How they did this is not readily apparent from examining the relic can, but one only need to have the pocket knife close up on one's finger only once to guess the process. Simply take the point of the knife with the fingers low on the blade and centered on the bottom of the can, and tap gently to make a small slot. Turn the knife 90 degrees and make another small slot. This should look like an "X" or the top of a Phillips head screw at this point. The next step is to insert the knife into each end of the small slotted opening, and cut the slot to the rim of the can. It will now be a big "X," and vaguely resemble a pie cut into four sections. Be very careful lifting the four sections with the knife (instead of your fingers). The contents are ready to be poured into another container, or cooked as is right in the can. The sharp edges can be simply pushed into the ground a few times to bend them back into the can. Why open the bottom? For a good number of period cans, the method for sealing involved a multi step process. (A good website on period cans will provide more details.) The top was soldered to the walls, and the large "filler hole" was left open for the contents to be inserted. After heating, the steam escapes from the pinhole in the filler hole cap (about the size of a modern dollar coin -- size does vary), and then the pinhole is sealed. Evidently, someone got wise to the drop of solder dripping from the pinhole into the victuals, and a small tin sturrip or shield was installed directly below the pinhole in a good number of cans. Not all cans had this feature, but it is easier to enter the bottom of this type of can rather than the top. The number of relic cans opened from the bottom indicate this, but it isn't a 100% rule in any case.
Note: If this post slightly reminds anyone of the "how to sharpen a pencil" homework assignment from Technical Writing 101, please feel free to laugh -- at me. :wink_smil
A more common method is to take the point of the knife with the fingers low on the blade to prevent that sudden fold up surprise, and cut along the inside of the top offsetting maybe 3/16th of an inch or less to compensate for the strength in the (fold) of the lid as it goes over the side wall of the can. For the most part, the paradox of the modern can with a period-style label comes into play, and the crimp doesn't add any detectable rigidity to the can at that point. Simply insert to make a hole, and follow around the rim. Some cut the top off, and some leave a hinge on the lid. Your choice. Far more cans appear to be opened in this manner than the "X" method described above. The same thing can be done with a triangular bayonet used with patience, and I'm going to assume a saber bayonet or artilleryman's short sword would be a bit cumbersome to use, but the job could be done with a modicum of care.
A third way to open a can of just liquid is to simply poke two slots into opposite sides of the top. Pry gently to make the slots a tad wide for better flow. Why do this at all? A can of milk is less likely to spoil or be spilled with a pouring slot of about 1/4" and a vent slot of similar size. A small nail or ice pick works for this, too, but this is about fun ways to open a can with a pocketknife.
Sardine cans take a little skill and patience, and the can be made into primitive lamps with a little bacon fat and a strip of cloth as a wick. A little experimentation will develop the skill to making something more akin to a smoky little Betty lamp rather than a grease fire.
On the subject of cans themselves, there is really no really good answer, and while this has been covered in many, many, posts in the past it bears bringing up once again. Most sanitary foodstuffs are in obviously modern cans, and other than selecting non-aluminum cans in somewhat period shapes, and putting on period-style lables, there isn't a good solution, and, frankly, I don't think this is a great solution, but there are times when the scenario or vignette dictates some form of canned goods would be present be it tinned lobster, English bully beef, whole cooked chickens, peaches, tomatoes, sardines, oysters, and such. The other alternative is to fill period containers with the attendant sanitation risks, and having had some experience in the food preservation area over the years, courtesy of the Cooperative Extension Service, I'd rather not repeat the sort of mass food poisioning usually associated with the Bovril Co. and the Span-Am War. The other factor with using filled period reproduction cans as a disposable food serving container is cost. Would reusing crudely opened reproduction cans filled with decanted canned foods be a compromise? In the right setting, it may be. I simply do not know, since I have not tried it. It is getting harder and harder to find remotely appropriate (and they are still wrong in a literal sense) modern cans.
This was about pocketknives, and remember a sharp knife is a safe knife. Some vendors sell slightly larger knives that open cans a little easier than small pocket knives. The Steamship Arabia museum has a large display of knives very similar to the "skinning" or "trade" knife sold by Jas. Townsend & Son. (Warning: Only a very few items in their catalogue have any bearing on the CW.) Other similar knives can be purchased from other vendors and makers. A knife like this is also handy for cutting the rind from real dry cured bacon if a meat saw is not handy in the wagon.
A key thought about cans, before I use all of Paul's bandwidth today, is the appropriateness of the setting. The vignettes of the 157th NY Inf. guards trading canned goods with the prisoners at Fort Pulaski during the Immortal 600 events is good. Having sutlers hawk canned goods in winter camp can be backed up by many mentions in letters and journals, and receiving some canned items in boxes from home, where appropriate, is also good, as seen at the recent Winter 1864 event as the 151st NY Inf. in Newfane, NY. Rebs chowing down on the spoils of Second Manassas is another fun example, and there are others, but keep in mind a can of something special, like peaches, in a knapsack weighs much more than the dried equivalent. Less can be more.
Seems I'm slated to teach some of this period food service stuff beyond bacon burning, hardtack munching, and coffee cooling, as part of Field Cooking 201 class in about 3 weeks at at COI in the always comfy, warm, and dry confines of Fort Ontario in Oswego, NY. Thanks for getting my creative energy going!
