It’s been four years since I published a post on this blog. Writing a book, plus a doctoral thesis, serving part-time as an officer in the army, and last but not least – family – I haven’t really had the energy or desire to write. But now, sitting on the sofa during the Christmas holidays, I feel the desire again.
While looking through my documents, I found a reflective text I wrote in 2024 but never finished. It’s about my experiences after attending a medieval reenactment event as a participant for the first time in quite a few years. Not having any organisational responsibility meant a bit of a new beginning. Hopefully, this text will be the first of many to come.
In May last year, for the first time in more than a year and a half, I put on my armour to go out onto a reenactment battlefield. This time it was at Battalia de Cassorate in the small idyllic village of Morimondo, southwest of Milan. It had been 10 years since I last stood on this field, but much was the same. There were many familiar faces from previous years to talk to. Since we flew down, I had borrowed a longsword. I did a few test swings and movements to get a feel for the sword and get my body going after a fairly long break. I try to practise fencing sometimes, but unfortunately, it’s less often than I’d like. I’m not used to wearing armour anymore either. Now, at 46, I feel just as tired after putting on the armour as I remember feeling after fighting a battle at a younger age.
Out on the battlefield, I stood in line and watched what was happening. This time, I had no unit to lead, so I had the opportunity to just be there and experience it. After a while, the lines began to approach each other. Everything felt familiar. The lines approach each other quickly at first and then more hesitantly as you begin to risk attacks from the other side. In different parts of the line, close combat begins with its thrusts. One or more see an opportunity and make a lunge, then retreat when the opposing side acts against them. I too go forward, thrust, parry, thrust, etc. The experience is the same as before, with one exception. After a very short battle, my body screams: BREATHE! What are you doing! Breathe! I needed to retreat back in the formation and give way to my body and let it recover.
After a while, my body recovered and I could once more join in the fighting. This time, it felt like my body rememberd that it had done this many times before, and the breathing needed, to get the body -pressed into the armour- to work, was working. Now it’s started to get really fun. The game of identifying what the opposing formation will do and finding gaps where I could step forward and strike a few blows began. Several fun combat sequences followed, with pauses as the formations manoeuvred. I got confirmation that my armour is worked well, as I have to admit that I got hit quite a bit myself.
Once I got going, it felt like the battle ended very quickly. I was pumped for the second and final battle of the event. It was a fairly hot day. During the battle, some of the opponents made an encirclement. I rushed to that flank and got the opportunity to engage in what was, for me, a very enjoyable battle. I got close to one of my opponents, who was wearing nice armour with a blue jupon. With my left hand, I grabbed his weapon and attacked him with my longsword in one hand, repeatedly striking him in the head. After a battle that felt eventful, but was certainly less than a minute long, my opponent was down on the ground. After this battle, which I enjoyed, my limitations became apparent in the next one. I clashed with another opponent. Initially, it was fairly even, but it became clear how poor my stamina is these days. In the end, I just had to open myself up to be cut down in front of the audience, much to their delight. A little later, I was able to sneak up and participate again.
What I took away from it was that it was incredibly fun. Afterwards, when I got home to a different environment, people asked me if it had been fun. The part where you sit together with friends, joking, drinking and eating good food, is easy to explain to a wider circle of people who are not involved in the kind of history-related activities, that involve wearing clothes from the period. However, the other part, which I personally find so damn fun, fighting with a sword in my hand, is more difficult to explain. What is so damn fun about it? What I have come to realise so far is that these types of activities make me feel completely in the moment and very alive. All focus goes to a chaotic present, where decisions must be made with immediate consequences. This business of being forced to make very quick decisions in a chaotic situation, based on incomplete information, is something I have always found enjoyable during military exercises. Before I continue, I just want to say that I hate war and the atrocities that occur in all wars. However, there are situations when practising something that arouses enthusiasm in me. And it is in situations where practising requires quick, immediate decisions. When sufficient training has been done, the decision comes immediately, like an instinct, when certain parameters that you recognise from before arise. The feeling when the impressions come in, are processed and then result in a decision that is implemented is something that captivates me. For me, it is the same feeling that comes when I have a sword in my hand. I think others can probably experience the same thing in a kayak on a rapid or when skydiving. It can certainly arise in various sports such as football, which I myself have never really understood the appeal of, but where you are faced with the same type of quick decision-making, which, when successful, arouses an inner euphoria.
I fully understand that to others who are not like me, I seem like a very strange person, an adult who enjoys fencing. But that’s how I am. I will continue to do what I do and think about why I enjoy it so much. Even though it gets a little harder every year.
History, craft, warfare 