When I think of my youth there is a large smile on my face. The woods, the fields, the rivers, and the streams come to mind. The old hunting dogs that are long gone. People. Yes, most of those that hunted in my youth and shepherded me along the way are long gone. I cherish those memories and that these people are almost all in a ‘better place’.
West Germany. When was it the Berlin Wall fell? German products were always labeled “West Germany” in the days when German ingenuity pushed out what would become world leading products: Mercedes, Zurn, BMW, and others. Out of the participative West German Democracy came my old Zeiss Diavari C riflescope in 3X9. I use the word participative because even today — as liberal Americans think they would love a more European style welfare state — if you earn income in Germany you pay taxes; there is no 50% of German society that does not pay taxes. (Something the Greeks could learn well from.)
My Diavari has been mounted to the back of so many rifles I can no longer number them. The first was a Browning BAR in 7mm Remington Magnum. Today this Belgian made Browning remains an excellent rifle even though in my youth I was stupid enough to lend it to a family member who dropped it from a tree. (He is still the same idiot today and appreciates nothing mechanical.) From the Browning there were others, I would have to confirm with a look in the gun safes, but at the moment I think it sits on a Weatherby Mark V in 300 Weatherby Magnum.
The Diavari will outlive me. I think I will have it auctioned at my death at one of the local gun clubs up in Georgia.