Double Hits

“No one can defend himself without danger.”

I’ve recently been considering revising my view on double hits. To the HEMA community, double hits are an anathema. They are severely punished in tournaments, maligned in discussions and criticized mercilessly. To be fair, a double hit is obviously bad. You got hit. That’s never good.

But you know what I think is worse than a double hit? You getting hit cleanly and your opponent walking away unscratched.

I don’t want to train people who are so focused on their own defense that they can be manipulated easily by a fighter who understands how to use pressure. Don’t get me wrong. The objective remains the same. Kill your opponent without getting killed or injured yourself. This should be what everyone strives for. But the secondary objective should NOT be to get killed and leave your opponent unharmed!

I don’t think for a minute that a fighter should ever strive for double hits. That would be suicidal and stupid. What I am contemplating at the moment is a strategy for the fight that is more aggressive, and, oddly enough, more in line with Liechtenauer’s teachings. Don’t just defend, cut into the attack. Go for the kill. Don’t back up, go forward.

If two equally skilled fighters fight and the resulst is 10 clean hits and 2 double hits, then each fighter got 5 clean hits on his opponent. Yay! Conversely, each fighter let his opponent hit him 5 times without doing a damn thing about it. Not so yay. Let’s also not forget that double hit does NOT equal double kill. It may not even equal double injury. Some people train hard to make sure that each of their hits is a kill. Some people don’t. This is true today, and it was probably true in period.

In our fencing in NYHFA, double hits are very rare. Particularly for me. I think this should change. Even if the change is simply a transition to a more aggressive, more zettel-correct means of fencing that is free of double hits.

What do I mean by that? Let me put it plainly. I think we fight wrong most of the time. Just look at how people cut vs how they swing in a fencing match. Two completely different animals, at leats for most people. I think we're too fast. Too imprecise. You disagree? Show me a video of yourself moving with the exact speed and the same strikes you use in a tournament or fencing match with a real, historically accurate sword, and I want to hear the swoosh of proper edge alignment and velocity with each movement. Or you can take it one step further and set up some mats (mats ain't people, they're easier, but they'll do). Let me save you the trouble...unless you're amazing, you can't do it, and I don't know too many people who are amazing.

I don't think we should fight in such a way that would cause double hits in a real fight. But I think we're overly concerned about double hits in fake fights. Adjusting how we fight to super fast plastic and steel swords that are used with zero consideration for cutting and wounding is a sure way to distort Liechtenauer's system and the realities of combat.

So I think I'm going to start trying to do the right thing, even if my opponent does the wrong thing, and if that leads to a double hit, so what. Call me sloppy. I won't lose any sleep over it.

After the cut

OK and now for the post I had originally planned on writing before the rant came out instead.

In practicing cuts—whether through air, against a pell, or through tatami—we focus on all the mechanical stuff: grip, hip, casting the tip, stopping the cut at an appropriate juncture, etc. We also focus on mental preparedness to perform a follow-up action (this is part of composure: not just "hit it and quit it" so to speak), however I've noticed that until today my own personal practice has lacked any sort of physical preparedness to follow-up.

Let me explain, and I'll use a particular Krumphau (throwing the point to the hands against someone in longpoint) as an example:

Practicing in the air, I'll either perform the cut with my "step" already taken—to work on engaging the hips—or I'll step and cut, recovering to the same spot. Similar with tameshigiri, although I'm much more likely to advance on the mat, cut, pause-and-reflect, and then retreat. What this has fostered in me as far as free fencing is maybe I'm relatively good at striking Krump, but I might unbalance myself shortly thereafter because I've stepped too deep on an oblique line.. and I've never actually practiced anything from this new position I've found myself in.

What I started doing today, against the pell first surprisingly, was advance, strike a Krumphau, and then advance past the pell, or rotate from where I was after the oblique step and assume longpoint, facing the pell, from my new position. I intend to do this more with test-cutting as well. The idea being that yes, I will approach and strike with intent & good composure, but I will also teach myself to be physically as well as mentally prepared for "whatever comes next." Fluidity of motion. At least this is the theory, but it's one I'll certainly be working on for a while.

And the fight goes on..

After the free fencing done last weekend with our friends at the Kunstbruder Fechtschule, and teaching class today at NYHFA's Poughkeepsie branch, I started thinking about how to deal with reconciling the sport-fencing mentality and the Ernstfechten mentality that we at NYHFA try to cultivate.

