French and German Scout Pattern Knives: Thinking Outside the SAK Box.
Myron Erickson
There’s More to Life Than a SAK?
Lately I’ve been in a French and German pocket knife mood. Although the Victorinox Pioneer and its three-layer cousins the Farmer and Pioneer X will probably always be my all-time favorite pocket knives, there is a whole world of other makers and patterns to discover from the historic knife-making centers of France and Germany. They tend to be under-represented in the US and can be challenging to obtain, but they are starting to make inroads in the American market. And it’s understandable, as I have to believe that competing against industrial juggernauts like Victorinox and Case would be a tall order if you’re the competitor’s new V.P. of North American Pocket Knife Sales.
A lifetime of SAK collecting. No duplicates, but not much variety.
My interest was spurred by the pair of pocket knives, a Hartkopf and Pradel, given to me by a friend and pen pal in London a few months ago. I had been interested in Hartkopf camp/sport knives for a couple years, but price and availability, those old twin barriers to entry and the reasons we don’t all drive Bentleys, had me kicking the can down the road while I pursued my Soldier SAK collections. So when the Hartkopf arrived and its German perfection was both unsurprising and lovely to behold, the unexpectedly charming Pradel provided contrast sufficient to really get me wondering about Life After SAK Collecting.
My Pradel.
Six Implements, the Classic Camp/Sportmesser.
Quick, think of the “classic” Swiss Army Knife. What comes to mind? I’m guessing either the Swiss Champ with its almost self-parodying array of tools and implements, or the Spartan, the Swiss Champ’s progenitor and the very essence of the breed. The Spartan is the iconic six-bladed SAK with its main blade and pen blade in one layer, screwdrivers and openers in the second layer, and a corkscrew and awl on the backside. Victorinox has made the knife that today we call the Spartan since 1897, when they introduced it as their “Officer’s and Sports Knife,” which explains the “Officier Suisse” tang stamps found on this knife. It differed from the contemporaneous soldier’s issued knife in its size, scale material, and, perhaps most notably, the presence of the backside tools, which included the corkscrew.
The Victorinox “Officer’s” knife from 1897 (L) and today (R). Image credit: luxuryactivist.com
I generally include traditional six-implement camp/sport knives (e.g., the Victorinox Spartan) and four-blade soldier-style knives (e.g., the Victorinox Pioneer) in my definition of “scout pattern” knives. But I also love the simpler two- and three-implement setups often referred to as tourist or picnic knives. The variety of beautiful and desirable knives coming out of France and Germany in these patterns, and the history and legacy of the two countries’ traditional knifemaking regions, are quite eye-opening to the diehard SAK enthusiast. And with a few key exceptions (ahem, Böker), vintage specimens can be quite affordable, if a bit difficult to find. My thought here is simply to share what I’ve learned about some of these makers and models that I’ve discovered recently. If you’re primarily a Swiss Army Knife collector, you may find it interesting too.
French and German Alternatives for the SAK-head.
As much as I love SAKs, and especially those from Victorinox, I have to face the fact that the world famous Swiss cutler didn’t invent the now ubiquitous six-implement pattern. Rather, the origins of this toolbox-in-your-pocket are more likely German. Böker, the Solingen company that has been around in some form or another for almost 200 years, says they’ve been making a six-implement knife continuously since 1869. This knife eventually became the iconic Model 182 in the 1930’s. The Friedrich Hartkopf that my friend David sent me is another classic example from a Solingen maker.
Stag party. A Victorinox 108 mm picnicker mod (L) and Hartkopf six-implement scout pattern knife (R).
In a way, a SAK enthusiast taking interest in German knives is really just coming full circle, especially when you consider that the Swiss turned to traditional makers from Solingen, Germany, 130 years ago when Switzerland couldn’t produce sufficient numbers of the first Swiss soldier’s knives, the Model 1890. At least eleven makers produced the Model 1890, and several of them were in Solingen. One of the Swiss producers, Karl Elsener, saw this as opportunity knocking and applied his natural talents as a business leader and organizer to rally the Swiss cutlers, forming the Swiss Master Cutlery Association. The Swiss Army Knife is an instantly recognized icon of quality and function today because of his industrial acumen, but the fact remains that the original genius of the design hails from Solingen, Germany.
The original Model 1890 soldier’s knife was produced by at least 11 makers.
A Timeless German Scout knife, the Böker 182.
Perhaps my favorite Solingen scout pattern knife is the Böker Model 182 (but brace yourself for sticker shock if you follow that hyperlink). It is a humpbacked pocket knife with a long legacy and has been produced in a variety of scales ranging from jigged bone, smooth horn, stag, different hardwoods, and Delrin since the 1930’s. There’s even a rare variant with a Philips head screwdriver replacing the corkscrew, produced only for a few years, from ca. 1956. The 182’s fans and collectors are legion, and prices of vintage pieces in good condition are reflective of a demand that’s higher than supply. This fine German pocket knife is still handmade, and it seems they all have some tiny imperfection that you’d never find on a new Victorinox Spartan costing 1/10th as much. But the charm and personality of these beautiful and traditional pieces can’t be denied, and they are warranted for life.
Pondering a trio of Böker Model 182’s, fireside.
Vintage French Scout Pattern Knives.
It’s a little tricky finding scout pattern knives from France that are available new. One that you can buy is Coursolle, a Thiers manufacturer currently offering a very handsome bone-scaled piece. But there are numerous vintage names that can be found on the used market. I think that in the US we just aren’t as familiar with them as we are their Swiss and German counterparts, which makes for an exciting discovery process. I made a new pen pal when research into my Pradel took me to Knives of France. Stephane, who heads up Knives of France and writes a blog about the various regions of French knifemaking and the patterns they are traditionally known for, sent me a few knives from his personal collection for my review.
