2/14/13 Update: See the comments section for the definitive answer.
At first glance this 1922 notice from a stationery trade magazine seems poised to answer a long-standing question, and definitively at that:
It’s always more satisfying when you get the explanation straight from company literature; this way you know you won’t be parsing fading memories or navigating through urban legends—just the straight facts. And now, after all this time, I am finally going to learn where the Diamond Star logo comes from:
Hold on—protection and assurance? Merchandising co-operation? Come on—there has got to be some story about a tireless explorer, or better yet some noble Prussian officer who singlehandedly dispatched an entire enemy regiment, and whose last earthly gesture was to write—using his trusty Faber pencil (whose superior lead did not chip or break during the battle by the way)—a dying note to his young bride, saying that he has always loved her and that now she must stay strong for the children; little Dieter and Dagmar. But he died before completing it, managing only to draw this star and diamond design. The soldier’s name? Mongol van Dyke.
OK, maybe not exactly like that, but there’s got to be some explanation. I’m confident the next section will reveal the secret though, because it looks to be a list of some sort. If nothing else, it’s probably at least an anagram of STAR or something:
Clay? Graphite? Complete co-operation? And nary an anagram to be found. This was all just one big bait and switch, wasn’t it? You tease us with promises of company history, but in the end, only give us a quasi-corporate pep talk. What’s next, the date for the company picnic? Cost projections for the next fiscal year?
O.K., I’ll take 2 (I could never stay mad at you for long anyway).