Arms Collectors Relive the Past With Modern ‘War Fair’

If you just had to have a fire extinguisher from a 1942 U.S. Army jeep, the San Fernando Valley was the place to be Saturday.

It also was the place to find a gas mask from the Spanish Civil War, Mongolian military decorations, samurai swords, or an arresting children’s book from 1935--a biography of Adolph Hitler with some of his own sketches.

Such was the merchandise spread about the National Guard Armory in Van Nuys, host to a military memorabilia swap meet that drew about 25 vendors and 150 collectors who browsed booths displaying Red Army uniforms, U.S. Army ammo boxes and Nazi forgeries of British currency.

And even if the Soviet naval cadet caps from the 1950s weren’t selling like hot cakes, it was a chance for an esoteric breed of collectors to show their wares and talk shop.

You’ve never heard shop talk quite like this.

“We have matching helmets and gas masks used by Franco’s army from 1936 to ‘39,” said Robert Miller enthusiastically. “People sometimes mistake them for German ones because Hitler sold them the design. But Franco’s army changed the design.”

He helpfully held up two gas masks--a Nazi model and the fascist design worn by Generalissimo Francisco Franco’s troops in the Spanish Civil War. “Look at the shape and the color.”

To the untrained eye, they looked about the same, although the Spanish model was a paler shade of military tan.

The gas masks weren’t selling, but Miller, who owns a store called “Armies of the World” in Glendale, found many takers for jackets and hats once worn by the dreaded East German secret police, the Stassi. Several beefy men complained that the hats, like many Communist-made products, came in only one size--too small.

They walked off disappointed.

Straight across from Miller was Charles Raible, 44, a jeep specialist. Raible, who operates a delivery business in Beverly Hills, owns a World War II army jeep and sells jeep parts. It’s the little details that make a difference to jeep collectors.

“A jeep isn’t complete without the original fire extinguisher,” he said, displaying a brass-colored canister he was offering for $50. “It’s hard to use the clutch when they’re installed, but for authenticity they’re good to have.”

Although the fire extinguisher had few takers, several people leafed through copies of the jeep collectors’ newsletter--The Supply Line.

No item was too obscure for this crowd. Raible explained that jeeps in World World II were equipped with small hoods, called “blackout lights,” that were mounted above the headlights, making them less visible by aircraft but still allowing their beams to project slightly forward. Raible wasn’t selling the hoods, but for $15 would sell you the hood holders .

Although some vendors offered weapons, most carried memorabilia, from medals and documents to scrapbooks and uniforms.

John Picinisco, 31, of Arcadia has collected Nazi regalia since age 11. His booth prominently displayed the uniform of a German engineering lieutenant captured in Czechoslovakia in 1945.

“For $800 I’ll part with it,” he said quickly, before turning to a potential customer who wanted to discuss the distinctions between a Waffen SS officer’s hat and that of the lesser known Allegemeine SS officer. Picinisco had one of each for sale.

Some items had little to do with warfare.

Beate Gauch, a Los Angeles resident who grew up in wartime Berlin, buys and sells foreign coins and stamps.

Gauch offered obscure currency that was printed out of desperation by German municipalities that could not pay their bills during rampant inflation of the 1920s. Some of the brightly colored marks and pfennigs were only in circulation for a few months, she said.

Her display included playing cards from East Germany in which kings, queens and jacks were replaced with drawings of Communist political leaders, and a Nazi-era book for children to paste up photo cards, similar to American baseball cards, of German athletes from the 1936 Olympics. One black and white card was of Lutz Long, a well-known track star of the era.

Her booth was among the most crowded. And like other booths, it was the scene for haggling.

“What’s the price break on quantity?” said an older man, eyeing a stack of 1920s German currency.

“Tell me what you mean by quantity?” Gauch replied, leaning forward.

“You tell me where the discount starts and we’ll talk about quantity.”

And so it went.

Gauch also carried a small passport-like booklet, the equivalent of a draft card in Nazi Germany, which provided a glimpse into the life of Hugo Kriegs, who was drafted into Hitler’s army at age 16. A barber’s apprentice from Rhineland, Kriegs served briefly in an anti-aircraft unit in the final months of the war.

“He may still be alive somewhere,” Gauch said. “He might want his papers back.”

The crowd seemed to dwell on past glories or debacles. But one man had the future on his mind.

“When the big one comes--whether it’s a riot or an earthquake--I want to be ready to take the streets back,” said Jerry Siders, 51, of Glendale, as he looked at a camouflage jacket. “I’m sort of a survivalist. I’m looking for things I can use.”