What are some of the pitfalls* of sport fencing?
* Assuming of course one's goal isn't to become the best tournament fighter in the world, ever. If that's your goal, then ignore all this.

1] Little or nonexistent cutting intent: sacrificing cutting ability (since it's "irrelevant") for an artificially increased speed in hitting, recovering, etc.

2] No fear of the weapon: because it's not a weapon, it's a flattened stick and no matter how hard anyone tries, it's not going to cut you. Adding masks, gloves, gambesons, etc., there's less of a chance that it will even hurt you.

3] Rapid-fire attack mode: because it doesn't matter if you get hit incidentally (see #2), and you're not actually trying to cut through anyone (see #1), you can attack in a frenzied, "suicidal" manner. Or, you can continue the fight even after receiving a blow that, with a real sword, would have incapacitated you and ended the altercation.

I'm sure there are plenty of others, even without getting into issues inherent with particular sword simulators.

Now, what can we do about it? Sure, one can get into an academic pissing-match in the salle or on the forums: "But he would've been dead if blah blah.." Or, one can be a little more Zen about it, "I'm fighting myself, there is no other opponent" (i.e. I'll fight as purely as I can, even though it probably appears that I'm slow, that I'm constantly losing, etc.) One can always just cross over and play their game.. but that'll probably end up degrading into a sloppy slug-fest. There is a synthesis to be found though, it's one that Mike and I have discussed a bit, which is fencing to punish bad fencing: They keep rushing in? Pommel strike to the face hard. Leading cuts with their forearms? Snipe their hands hard. This seems kind of vindictive—and let's be honest, it kind of is—but hopefully it will instill at least a healthy respect for the weapon in your hands and thereby force them to think twice about what it is they're doing.

NYHFA Poughkeepsie's new sword rack

Equipment doesn't make a school.. students make a school. But equipment does tend to help. Here's a sword rack I whipped up this afternoon:

Character

A lot of people talk about character in martial arts, but what does that mean? The simpler aspects of character are easy to define. Respect for your teacher, respect for your seniors, your fellow students, your art. But how are they developed? How does one manifest these qualities?

To the non-martial artist, these may seem like easy concepts, clearly visible and manifested with polite words and smiles. But this is on the surface only, and quite fragile. I don’t know anyone who was born with character, though it certainly can happen. True character is, at least in my experience, developed over many years and tested daily.

So what is character? Brian Sherry, during his presentation at Swordfest, put into words what I have been thinking about for quite some time. Character in martial arts is coming to practice no matter how hard or far away it is, and working through pain, fatigue, frustration and despair. It is practicing relentlessly on your own to perfect your technique and then coming to class and having your technique ripped apart, criticized and corrected, day after day, year after year. It is earning your next rank after months or years of grueling work, only to realize that it is only another rung in a ladder that will never, ever end, with each rung harder to climb than the one before. And yet despite all of this, you keep going, you never give up. You trust your teacher, you trust your seniors, and you trust yourself. You accept the fact that you will never be as good as you hope to be, that with every gain in skill and ability will come the realization that there is much more to learn than you ever realized before.

This is character for a martial artist. The other things, respect for teacher, seniors, fellows, these things come as a consequence of this process, and when thus developed they are not fragile. They stand the test of time, conflict and hardship. If you have never been there, never kept going and going despite the despair of failure, the constant pressure to do better, the never ending chase of the carrot on a stick that is always just out of reach, then you do not have this character. You may have earned it elsewhere, be it in military service or a grueling ordeal of another kind, but you did earn it, you did not just wake up one day and decide that you had it. Maybe you obtained it on your own, without a teacher, by pushing yourself as a teacher would, by persevering despite your own never ending criticism. I know several people like this, and their character is real, and tested. Whatever the case, if you have it, you earned it, and you should be proud.

In HEMA, this character is often hard to come by. This is not the fault of HEMA practitioners themselves, but of the nature of HEMA. There are few genuine teachers, few authorities to push you, to challenge you. The culture of HEMA encourages people to disdain authority, to seek answers in books and in themselves. This is a shame. Character is not found in books, fancy words, ideals or period clothing.

The good thing is, it is never too late. It was not too late for me, and though my journey is long, I have begun it. And it is never too late for you. No matter how high up the ladder you are, if it is a ladder of your own making then get off. Go find another ladder and start climbing it only to have someone knock you off and make you fight for every rung. The reward will soon become self evident.