I've always was interested in histories, not the major political stuff, just the more intimate, bizarre happenings that have gone on. Like Catherine the Great of Russia letting a horse rape her, or the fact syphilis was the disease of European royalty for many years. Did you know Italy was the first ever to develop the fighter jet during WW2 that worked? It wasn't the Germans nor the Americans.
Campini-Camproni Italian Jet Fighter
I used to watch a show called “Connections” by BBC way back then. In it they follow the various inventions and how they have changed the world. In one of them, the narrator describes why the knight of Medieval times was the “tank.” In his armor, he could defeat pretty much any serf conscript that assailed upon him. In battle with another knight, the slugfest could go on and on.
The narrator speaks of this while holding a bastard sword on his shoulder. The camera pulls out to include him and a side of beef hanging by a chain from a tree bough.
“This is how your Medieval knight earned his keep” says Burke. He then, with all his might, swings the sword into the beef. He nearly clops it in half. I sat there in my chair wide eyed. “Jesus!” I thought.
After about five swings into it, the side of beef is hanging lopsidedly with huge gaps in it.
Burke then goes onto describe where he is. “In this field, in 1415, the English army under Henry V defeated the French nobility. This is Agincourt, where 15,000 French soldiers died and perhaps, 100 English died.”
The wide victory for the English was due to use of the longbow, and the fact the French knights, in their heavy armor, were corralled onto a muddy farm field which impeded their ability to advance and fight. They were slaughtered like pigs.
The type of sword the English used was called a “bastard” sword due to it being a bit different than the usual ones. It comes to a thin point which is just perfect for slicing into the gaps of armor. You had to get personally very close and find that gap and shove it in, all the while the opposing knight is trying to lop your arms off.
I wanted a bastard sword. I found one too, well, nearly.
Albion Swords Ltd fashions, from historical swords, replicas in exact detail. They're also “battle ready” meaning they have a razor's edge on them.
I imagined how cool it would look on my wall. Also, it's not some cheapo sword you can get at some knife shop at the mall. This was the real deal. Until I thought about it for a bit.
Knowing me, I just couldn't leave it on the wall. I'd have to go into the backyard and swing it around some, over my head. I'd make some thrusts with it and then finally, I'd have to see what it can cut.
I'm sure I'd slice through a soda bottle full of water. Perhaps a small branch, then a larger one, and then...
Then...I'm sure the sword would bounce off something I'd hit it with and then sink into my calf.
How foolish am I going to look at Memorial hospital with a massive laceration on my leg and then explaining why I had one to the Dr?
I never got the sword. I know myself too well.
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