and aggression as well as teaching future warriors how to fight. Self defense dealt with what to do if attacked. If attacked by a bigger, or by a smaller assailant. If attacked by an assailant with a knife. If assailed with a gun from afar they were to seek cover or submit. If threatened with a pistol from very close, and you didn’t think submitting would save your life, you might try to disarm by striking or twisting the weapon in the direction that flexes the attacker’s wrist and relaxes the fingers to prevent the trigger being pulled. Multiple different techniques were taught, based in different fighting styles, many of them “fighting dirty” in common parlance, but when your life is on the line…
For combat sessions they squared off in marked circles they called “pits,” wearing cushioned headgear and swinging pugil sticks. The sticks were about four and a half feet long with heavy pads at the end. Of course, Phil thrived at it. His wrestling physique, conditioning, speed, and combative tendencies stood him well. Sergeant Mason, their large black instructor, took one look at Phil and used him for a demonstration bout. Phil and Mason moved through some of the strikes and counters in slow motion and finally went through a very brief bout where Phil tried to break through Mason’s defenses without success. The sergeant then paired off same sex cadets of approximately equal size and they took turns in the pits while the Sergeant Mason bellowed directions. Most of the matches were real flails. At that altitude, after a preliminary run out and around the fields, swinging those big staffs while someone else tried to pound you wore a body out in a hurry. Phil’d been paired with Jason, the other guy who’d done some wrestling, because Jason was almost a physical match. Jason busted him a couple of good ones but Phil knocked him out of the circle without too much trouble. They took a tongue-lashing from the instructor for their tendency to wrestle with the sticks instead of striking with them, but you could tell Sergeant Mason wasn’t really very upset. Phil really didn’t take too much interest in the other matches until the first time Ell got in the circle—then that contest held his rapt attention!
Ell had been paired off with a woman named Joy Denson who had a couple of inches on Ell. Thinking about his parking lot encounter, Phil found himself expecting Joy to be crushed by the bitch. Well they fought like a couple of ladies at tea. Tap, tap, tap with their staffs, no single swing hard enough that the other woman couldn’t catch it on her staff with plenty of time. Sergeant Mason purpled up, looking to explode. “You GIRLS knitting out here?”
They stopped, “No, Sir!” In unison no less.
“Well those sticks aren’t clickin’ together any harder’n my old grandma’s needles! Denson, you afraid you might hurt cadet Donsaii?”
“No Sir!”
“You ladies think, when lives are on the line, that kind of effort’ll be good enough?”
In unison again, “No, Sir!”
“Well then. You ATTACK, for god’s sake, ATTACK!”
Donsaii and Denson turned back toward one another and Denson, Phil gave her credit, she really waded in. She swung that staff, hard as she could, fast as she could and managed to look like her life might actually depend on it. But she didn’t touch Ell. Most of the other cadets probably didn’t notice what was happening out there but it sent a chill up Phil’s spine. Denson didn’t even rap her on the knuckles. Every swing Denson made struck nothing but wood. Donsaii’s staff magically interposed itself over and over and over and over… Most of the other cadets thought Denson was wailing on her, and in a sense she was… but not even an accidental whack struck home amidst all of Denson’s fury.
Mason bellowed again, “YOU THERE, STOP! Donsaii!”
“Yes Sir!”
“You ever hear that the best defense is a good offense?”
“Yes Sir!”
“You think you maaght
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