Steel Behemoth: The 1946 “What-If” E-100

This model depicts a late-war “what if” scenario in which the German Panzerkampfwagen E-100 reached limited production as the war dragged into 1946. Shown in early spring conditions, the vehicle retains remnants of a hastily applied winter whitewash that is fading and wearing away, revealing the underlying camouflage beneath.

Conceived as part of Germany’s Entwicklung series, the E-100 was planned as a super-heavy breakthrough tank with a projected crew of six and an estimated combat weight of approximately 123 tons. Standing over eleven feet tall, it represented the extreme end of late-war German armored design philosophy, prioritizing firepower and protection over practicality.

This 1/35 scale kit by Amusing Hobby was finished using acrylics, oils, and VMS and AK pigments. Weathering was focused on heavy operational wear, corrosion, and neglect consistent with a vehicle rushed into service during the final months of the conflict. The hull camouflage wires were deliberately over-aged to emphasize rust and deterioration, reinforcing the sense of a massive machine deployed too late to alter the course of the war.

Panzerkampfwagen VII Löwe: The Lion That Never Roared

A “Paper Panzer” hence it existed only on paper though some sources say a hull was found in the closing days of WW2 for it. The Panzerkampfwagen VII Löwe (Lion in English) was designed to have the L/70 high velocity gun and a 1,000 horsepower Maybach engine. The Panzerkampfwagen VII Löwe (“Lion”) was a proposed German heavy tank design that never progressed beyond the drawing board, making it one of the many so-called “Paper Panzers” of the late war period. Conceived as an intermediate step between the Panther and the massive Maus, the Löwe was intended to combine heavy armor protection with greater mobility than Germany’s super-heavy designs. It was planned to mount the high-velocity L/70 gun and be powered by a 1,000-horsepower Maybach engine, giving it formidable firepower on paper.

This model represents a realistic late-war “what if” interpretation of the Löwe, imagining how it might have appeared had construction progressed far enough for a prototype to exist. Built and finished to emphasize weight, scale, and industrial brutality, the weathering reflects a vehicle undergoing trials rather than combat. Acrylics, washes, and restrained aging were used to suggest a machine caught between concept and reality - an armored lion that never had the chance to roar on the battlefield.

Char 2C - WWI’s Colossus, WWII’s Relic

The French Char 2C remains the largest tank by volume ever to enter production, a true armored giant conceived during the final stages of World War I. Designed as a breakthrough vehicle, the Char 2C carried a massive crew of 12 and embodied early interwar thinking that emphasized sheer size, firepower, and psychological impact. Unfortunately, it arrived too late to see combat in WWI and by the outbreak of World War II it was already obsolete - slow, mechanically complex, and vulnerable to modern anti-tank weapons.

One of the most well-known vehicles, Char 2C No. 92 “Picardie,” broke down during the 1940 campaign and was captured intact by German forces. Its ultimate fate remains unclear, though it was almost certainly scrapped. This model represents the Char 2C in 1/35 scale, built from the Meng kit with the tailskid modification added. Subtle weathering and restrained aging were used to emphasize the vehicle’s immense scale and mechanical presence, capturing the look of a technological marvel that history ultimately passed by.

Le Hussard (1848) - My First Wooden Ship Model

Le Hussard was a French naval vessel launched in 1848, a period of rapid political and technological change in France. Built during the era when sail-powered warships were reaching their final refinement, Le Hussard represents the transitional age just before steam power and ironclads began to dominate naval warfare. Ships of this type were typically used for patrol, escort, training, and showing the flag in coastal and colonial waters, relying on speed, maneuverability, and skilled seamanship rather than heavy armor or armament.

As a sailing vessel of the mid-19th century, Le Hussard reflects the culmination of centuries of wooden shipbuilding knowledge - complex hull framing, carefully planked decks, and intricate standing and running rigging that demanded constant maintenance and highly trained crews. By the time steam propulsion became widespread only a few decades later, ships like Le Hussard had effectively reached the end of a long naval tradition.

This plank-on-frame wooden ship model is based on the Artesania Latina kit and was built in the early 1980s, making it the first wooden ship model I ever completed. The project marked my introduction to traditional ship modeling techniques, including frame alignment, hull planking, deck construction, and basic rigging. While it clearly reflects the learning curve of an early build, it remains a meaningful milestone in my modeling journey.

Remarkably, the model has survived several major cross-state moves over the decades largely intact—a testament both to careful packing and a bit of luck. Today it serves not only as a representation of a 19th-century sailing vessel, but also as a personal reminder of where my interest in detailed, hands-on craftsmanship first began.

Midwest’s Dinghy – A Working Boat of Everyday Life

Small wooden dinghies like this were once a common and essential sight across the lakes, rivers, and backwaters. Long before aluminum hulls and fiberglass became standard, local boatbuilders produced simple, practical wooden boats designed for fishing, short transport, and everyday utility. These boats were built to be light, stable, easy to repair, and capable of being hauled up on shore or loaded onto a trailer without much effort.

Through the world’s waterways, dinghies in one form or another, were often used on inland lakes, farm ponds, and slow-moving rivers, serving fishermen, hunters, and landowners rather than commercial sailors. Construction was typically straightforward: lapstrake or plank-on-frame hulls, basic seating, and minimal hardware. Durability mattered more than refinement, and many of these boats were repaired repeatedly over their lifetimes with whatever materials were available.

