The question of "how much training time does one need?" has been on the mind of late.

A couple weeks ago I was talking a friend through purchasing their first handgun, what training they were looking for, how much practice time they could/should take and so on.

And recently it's been a side topic of discussion with some colleagues over how much training time is considered good or adequate or even above average over in the stage/screen combat world.

And few outside the fight choreography world know this, but there's a particular boom-and-bust cycle usually centered around pilot season. It goes something like this:

1. Combat-heavy show is announced in the trades.
2. Every actor fitting the description of the combat-heavy roles chases what combat training they can get.
3. The show gets cast.
4. The bulk of actors training, not being cast, suddenly lose interest in combat training.

The short answer to my original question is the ever-dependable copout of "it depends."

That said, I did some math on real-world operator training time, specifically USMC grunts.

So the question becomes, on average, how much combat training time to people who fight for a living get?

Grab a pencil and a calculator, we're off!

Call it 8 hours training time a day starting from boot camp (8 hour days, my ass, but long hours plus hurry-up-and-wait time makes it close enough for government work.)

8hrs/day, 7days/week. Figure 3 weeks of actual combat training (as opposed to other business being taken care of). That covers grass week, range week, BWT and Semper Fu. That takes us to 168 hours by the end of boot.

Off to SOI (Grunt school). Now, our non-grunts go to a short version of grunt school. It's a month long, 7days/week. That adds another 224 hours. 392 in total by the end.

Now bear in mind, this is for our cooks, clerks, and mechanics. 392 hours to ensure that even if they do nothing but push paper the rest of their careers, they at least know what a raid, ambush, patrol, and guard post look like from both sides.

Refresher training? Figure about 2 weeks annually. Call it 80 hours/year.

Now back to our grunts.

 SOI for grunts is a 2-month course, minus weekends but similar hours.

That gives us 320 hours in SOI, 488 hours total.

That does NOT give me an advanced level of warfighter. That gives me a boot that can be called upon to shoot who they're supposed to 4 falls out of 5.

Let's be generous and say that on dropping to the fleet, what with this, that, and the other, our new Grunt gets about 2 month's worth of training before deploying. That covers ITX (which they used to call CAX, Mojave Viper, and other things) and about a month's worth of miscellaneous field ops, ranges and so on. Add another 320 hours.

Now we're at 808 hours. To get someone competent in at least 3 weapons systems and familiar in at least 4 more. (YMMV depending on specific MOS).

Now deploy them. 7 months. Full time. Is that always combat? Nope. But I'll use the 9-5 M-F option again to distinguish patrols, raids, and combat from working parties, standing post, and suchlike. Again, mileage may vary, but it's the yardstick we've been using so we'll get some good rough numbers from it.

Now we're at 808 hours of training and 1120 hours of experience. 1928 in total. To create what grunts call a "one-hump chump." Still might be a dirtbag of some variety. But on the whole, generally reliable and effective fighters with their own weapons systems. Some may have effective cross-training outside their MOS. A few might even be ready to lead teams soon.

A good skillset. And like all skill sets, perishable if not used.

Not only that, but keep in mind what these numbers don't cover...

- Workouts. Training burns some calories, PT builds more. So tack a good workout schedule on that.

- Study. There are a lot more bibliophilic grunts than you'd think. For every one that's reading Hustler, there's another that's reading Gates of Fire and On Combat, and a third reading both, along with some Clauswitz, Musashi, and Kipling.

-Any manner of super secret special ninjas black classified elite pick-your-own-hardcore-adjective training. I've been talking about standard Marine ground-pounders. Highly skilled, not-to-be-fucked-with ground pounders, but ground pounders all the same.

Something to keep in mind when judging exactly how well trained a weekend seminar makes you.

So, what popped up on my feed today was this: The 5 most dangerous guns in America.

One only has to take a glance at the comments to see that the author of the piece is taking quite a pasting.

I'm neither apologizing for this article's existence nor the more tasteless comments it's spawning.
(Fwiw, I've only seen a few dozen comments, and have yet to see threats or things of that nature. If such happen, I hope to see investigation and, if warranted, prosecution.)

