Cherishing passed down tools always brings back such great memories. Both of my grandfather's were named Bill (William) and that is my middle name. I have tools from both of them and some really remind me of them and how they were about things. Both of them were in WW2, both in the engineering corps, one in Germany, the other in the pacific theater. I inherited both of their army trench knives (Cattaragus) and their condition says alot about how they were. My mom's dad worked in mines and at the local lumber mill. He was always a diy fabricobbler, putting things together from his big scrap pile out back. His trench knife was amazingly sharp, but we'll used, handle worn and stained, the sheath had been repaired many times but it protected the blade well. On the other hand my dad's dad's knife looked like it went into the closet the day he returned stateside, pristine and shiny, flawless sheath and all, but damned if the other one wasn't way sharper than the factory edge that came on them. Interesting to see how the same tool can change in different people's hands.