How to Use a Sword by The Mirror
This column was written by Katherine Derbyshire, Shobu Aikido of Boston
Second of two parts
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Disclaimer: Swords, even wooden practice weapons, are dangerous. Do
not attempt anything discussed here without qualified, in-person
instruction.
The first part of this article, "How to make a sword," looked at
pre-modern metallurgy and sword making. This article considers what to
do with a sword once you have one, covering etiquette, sword care, and
basic principles of swordsmanship. Just as modern gun safety courses
teach how to handle and care for a gun before issuing live ammunition,
the young swordsman would have learned basic sword care early, perhaps
as a squire or valet before he was old enough to have a sword of his
own.
Iron rusts, especially when immersed in salty liquids like blood. Most
ancient steels were simple iron and carbon alloys, and as such would
rust almost instantly on exposure to air. Nickel alloys, for instance
from meteorite iron, would have been much more rust resistant and
would have been especially valuable for that reason. (Such alloys
might have been considered magical, too.) For the most part, though,
swords rusted. To prevent rust, a swordsman would want to clean the
blade as soon as possible after use, touch up the edge with a
whetstone, and store the blade with a light film of oil. Any oil would
do, including those used for the care of leather or wooden
furniture. Routine sword care would also include inspecting the
fittings holding the hilt onto the blade. A katana is held to the
tsuka, or hilt, by wooden pegs that go through the hilt and the
blade. If these fittings break, the sword could come apart in the
owner's hand, with unpleasant consequences.
(http://anime.jyu.fi/~saren/Docs/Sword.html#PARTS has a brief glossary
of the parts of a katana.)
After sword care, the next most important element of basic
swordsmanship was etiquette and safety. One of the most important
principles of both etiquette and safety is to always respect the
lethal potential of another person's blade, much as you should always
assume that a gun is loaded. For example, you should always handle a
sword in its sheath if possible, or else with the cutting edge in a
neutral direction. Just as you would hand a gun to someone by the
barrel or with the barrel pointed downward or skyward, you would hand
a sword to someone in a way that allowed them to grab it safely.
In most cultures, it was a grave insult to strike the sheath of the
sword while it was being carried, or to step over a sword resting
beside its seated owner. Both of these are insulting because they
ignore the danger of the sword and intrude on the owner's personal
space. Correct behavior would leave the swordsman room to draw --
which usually means avoiding an arc to his front and right -- and
would avoid intruding into his dead area -- usually behind and to his
left.
Similarly, when handling your own sword, it's polite to do so in a way
that makes your peaceful intentions -- if they are peaceful --
clear. Most swords are designed to kill or maim with a single cut. You
should never point a gun at something that you're not prepared to
shoot. Similarly, threatening someone with a sword, or even
threatening to draw your sword, was generally considered a lethal
threat, allowing the other person to use lethal force in
self-defense. The practical consequences of this rule depended on the
culture. In Japan, for instance, it was correct to place your sword to
your right while sitting (on the floor), a position from which it
would be very difficult to draw the blade. Most lords, in all
cultures, allowed only their most trusted subordinates to carry swords
in their presence.
Once schooled in these basics, the young swordsman would be ready to
start learning the basic components of his style. Most of my examples
are drawn from Kashima Shin Ryu, discussed in Karl Friday's book,
Legacies of the Sword.
First, you have to hold the sword properly. The correct grip places
the left hand at the end of the hilt -- precisely where depends on the
style -- and the right hand slightly below the tsuba, or hand
guard. Hold the sword with the hilt roughly level with your obi knot,
the point aimed at the eyes or throat of an imaginary opponent. Step
forward with the right foot. This is the seigan stance. The ideal is a
relaxed but strong stance, from which the sword naturally returns to
the centerline if knocked aside. With an opponent standing in the same
stance and both blades touching at their tips, both combatants are
safe. That is, either must take a step forward to strike the
opponent's body. From this stance, neither party is vulnerable, and
neither can attack effectively. There are stories of sword masters
standing in this position for hours, both waiting for the other to let
his guard slip and create an opening.