Vintage French scout pattern knives. L to R: Coursolle, Makinox, and Tarry-Levigne.
Take, for example, Makinox, one of several brands produced by the now defunct French company Sannajust, a Thiers family of cutlers with many branches. Their brands came and went as they formed different partnerships and business alliances. Eclair was another Sannajust brand that appears to have made lovely six- and seven-bladed scout pattern knives.
A vintage catalog from Sannajust. Image credit: the Internet.
Stephane’s Makinox is a real beauty, with lightly decorated stainless steel scales and beautifully formed implements. The faceted quarter-round awl is especially artful, and the whole package is incredibly thin, which I found striking given its weight and 105 mm length.
Vintage Sannajust catalog. Image credit: the Internet.
Tarry Levigne is another historic Thiers producer, easily identified by its lizard mark, which was registered in 1883 (and is often mistaken today for a salamander). Tarry Levigne made all kinds of knives, including this six-blade scout pattern in stainless steel. This knife is a diminutive thing by comparison to most other French knives I’ve seen, at under 90 mm in length. It shares its squared-off design with my Pradel, and is beautifully polished. One could easily carry it as a gentleman’s knife and not feel out of place when producing it from a suit pocket at a wedding reception.
L to R, Tarry-Levigne, Makinox, Coursolle.
One final knife Stephane loaned me is a massive and traditional Coursolle. Still made just how they were at the beginning of the last century with embossed brass scales and carbon steel implements, the scales on this particular knife depict an upland hunting experience, and we see again the faceted quarter-round stabbing awl. The swedge on both the main and pen blade is gracefully applied, and the springs offer a powerful snap. At 105 mm in length, it would have an imposing pocket presence, but all three of these knives have bails that would make pocket carry easy on a chain or lanyard. Coursolle knives are still available today in a variety of patterns, scale materials, and carbon or stainless steel implements. I can see one of these gorgeous knives in my future.
The Coursolle Model 17110 in smooth horn. One of these is in my future. Image credit: sabatier-shop.com.
Picnicker’s and Tourist’s Knives.
Sometimes all you need is a knife blade and corkscrew, and maybe a can or bottle opener of some sort. While the Victorinox Alpineer and Cheese Knife are favorites of mine, there are numerous French and German alternatives to discover. Friedrich Hartkopf, the traditional Solingen maker, produces several that would give my favorite Victorinox picnickers a run for their money. For instance, this rosewood-scaled knife, which disappears in my pocket, and wields a lovely clip point blade, a rarity in my collection. It has but three implements: its razor-sharp clip point blade, a cap lifter, and a corkscrew. This is my bag, baby.
The Hartkopf rosewood picnicker.
The Au Sabot 4-1/2” wine knife is perhaps the first knife I’ve bought solely because it was a beautiful thing, and not just because it was a useful thing. These are French masterpieces with regionally traditional blade and handle shapes. Take this knife to your next gathering of friends, set it alongside the charcuterie you’re contributing, and it’s guaranteed to attract compliments and conversation.
The strikingly beautiful Au Sabot wine and cheese knife (fore) at happy hour with a dandy stag-scaled Veritable Issarinox (back).
Named for the small town in France where they have been made for nearly 600 years, the Nontron Nivette No. 38 is a delight. The scales are sustainably harvested boxwood, and have traditional markings burnt into them. This knife is light in the pocket, perfectly sized for the hand, and incredibly beautiful to behold. I think the opener implement is designed primarily for cans but I also use it for bottle caps and it works great. If this is your only pocket knife, you won’t go far wrong.
Making time for chocolate with the Nontron Nivette No. 38. A delightful pocket knife from an ancient maker.
On a budget?
Although Karl Elsener wasn’t the first to market the now-classic six-implement scout pattern knife, what Victorinox does get full credit for is perfecting the mass production of multi-implement pocket knives without the loss of quality. If you think paying 100-300 bucks for a pocket knife is crazy, and I wouldn’t blame you if you did, go get yourself a Spartan; it is the original officer’s knife and undisputed king of affordable full-sized 6-implement camp/sportmesser.
Hard to go wrong with the $30 Victorinox Spartan, if that’s your budget.
But if you want something a little different, and yes, a little classier, and you have the budget for it, then I encourage you to do some research and find a French or German pocket knife that’s right for you. And who knows, you might just make a new pen pal along the way.
Some fun SAK alternatives. L to R: a pair of Hartkopf and a trio of Böker.
Final thoughts.
If you are interested in learning more about Böker knives, I can recommend the book, Böker: Two Centuries and Two Countries… by Neal Punchard and Ricky Ray. The most comprehensive and well researched information about Swiss soldiers’ knives can be found at Thierry Deladoey’s site (and companion paperback) and Stephan Keller’s book, The Swiss Soldiers Knives. The latter is unique in its depth, written by a collector for the collector. And if you don’t already have a copy of Levine’s Guide to Knives, you should find one. It’s out of print, but is encyclopedic in nature and always reveals some new kernel of information every time I look at it. And finally, my new pen pal Stephane at Knives of France has really helped me understand the nuances and history of French cutlery. His blog is a must visit for the curious.
I relied on all of these sources in preparing this article, but of course I always welcome factual corrections and reader comments, and I love to hear from fellow collectors and enthusiasts on this or any topic.