This wooden dinghy model reflects that utilitarian heritage. The clean interior layout, exposed planking, and restrained finish are meant to capture the honest, workmanlike character of a real small boat rather than a decorative or yacht-style craft. The scratch-built fishing rods, reels, and tackle box reinforce the idea of a boat that is actively used rather than displayed.

Rather than representing a specific named vessel, this model is intended as a snapshot of everyday boating culture—a quiet moment on the water where function, simplicity, and familiarity mattered more than speed or prestige.

Maine Peapod - The Workhorse of the Lobster Coast

The Maine peapod is one of the most distinctive and practical small working boats ever developed along the New England coast. Originating in the mid-to-late 19th century, the peapod was designed specifically for the harsh, rocky shoreline and unpredictable conditions of coastal Maine. Its defining feature is the double-ended, sharply tapered hull, which allowed the boat to move efficiently through chop while remaining highly maneuverable in tight spaces.

Unlike broader-beamed workboats, the peapod could slip between rocks, navigate narrow coves, and land directly on uneven shorelines without risking serious damage. This made it especially valuable to lobster fishermen who often worked close to shore, setting and hauling traps in areas larger boats simply could not reach. The narrow beam and fine ends also reduced pounding in rough water, an important consideration in cold North Atlantic seas.

Peapods were typically rowed or sailed and were light enough to be hauled out by hand. Their construction favored simplicity and durability: plank-on-frame wooden hulls, minimal decking, and interiors arranged purely for work. Every feature served a purpose, from the open layout for trap handling to the low freeboard that made hauling gear easier.

This model reflects that utilitarian heritage. The tapered hull shape, simple interior, lobster trap, buoy, and coiled line represent the tools of a fisherman whose livelihood depended on reliability rather than comfort. Rather than depicting a specific named vessel, this build captures the everyday reality of Maine’s small-scale lobster industry before engines and modern materials transformed coastal fishing.

The Maine peapod stands as a reminder that some of the most successful boat designs were born not from theory or luxury, but from generations of hard-earned experience working the sea.

Seabright Dory - America’s Surf Lifesaver

The Seabright dory lifeboat is closely tied to the history of coastal rescue along the eastern seaboard of the United States, particularly New Jersey and the Mid-Atlantic region. Developed in the late 19th century, this distinctive type of dory was designed specifically for surf rescue operations, where boats had to be launched directly from beaches into heavy breakers.

Unlike traditional dories, the Seabright dory featured a narrow, double-ended hull with pronounced rocker and lapstrake (clinker) construction. This combination allowed the boat to rise quickly over breaking waves, shed water efficiently, and remain controllable in turbulent surf conditions. The lightweight wooden hull made it possible for lifeguards or surfmen to drag the boat across sand and launch rapidly when lives were at stake.

Seabright dories were widely used by lifesaving stations and beach patrols well into the early 20th century. Crews often rowed directly into dangerous seas, timing their launches between waves, relying entirely on skill, strength, and intimate knowledge of the surf. These boats were never about comfort or speed—every design decision prioritized stability, quick response, and survivability in the worst conditions.

As rescue technology advanced, wooden Seabright dories were gradually replaced by powered and later fiberglass craft. However, the basic hull form proved so effective that modern lifeguard boats still retain many of the same design principles first established by these early surf lifeboats.

This model represents the classic wooden Seabright dory in its working form: simple, purposeful, and ready for service. The lapstrake hull, open interior, and oars reflect a time when rescue depended not on engines or electronics, but on courage, teamwork, and a boat designed to survive the surf alongside its crew.

The Maus Project - When Armor Outgrew Reality

The Panzerkampfwagen VIII Maus represents the absolute extreme of German armored vehicle design during the final years of World War II. Conceived as a breakthrough super-heavy tank, Maus was intended to be virtually impervious to Allied anti-tank weapons, mounting massive armor thickness and an equally formidable main gun. At approximately 188 tons, it remains the heaviest fully enclosed armored fighting vehicle ever constructed.

Only two prototypes were completed before the war ended. Even during testing, Maus proved to be deeply impractical. Its immense weight made conventional bridge crossings impossible, forcing engineers to propose river crossings by submersion using snorkel equipment and power supplied by another Maus on the opposite bank. Mechanical reliability, fuel consumption, and mobility were constant problems, and the vehicle never entered combat.

By 1945, advancing Soviet forces captured both prototypes at the Kummersdorf proving grounds. One hull and one turret were later combined by the Soviets into a single vehicle, which survives today at the Kubinka Tank Museum in Russia. Maus stands as a symbol of late-war German engineering priorities—extraordinary technical ambition applied too late, to a battlefield that no longer allowed such excess.

This model depicts the Maus as it might have appeared on the battlefield late in the war. Built from the Dragon 1/35 scale kit, it incorporates photo-etched details and extensive weathering to suggest a vehicle that spent some of its time on the battlefield before the wars end. The heavy surface wear, oxidized finishes, and muted camouflage reflect both the scale of the machine and the reality of its fate: an engineering marvel that never found a practical role in combat although as represented here, an intriguing concept had it actually been pushed into service.