Videos at http://www.stenudd.com/aikibatto/video.htm
show a variety of sword stances and cuts, including the correct way to
draw or sheath a katana.
For a slightly more aggressive stance, step back with the right foot,
simultaneously raising the sword to your right shoulder. The left hand
should be roughly level with the shoulder, and the blade vertical,
perpendicular to the ground. From here, you can raise the sword above
your head, then step forward with the right foot while simultaneously
cutting straight down. This is shomenuchi: forehead
cut. Alternatively, you can step forward while slicing diagonally
across your opponent's chest from shoulder to waist, kesa giri.
If your opponent hasn't moved from his initial stance, you don't want
to do either of those things, because he isn't open. Instead you might
lower your sword behind you, until your left hand is at your waist,
your right hand just behind you, and your sword is hidden by your
body. From here, you can bring the sword around in one continuous
motion so that it comes up underneath your opponent's guard. Lunge
forward with the right foot and you have tsuki, a skewer in the
belly.
Your opponent has choices as well. As you raise your sword, you are
vulnerable. Your opponent could attempt to drive his sword up under
your chin -- which is a vulnerable spot even in armor -- or he could
attempt to cut your wrist (kote) as you raise the sword over your
head. In all of these cuts, the driving force comes from the legs, not
the arms. The leg muscles are stronger and can generate more
power. They're also faster, in that it is faster to move the whole
body as a unit than to attempt to control the weight of the sword with
just the arms.
Because the cut is driven by the legs, it is difficult to block. It
has all of the attacker's strength behind it, so an attempt to stop it
by strength alone is likely to be futile. Instead, defenses focus on
parrying, guiding the blade so that it just misses, and on
avoidance. For example, one response to the basic shomenuchi cut is
the shomen block. As your attacker strikes, so do you, attempting to
meet his blade as it comes down, deflecting it off the center line,
and gaining control of the centerline yourself. A second alternative
is to step to the side -- left is easier for right-handed people --
raising your own sword parallel to your body with the blade pointing
down. The stroke will, you hope, slide off your blade, allowing you to
bring your sword behind your head and strike at his head or neck from
the left side.
These don't always work. There's a visual pun in which the characters
for life and death are written on opposite sides of a sheet of rice
paper, the idea being that the line between life and death is as thin
as the paper. Parry or move too soon, and your attacker can alter his
attack to compensate. Move too late and, well, you're too late.
Because the margin for error was so small, quite often both the
attacker and the defender could land killing blows simultaneously. The
acceptance of death for which the samurai were famous was a necessity
given the slim one in three chance of surviving any given fight.
A fight between two Japanese swordsmen consists of a series of
strikes, parries, counterstrikes and counter parries, in too many
possible combinations to detail here. Still, each individual step
strikes at a precise target, followed by the minimum necessary parry
or body movement, followed by another strike at a precise
target. Blindly flailing away, as most beginners (and many actors) do,
is a good way to get killed. In training, a swordsman would repeat the
same cut or pattern of cuts and parries many times, with and without a
partner, until the movements became natural.
Though cuts and blocks are the basic "particles" of swordsmanship,
realistic situations require an appreciation for two key principles as
well: control of space and control of time. These apply to some extent
in any form of hand-to-hand combat, and even extrapolate to
war-fighting strategies that are still in use today.
Control of space is perhaps the more important of the two. If the
attacker and defender are too far apart, neither can reach the
other. If they are too close together, a sword becomes a danger and a
hindrance to its owner. In modern warfare, a nation with airplanes
enjoys a huge advantage over a nation without them. In medieval
combat, a fortified position in a castle is much stronger than an
unfortified position outside the walls. In hand-to-hand combat, the
side with the longer reach enjoys an advantage.