That said, I do want to see the record set straight.

So I'm going to grade it. Out of 100 points.   

Bear in mind: this is Rolling Stone. It published Generation Kill, for fuck's sake. I am holding it accountable as far as accuracy, grammar, structure, flow, and pacing go.

Slide 1 - Deadly weapons

(Availability, portability and criminal usage are your markers? These are never used or mentioned again in the piece)

- Accurate percentages per 2012 UCR, tables 8 and 20. Good job.

Full credit.

Slide 2 - Pistols

-1 grammar: Unnecessarily hyphenated "handgun-owners."

-5 Factual error: Neither a built-in barrel (whatever that means) nor a short stock define a pistol.

-5 Factual error: a stock is not organic to the pistol, regardless of length. That said, a rare one (the Hk VP-70, the Broomhandled Mauser) have one as an attachable accessory.

-5 Factual error: Glock is a manufacturer. "Glocks" are a model line and not an individual pistol in and of itself.

-1 Incongruity: Your source for police market share (which I'm assuming is Wikipedia, as you damn near quoted it word for word) dated to 2008. Springfield XD is growing rapidly, though not at a level to replace Glocks as yet. Only taking a point for this one.

Slide 3 - revolvers

-5 Poor sentence structure:  A revolver has multiple chambers contained within a cylinder that rotates.
(What the fuck is a "rotating chambered cylinder?")

- 5 Factual error: the cylinder rotates, not the barrels, with the exception of multibarreled machine guns such as the M134 Minigun.

- 5 Glaring omission: You're using action as a way to delineate firearm types? Insufficient explanation of the difference.

Slide 4 - rifles

- 5 Factual error: How many projectiles a rifle fires per trigger pull is determined by the action (automatic as opposed to semi-auto, bolt, lever, ect.), not by the fact that it's a rifle.

- 5 Historical error: Musket balls were most often loosely fit for ease of loading. Manufacturing difficulty had nothing to do with it. Muskets and rifles were used side-by-side for well over a century before the Minie ball's invention in the 1840's.

Slide 5 - Shotguns

- 1 Clarity: What is a "fixed shell?" What significant difference does it have from a rifle cartridge?

Slide 6 - Derringers

- 2.5 factual error: Jurisdictions make legal definitions. Some define a derringer, some do not.

- 5 Spelling error: "assault weapons have bee linked to..." You mean "have been?"
(You're Rolling Stone, for Fuck's sake! Proofread, dammit! )

- 5 Factual error, poor word choice: "High-capacity-magazine-assault weapons?" If you mean assault weapons that use high capacity magazines (I've given up hoping that you know what high capacity actually means in this case), then say so.

- 5 Factual error, off topic: Who links Assault weapons to mass shootings? I don't care if information is difficult to access. If you don't have it, don't claim it. If it's conjecture or speculation, say so.

- 5 Poor structure: If you're going to go and make your own definition, then say so. Also, shoehorning in an assault rifle paragraph in a slide on derringers is lazy. 


-65.5

Grade: 34.5/100

- Appalling lack of research, poorly structured, and heavily damages the credibility of the stated position. The Introduction set up three statistical variables as what would determine "most dangerous," and followed only one of them. Absolutely no effort was made at determining the various capabilities of these weapons, only in forming a weak narrative that supported a weaker premise.

I expect better from Rolling Stone.

~J.

Yep. You read that right.
I'm justifying teacupping.
Hell, I've done so once in a private class and once on a gig in the past month, I might as well keep at it.

For those who don't know what I'm talking about, "teacupping" is a derogatory term used for a certain way of gripping a handgun that's currently out of favor.

In fact, nowadays I'd have to say in the top ten of "things to make your firearm advisor happy on set," "not teacupping" might rank just below "calling it a magazine, not a clip," and "not flagging me."

So, what is it? What makes it a bad thing? (if it even is a bad thing?) Why the bad rap?

History lesson time.