Charles Heath
Originally posted by FilthyFed64
A simple single-blade pocketknife can be one of your best friends in the field, as well as every day. It can be everything from a food slicer, spoon maker, fingernail cleaner & cutter, pea trencher, hoof pick, line cutter, splinter remover, can opener, chisel, hole punch, toothpick maker, light spokeshave, and so much more. Don't try all this at once, and clean the blade (fire is good) between certain uses. Just as there are several ways to skin a cat, there are several ways to open a can with a knife. Here's a few ways that may convince you a heavy can opener is not always needed:
Sometimes relic cans are found in camps with an "X" cut into the bottom and four corners pried up. How they did this is not readily apparent from examining the relic can, but one only need to have the pocket knife close up on one's finger only once to guess the process. Simply take the point of the knife with the fingers low on the blade and centered on the bottom of the can, and tap gently to make a small slot. Turn the knife 90 degrees and make another small slot. This should look like an "X" or the top of a Phillips head screw at this point. The next step is to insert the knife into each end of the small slotted opening, and cut the slot to the rim of the can. It will now be a big "X," and vaguely resemble a pie cut into four sections. Be very careful lifting the four sections with the knife (instead of your fingers). The contents are ready to be poured into another container, or cooked as is right in the can. The sharp edges can be simply pushed into the ground a few times to bend them back into the can. Why open the bottom? For a good number of period cans, the method for sealing involved a multi step process. (A good website on period cans will provide more details.) The top was soldered to the walls, and the large "filler hole" was left open for the contents to be inserted. After heating, the steam escapes from the pinhole in the filler hole cap (about the size of a modern dollar coin -- size does vary), and then the pinhole is sealed. Evidently, someone got wise to the drop of solder dripping from the pinhole into the victuals, and a small tin sturrip or shield was installed directly below the pinhole in a good number of cans. Not all cans had this feature, but it is easier to enter the bottom of this type of can rather than the top. The number of relic cans opened from the bottom indicate this, but it isn't a 100% rule in any case.
Note: If this post slightly reminds anyone of the "how to sharpen a pencil" homework assignment from Technical Writing 101, please feel free to laugh -- at me. :wink_smil
A more common method is to take the point of the knife with the fingers low on the blade to prevent that sudden fold up surprise, and cut along the inside of the top offsetting maybe 3/16th of an inch or less to compensate for the strength in the (fold) of the lid as it goes over the side wall of the can. For the most part, the paradox of the modern can with a period-style label comes into play, and the crimp doesn't add any detectable rigidity to the can at that point. Simply insert to make a hole, and follow around the rim. Some cut the top off, and some leave a hinge on the lid. Your choice. Far more cans appear to be opened in this manner than the "X" method described above. The same thing can be done with a triangular bayonet used with patience, and I'm going to assume a saber bayonet or artilleryman's short sword would be a bit cumbersome to use, but the job could be done with a modicum of care.
A third way to open a can of just liquid is to simply poke two slots into opposite sides of the top. Pry gently to make the slots a tad wide for better flow. Why do this at all? A can of milk is less likely to spoil or be spilled with a pouring slot of about 1/4" and a vent slot of similar size. A small nail or ice pick works for this, too, but this is about fun ways to open a can with a pocketknife.
Sardine cans take a little skill and patience, and the can be made into primitive lamps with a little bacon fat and a strip of cloth as a wick. A little experimentation will develop the skill to making something more akin to a smoky little Betty lamp rather than a grease fire.
On the subject of cans themselves, there is really no really good answer, and while this has been covered in many, many, posts in the past it bears bringing up once again. Most sanitary foodstuffs are in obviously modern cans, and other than selecting non-aluminum cans in somewhat period shapes, and putting on period-style lables, there isn't a good solution, and, frankly, I don't think this is a great solution, but there are times when the scenario or vignette dictates some form of canned goods would be present be it tinned lobster, English bully beef, whole cooked chickens, peaches, tomatoes, sardines, oysters, and such. The other alternative is to fill period containers with the attendant sanitation risks, and having had some experience in the food preservation area over the years, courtesy of the Cooperative Extension Service, I'd rather not repeat the sort of mass food poisioning usually associated with the Bovril Co. and the Span-Am War. The other factor with using filled period reproduction cans as a disposable food serving container is cost. Would reusing crudely opened reproduction cans filled with decanted canned foods be a compromise? In the right setting, it may be. I simply do not know, since I have not tried it. It is getting harder and harder to find remotely appropriate (and they are still wrong in a literal sense) modern cans.
This was about pocketknives, and remember a sharp knife is a safe knife. Some vendors sell slightly larger knives that open cans a little easier than small pocket knives. The Steamship Arabia museum has a large display of knives very similar to the "skinning" or "trade" knife sold by Jas. Townsend & Son. (Warning: Only a very few items in their catalogue have any bearing on the CW.) Other similar knives can be purchased from other vendors and makers. A knife like this is also handy for cutting the rind from real dry cured bacon if a meat saw is not handy in the wagon.
A key thought about cans, before I use all of Paul's bandwidth today, is the appropriateness of the setting. The vignettes of the 157th NY Inf. guards trading canned goods with the prisoners at Fort Pulaski during the Immortal 600 events is good. Having sutlers hawk canned goods in winter camp can be backed up by many mentions in letters and journals, and receiving some canned items in boxes from home, where appropriate, is also good, as seen at the recent Winter 1864 event as the 151st NY Inf. in Newfane, NY. Rebs chowing down on the spoils of Second Manassas is another fun example, and there are others, but keep in mind a can of something special, like peaches, in a knapsack weighs much more than the dried equivalent. Less can be more.
Seems I'm slated to teach some of this period food service stuff beyond bacon burning, hardtack munching, and coffee cooling, as part of Field Cooking 201 class in about 3 weeks at at COI in the always comfy, warm, and dry confines of Fort Ontario in Oswego, NY. Thanks for getting my creative energy going!
Charles Heath
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