Yet there are exceptions to every rule. Airplanes are most effective
against fixed targets like buildings, much less effective against
highly mobile small units. A fortified castle can become a trap if the
enemy is able to poison the water supply or throw plague-ridden bodies
over the walls.
For swords, long reach and lack of mobility usually go together. A
sword has substantial inertia. If an attacker is able to get inside
the reach of a longer weapon, the defender may be nearly
helpless. Consider how difficult it would be to use a sword against
someone close enough to stab you with a stiletto.
Still, getting inside a long reach is usually easier said than
done. There are many historical cases where small units have held
mountain passes and castle gates against far superior numbers. In
1569, at the Battle of Mimasetoge, 10,000 troops under Takeda Shingen
defeated 20,000 attackers at Mimase Pass (southwest of what is now
Tokyo). At the far more famous (at least in the West) Battle of
Thermopylae in 480 BC, less than 7000 Greek spearmen fought several
hundred thousand Persians to a standstill in a narrow pass. The Greeks
were defeated only after the Persians were shown a mountain path
allowing them to attack the pass from both sides.
In such situations, both attacker and defender strive to reduce the
amount of space available to the opponent, while increasing their own
maneuvering room. For a lone swordsman, the ideal defensive position
would be at the top of a flight of stairs, with walls close in-but not
too close-on both sides and a long hallway behind him.
As the number of defenders increases, so does the amount of space
needed. To be effective, each swordsman needs a half circle in front
of him with a radius roughly equal to the length of the weapon plus
his arm length. The space required becomes more oval with skewering
weapons, since they must strike more or less perpendicular to the
target to be effective. Especially for one-handed weapons, the
effective arc will be slightly off center, favoring the side of the
dominant hand. (This is the most important difference when dealing
with a left-handed swordsman. A left-handed swordsman's strong side is
his right-handed opponent's weak side, and vice versa.)
The amount of space needed behind the swordsman varies depending on
the degree of backswing required by the particular weapon. It could be
as small as zero, or as large as several feet. Two swordsmen can fight
effectively back-to-back as long as there is sufficient distance
between them. Numbers greater than two can fight back-to-back in a
circle whose radius depends on the backswing distance.
These are ideal distances. As the available space shrinks, cuts and
blocks are likely to become more abbreviated, and therefore less
effective. Cuts will have less power behind them; blocks will allow
less space between blade and target. At extremely small distances, say
less than 3/4 the length of the blade, a sword is likely to just be in
the way. If the attacker and defender can touch their fingertips
together if both extend their arms in front of them, the distance is
more appropriate for knives or fists than for swords.
If the first principle is control of space, the second is control of
time, also known as the initiative. As the saying goes, the best
defense is a good offense. For both armies and individuals, the side
which chooses the time and place of the attack has an advantage over
the side that must defend everything. A good defensive emplacement
might include a deliberate weakness, in order to lure the attacker to
a specific spot.
In swordsmanship, control of time often manifests itself in movements
which have both offensive and defensive components. A parry creates
space to step in for the next attack, for example. The difference in
initiative can be as small as the first step towards a strike, or as
large as the advantage the attacker gains if the defender falls down
or breaks his sword. The larger the difference, the more dangerous it
the situation is for the defender.
To get lost initiative back, it helps to distract the opponent
somehow. A swordsman who has fallen might throw a rock or a handful of
sand to gain an instant to roll out of the way. A disarmed swordsman
might try to close the distance in order to bring his secondary
weapon, such as knife or shield, into range. Many Japanese martial
arts evolved with precisely this scenario in mind: what to do if
deprived of your sword.
Aikido in particular remains very aware of its roots in sword
techniques. Some teachers have said that sword teaches the precision
essential to empty-handed technique, while empty-handed technique
teaches the softness essential to sword. Even those who rarely teach
sword techniques as such often use a bokken to demonstrate correct
movement or to show the futility of resistance. I hope this
necessarily superficial introduction to the sword has piqued your
curiosity and leads to further study.
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