🔗 What you need to have in your house if there are no deliveries for a week—quantities per person per day, the order in which to pack them, water, heat, and light, all on 247 pages in my complete German Survival Code: https://go.hotmart.com/F106025463I
I was standing at the counter of my local hardware store, where I've been shopping for thirty years, on a Tuesday morning. Not in the main store, but at the back counter for tradespeople. A storm had been lashing the power lines in the surrounding countryside for a day and a half. He laid my screws down and told me to take a look at the shelves on my way out.
The headlamps: gone. The crowbars: gone. The hacksaws: gone. The simple can openers, that little thing for a few euros next to the clamps: gone. All that was left were the cordless drills for three hundred euros and the generators on a pallet, covered in dust.
... The people who walked through the door that morning weren't the clueless ones. The clueless ones were sitting at home in the dark, waiting for the lights to come back on by themselves. The ones in the shop were the half-baked ones—those with water in the cellar, canned goods on the shelf, and a gas stove in the drawer, who, after a day and a half, had stumbled upon the one thing they'd thought they could somehow work around.
I'm Werner Falk, a master locksmith, forty years in the trade. I don't sell tools: no shop, no online store, no contract with any brand. I use tools, every day, until they break or until I pass them on. That's the difference between this list and most of the ones you'll find on the subject. The others tell you what to buy. I tell you what will last when you put your weight on it.
The filter by which you can judge me, and it applies to every single piece: It has to work completely without electricity. It has to solve at least three different problems, not just one narrow one. And it has to cost less than a dinner for two.
... Thirteen: the manual can opener with a welded gearbox — why the riveted one works loosely and the wheel starts to slip · Twelve: the headlamp that doesn't take up either of your hands, with lithium instead of alkaline · Eleven: the multi-tool, and the fifteen minutes it takes to open three drawers · Ten: the cast iron skillet that works on any heat source imaginable and heats a cold room for another hour · Nine: the stainless steel jerrycan — and the twenty liters per person that the Federal Office of Civil Protection recommends · Eight: the bow saw that keeps working when the chainsaw's fuel canister is empty · Seven: the splitting axe, and why the weight of the head is more important than the price · Six: the folding panel and power bank — with an explanation of what they DON'T do, and what's left of them in a German December · Five: the hobo stove that heats up a meal with a handful of twigs · Four: the sewing awl, the most overlooked tool on the list · Three: the firesteel that still works after decades in its box Sparks fly. Two: the hand-crank radio—and the piece of advice that leaves you hanging in a translated guidebook. One: the crowbar, the only one on this list that will give you access.
Two things I'm revealing. The American original had fifteen tools; I eliminated two of them using their own filter because they cost several times the price of dinner, and one of them accomplishes exactly one task. Hence, thirteen. And what disappears from the shelves first in a storm isn't the expensive items—it's the ones between fifteen and forty euros. Nobody thinks about spending more than twenty euros at eleven o'clock at night during a storm warning. That's precisely why the four-hundred-euro generator stays put.
At the end of November 2005, freezing rain hit the Münsterland region. The ice became so heavy that eighty-two power poles collapsed. Up to 250,000 people were without power, some households for up to fifty hours at a stretch, and four days after the last snowfall, not everyone was back online. No earthquake, no war. Rain that froze. And what people there usually lacked wasn't food—it was the tools to get hold of food, heat it up, and have their hands free at night.
My real advice is at the end of the video and is the least dramatic: don't try to do everything at once. One thing a month, thirteen months, and it'll be done before anyone else even shows up at the store.
Write me one word in the comments: can opener, awl, or crowbar. The one of the three that you realized you were missing at home while listening. Just the word—no address, no time, and no work hours. It's nobody's business but yours.
Look after your house for me.
Werner Falk
#CrisisPreparedness #Tools #Blackout #PowerOutage #Preparedness #SelfSufficiency #Germany
🔗 What you need to have in your house if there are no deliveries for a week—quantities per person per day, the order in which to pack them, water, heat, and light, all on 247 pages in my complete German Survival Code: https://go.hotmart.com/F106025463I
I was standing at the counter of my local hardware store, where I've been shopping for thirty years, on a Tuesday morning. Not in the main store, but at the back counter for tradespeople. A storm had been lashing the power lines in the surrounding countryside for a day and a half. He laid my screws down and told me to take a look at the shelves on my way out.
The headlamps: gone. The crowbars: gone. The hacksaws: gone. The simple can openers, that little thing for a few euros next to the clamps: gone. All that was left were the cordless drills for three hundred euros and the generators on a pallet, covered in dust.
... The people who walked through the door that morning weren't the clueless ones. The clueless ones were sitting at home in the dark, waiting for the lights to come back on by themselves. The ones in the shop were the half-baked ones—those with water in the cellar, canned goods on the shelf, and a gas stove in the drawer, who, after a day and a half, had stumbled upon the one thing they'd thought they could somehow work around.
I'm Werner Falk, a master locksmith, forty years in the trade. I don't sell tools: no shop, no online store, no contract with any brand. I use tools, every day, until they break or until I pass them on. That's the difference between this list and most of the ones you'll find on the subject. The others tell you what to buy. I tell you what will last when you put your weight on it.
The filter by which you can judge me, and it applies to every single piece: It has to work completely without electricity. It has to solve at least three different problems, not just one narrow one. And it has to cost less than a dinner for two.
