The Army's Greatest Invention

Products that are packaged in that clear, hard plastic sometimes really bug me. I admit that I like to see the entire product that I am purchasing, which the clear plastic usually allows. However, it is after I make the purchase and try to open that damned plastic that the bugging occurs. Some marketers are intelligent enough to have the packaging sealed at a couple of spots so that once those are pried apart, the package opens.

Those marketers are, however, in the minority. For most products, the plastic packaging is sealed completely around the product in a way that reminds of the time when I super-glued my glasses to my index finger in a failed attempt to repair the frame. It took me quite a while and a trip to the drug store to purchase some acetone (not the best method but the fastest) to unbind my finger from the glasses frame with out removing my skin.

Yesterday I purchased a pair of shoe inserts that a nurse friend of mine suggested may help me walk with less strain on my tank-accident injured leg. I found the inserts she recommended and was delighted to see that they were on sale for thirty per cent under their normal retail price. However, when I returned home and tried to open the package, I realized that the edges were bonded together with super glue strength.

So, being the handy dude that I am, I decided to simply cut through the plastic. The only pair of scissors I could locate wouldn’t cut paper much that the damned plastic. Being in my kitchen, I started to reach for one of my good chef’s cutlery when I remember what cutting plastic does to knife blades.

I proceeded to the master bedroom and attempted to locate one of the half dozen or so pocket knives that I have purchased or been given and that I keep forgetting to carry with me. I searched six, uh, junk drawers without locating a single knife. Then, as if the good Lord was guiding me (which I don’t believe for a moment—the God I know doesn’t work that way) I spied the perfect cutting instrument at the back of a drawer:

In case you don’t recognize this handy little wonder, it’s a P-38 can opener: the army’s greatest invention. It was still attached to my dog tag chain along with my army dog tags (still in the neat plastic holders I was given as a new second lieutenant) where I placed it almost forty years ago. That little jewel of a tool opened a lot of C-Ration cans for me!

And, it cut through that damned plastic packaging as if the stuff were soft butter.

Perhaps I should remove the P-38 from the dog tag chain and start carrying it in my pocket! No, I won’t do that, ‘cause I’ll misplace it as I have all of those pocket knives. Rather, I’ll return it to its drawer and make a mental note that I still possess one of the army’s greatest inventions, just in case I have to cut through some more plastic packaging or my electric can opener decides not to open something.