Obituary - Manfred Wenzel

Above: Manfred Wenzel at his home in Hofheim am Taunus, Germany in a picture dated May 1, 2026.

Born April 4th, 1946, Manfred grew up in Hofheim, near Frankfurt, Germany. After receiving his mechanical engineering degree, Manfred worked his way up the chain of command at battery manufacturer Varta before joining Kobold Messring, the measurement and control equipment manufacturer owned by his school friend - my father. 

At Kobold Messring, Manfred was a development engineer, meaning he worked on new products. Over the course of more than 40 years, he went on to lead the development department. His official job description, however, paled in comparison to the countless other tasks with which Manfred Wenzel was entrusted. Therefore, to simply call Manfred a department head would be a great injustice to the man the Kobold family relied on as a trusted confidante, friend, and secret founding father of the Kobold brand of watches. 

At the age of 6, I was entrusted to Manfred's care for the first time when he stood outside my elementary school, waiting to drive me home in his Citroen sedan. Soon thereafter, my parents decreed that Manfred, who was a 7th or 8th dan black belt judo instructor, should become my judo instructor. I much preferred to play with Legos and Playmobil, loathed school, and certainly didn't relish receiving formal instructions in martial arts, much less from a man seemingly ten times my size. 

My parents were adamant, so every Wednesday evening I rode in Manfred's Citroen from our home in Fischbach to Manfred's judo studio in Hofheim. On the first evening, to my considerable relief, I discovered that along with adults, there were quite a number of other children my age. Suddenly, judo didn't seem like such a bad idea after all. However, while the other kids were free to select a partner their age and size, Manfred partnered me with the biggest man in the room - a giant seemingly twice Manfred's size. Each time we practiced a new move, the burly giant swept me off my feet and threw me on the ground. I immediately developed a strong dislike for judo, the giant and Manfred. I remember the car ride home being silent.

Back home, no amount of brandishing bruises, crying genuine tears of sorrow, or desperate pleading with my parents could persuade them that judo was a terrible pastime. Instead, I subequently found myself in Manfred's Citroen every Wednesday evening and soon thereafter in the overly firm grasp of the giant. At the time, I failed to understand what I had done to deserve this evil punishment. Feeling helpless, I simply resigned myself to my fate. After a few months of being thrown around the room by the menacing giant, Manfred informed my parents that I was beginning to show promise. My father, never one to bestow praise lavishly, beamed with pride. 

Around this time, my friendship with Manfred began to develop. Until then, I didn't care for him or his martial arts antics. On our many drives, Manfred had been mostly stoic - the prototypical German engineer! When he did speak, it was usually about his Citroen with its hydraulic suspension ("...the president of France drives the same car...") or about fire fighters and fire trucks (the Hofheim fire department had its main station across the street from the judo studio). But now that I was taking a liking to judo and evidently did what Manfred and his giant accomplice were expecting, he became warmer and more amiable toward me, rattling off a string of very amusing jokes during our drives. At the judo studio, however, his demeanor remained formal and strict. 

Over the years, Manfred became a close personal friend and on each occasion when I visited my mother in Germany I made sure to pay Manfred a visit in his office at Kobold Messring in Hofheim. There, the once stoic judo instructor, would always jump up from his table to greet me with a big smile. Manfred along with several other old hands at Kobold Hofheim often told me that they hoped I would one day take over the reigns from my father. He would tell me all kinds of insider information and lament problems that even he with his considerable power was unable to solve. I never had the ambition to run the family company, much preferring my small independent watch brand. Manfred played a critical role from its founding in 1998 until this very year when he provided the technical drawings for a gear of the new Kobold Globetrotter.

Unbeknownst to his boss and old school friend -my father- who had been adamantly against my pursuit of a career in the watch world, Manfred Wenzel was one of the founding fathers of Kobold Watch - along with master watchmaker Gerd-Ruediger Lang, Sir Ranulph Fiennes, the British explorer, and Jack Roseman, my entrepreneurship professor at Carnegie Mellon University in Pittsburgh, Pennsylvania. 

As soon as Gerd-R. Lang had the original idea for the Kobold brand of watches, I met first with my mother and then Manfred to discuss the idea. Both were very supportive of the idea and full of encouragement. There were many engineering questions that would have to be adressed once the brand grew, Manfred said in his usual measured and matter-of-fact manner. "You can count on my people and me, we will help you," Manfred said, and added "I'll make sure your father doesn't find out." 

Sure enough, as Kobold Watch grew, the need for a new case arose, one that would be easily identifiable as a Kobold watch case. Ran, Ruediger, Manfred and I spent many hours designing this case and it was Kobold in Hofheim, Germany, that made the original case drawings. These we shopped around to a number of case manufacturers in Switzerland, Germany and Italy before settling on a small German outfit to make the first run of Kobold Soarway cases. Yet the original protoype of this case was developed by Manfred and his crew. From then on, the engineering drawings of every Kobold watch case were furnished by Manfred Wenzel. This practice continued until 2013, when my company contracted with a Pittsburgh, PA based engineer to produce technical drawings for new cases.

While Manfred Wenzel was instrumental in the founding and development of Kobold Watch, he shone even brighter in the quiet and discreet manner in which he handled all manner of highly sensitive and delicate matters pertaining to the Kobold family. After I returned from a four-year sting in Nepal in 2019, I frequently spoke with Manfred by phone and occasionally visited him at Kobold in Hofheim or at his home. One of the recurring phrases Manfred used was "I could write a book about my life and times with the Kobold family, but I will never do it." This was typical Manfred - pure understatement, not boastful in the least: Manfred really knew almost every family secret and could easily have penned a riveting trilogy. 

In May 2026, I visited Manfred for the last time. I knew that Manfred hadn't been in great health for some time and sensed that it was the right occasion to say goodbye. I had thanked him on previous occasions for his decades of friendship, mentorship and service, but during this visit I asked Manfred why during those judo years he had always paired me with the giant. "Oh, you know in those days there was ageneral fear going around of children getting kidnapped. So I wanted to prepare you to deal with an assailant who was bigger and stronger than you."

Manfred Wenzel was laid to rest this morning in his native Hofheim am Taunus. Ever the discreet lieutenant, he took countless secrets with him. 

In deep gratitude,

Michael Kobold