... Thirteen: the manual can opener with a welded gearbox — why the riveted one works loosely and the wheel starts to slip · Twelve: the headlamp that doesn't take up either of your hands, with lithium instead of alkaline · Eleven: the multi-tool, and the fifteen minutes it takes to open three drawers · Ten: the cast iron skillet that works on any heat source imaginable and heats a cold room for another hour · Nine: the stainless steel jerrycan — and the twenty liters per person that the Federal Office of Civil Protection recommends · Eight: the bow saw that keeps working when the chainsaw's fuel canister is empty · Seven: the splitting axe, and why the weight of the head is more important than the price · Six: the folding panel and power bank — with an explanation of what they DON'T do, and what's left of them in a German December · Five: the hobo stove that heats up a meal with a handful of twigs · Four: the sewing awl, the most overlooked tool on the list · Three: the firesteel that still works after decades in its box Sparks fly. Two: the hand-crank radio—and the piece of advice that leaves you hanging in a translated guidebook. One: the crowbar, the only one on this list that will give you access.
Two things I'm revealing. The American original had fifteen tools; I eliminated two of them using their own filter because they cost several times the price of dinner, and one of them accomplishes exactly one task. Hence, thirteen. And what disappears from the shelves first in a storm isn't the expensive items—it's the ones between fifteen and forty euros. Nobody thinks about spending more than twenty euros at eleven o'clock at night during a storm warning. That's precisely why the four-hundred-euro generator stays put.
At the end of November 2005, freezing rain hit the Münsterland region. The ice became so heavy that eighty-two power poles collapsed. Up to 250,000 people were without power, some households for up to fifty hours at a stretch, and four days after the last snowfall, not everyone was back online. No earthquake, no war. Rain that froze. And what people there usually lacked wasn't food—it was the tools to get hold of food, heat it up, and have their hands free at night.
My real advice is at the end of the video and is the least dramatic: don't try to do everything at once. One thing a month, thirteen months, and it'll be done before anyone else even shows up at the store.
Write me one word in the comments: can opener, awl, or crowbar. The one of the three that you realized you were missing at home while listening. Just the word—no address, no time, and no work hours. It's nobody's business but yours.
Look after your house for me.
Werner Falk
#CrisisPreparedness #Tools #Blackout #PowerOutage #Preparedness #SelfSufficiency #Germany
Vier Fragen kommen bei diesem Thema jedes Mal, und ich beantworte sie lieber gleich.
Erstens: „Welche Marke soll ich nehmen?" Darauf antworte ich nicht, und zwar bewusst — ich verkaufe kein Werkzeug und empfehle keine Marke. Was ich sagen kann, ist, welche EIGENSCHAFT den Unterschied macht, und bei Handwerkzeug ist es fast immer dieselbe: die Verbindung. Geschweißt hält, genietet arbeitet sich locker. Ein Kopf, der auf dem Stiel sitzt, gegen einen, der aufgesteckt ist. Ein Griff, der aus einem Stück kommt, gegen einen angeschraubten. Nehmen Sie das Ding in die Hand und wackeln Sie an der Stelle, an der zwei Teile zusammenkommen. Wackelt es im Laden, wackelt es unter Last mehr.
Zweitens: „Ich habe schon eine Axt und einen Dosenöffner. Reicht das?" Kann sein — und Sie finden es in zehn Minuten heraus, ohne einen Euro auszugeben. Beim Dosenöffner: eine Dose aufmachen und dabei auf das Schneidrad schauen. Rutscht es irgendwo und Sie müssen nachdrücken, ist das Getriebe schon durch. Bei der Axt: Kopf gegen einen Holzklotz drücken und am Stiel ziehen. Hören Sie ein Knacken oder sehen Sie einen Spalt zwischen Kopf und Holz, ist es ein Dekorationsgegenstand, und zwar ein gefährlicher. Bei der Stirnlampe: Batterien raus und die Kontakte ansehen. Weißes Pulver oder grüner Belag heißt, sie hat schon ausgelaufen, und die Lampe ist beim nächsten Mal tot.
Drittens: „Fünfhundert Euro habe ich nicht." Ich auch nicht auf einmal, und deswegen steht am Ende des Videos, eines im Monat zu nehmen. Wenn Sie eine Reihenfolge wollen, hier ist meine, und sie folgt nicht dem Preis, sondern der Reihenfolge, in der die Sachen fehlen: erst der Dosenöffner und die Stirnlampe, weil die im ersten Dunkel gebraucht werden und zusammen unter sechzig Euro liegen. Dann das Brecheisen, weil es das einzige ist, das Ihnen Zugang verschafft. Dann Wasser. Alles andere danach, in welcher Ordnung Sie wollen. Wer so anfängt, hat nach drei Monaten mehr abgedeckt als die meisten Haushalte in diesem Land.
Viertens: „Warum ist kein Stromerzeuger auf der Liste?" Weil er durch meinen eigenen Filter fällt, und ich halte mich daran: Er braucht Kraftstoff, er löst genau ein Problem, und er kostet ein Vielfaches vom Abendessen zu zweit. Das heißt nicht, dass er schlecht ist. Es heißt, dass er in eine andere Liste gehört — die für Leute, bei denen die dreizehn hier schon im Keller liegen. Und ehrlich: In der Lage, in der wirklich gekauft wird, steht er noch im Regal, weil niemand nachts um elf eine Vierhundert-Euro-Entscheidung trifft. Die Stirnlampen sind dann längst weg.
Und wenn Sie aus dem ganzen Video nur eine Sache mitnehmen, dann bitte die mit dem Radio: Achten Sie darauf, dass das Gerät UKW empfangen kann. Nicht nur digital. UKW ist das, was aus einem lokalen Sender noch herauskommt, wenn alles andere hakt — und ein Ratgeber, der aus dem Amerikanischen übersetzt ist, schickt Sie stattdessen nach einer Wetterfunk-Frequenz suchen, die es hier gar nicht gibt.