For the bulk of its existence, the pistol was a one-handed weapon. Once technology could scale down from the "handgonnes" of earlier times, the pistol became a favored backup weapon alongside the saber and cutlass, not to mention reins or rigging. Until WWI, U.S. Army holsters were designed to cross-draw, reflecting a right-handed officer's instinct to use the sword with the right hand and pistol with the left.  

Here and there, two-handed grips were used for whatever reason, but on an ad hoc basis. It's my personal belief that the first use of a two-handed grip was what we now call The Teacup.

This grip is almost invariably the first two-handed grip that an untrained shooter uses.

The reason is simple. With the pistol operable with one hand, the other is relegated to a support role. The most immediately needed support to a new shooter the vast majority of the time isn't against recoil, but against weight. Pistols are heavy, so the support hand naturally rests under the butt to take some of the weight off of the shooting hand.

Looking at it this way, teacupping is the untrained, but natural and instinctive response to having to hold a pistol two-handed.

It felt so natural the U.S. Army was recommending it in WWII.

(Teacupping ensues at 5:20)

So, if teacupping is a natural and instinctive response, what's the big deal?

Well, the major sin of teacupping these days is inefficiency at worst. When actually shooting, the support hand offers no support against the force of the shot (what with coming from the wrong direction and all), leaving the shooting arm to absorb the recoil.

There's a couple different ways to be more efficient. Jack Weaver took a teacup and turned it into a sort of piston grip by having the support hand pull back while the shooting hand pushed forward. This helped get the pistol back on target after the force of the shot lifted the muzzle up.

The most popular grip these days, however, seems to be a wraparound of one kind or another.

In this particular case, the support hand comes up on the side, fingers sliding into the grooves left on the grip by the fingers of the shooting hand. The shooting hand's thumb curls down and forward, paralleling the thumb of the support hand.

(Hint: if you ever hear gun enthusiasts yell "thumbs forward!" while watching an action scene, this is what they're talking about.)

What this grip ends up doing is keeping the grip balanced between both hands, giving the shooter the strength of both arms (and in some instances, the torso) to alleviate the effects of recoil.

That's pretty much it.

So, why teacup in a gunfighting scene if you know that?

Any number of reasons: an untrained character, a period piece (wraparound grips didn't become popular until the great pistol technique argument was kicked off by folks like Cooper, Weaver, and Chapman in the late 50's-early 60's), character fatigue or injury (where a steady shot is more important than recovery for follow-up shots), or any number of other reasons.

I can recognize the teacup isn't the best grip out there. But it's there for a reason. And knowing why and how lets me and my performers come to a more informed choice, and ultimately, a more nuanced story.

~J.

Been a busy time the last month and change.

The biggest for anyone reading this is the move of the site over to the current digs, which are much, much easier on my limited coding skills. Between a host and a wysiwyg editor that even a savage like me can understand, I got this place up and running in an afternoon, where the old site would have taken me weeks. As an unfortunate consequence, the old email (Jay at Jaythebarbarian dot com) no longer exists. It was mostly a redirect anyway, and there's a handy button at the top that will accomplish the same thing.

Went up to Cincinnati OH to T.A. at the Cease & Desist workshop. Fun was had all round, saw a lot of old friends and made some new ones. Actually went up a day early to go shooting with some friends. Ready Line outside Cincy is a brand new facility with a really nice setup.

Did some work on Public Enemy #1 (an action-comedy short) and a music video for a film school bud of mine, along with a day of military advisement for a production of Ruined.  

Gig-wise, its been a tad slow lately. But I haven't minded, as that means I've had the time to photograph and catalog my rental stock page. Local business has already picked up, and made the "Jay, do you have a ...?" questions answerable with a quick url.

And in the coming soon section, the Theatrical Firearms Handbook, penned by Kevin Inouye over at Fight Designer. Definitely looking forward to this one.

Spent the last several days in the shop, making about a dozen viking-style round shields. By the end I may well have enough to build a literal wall.

~J.

Oh yeah, my new business cards came in the other day, too.

Over in my last post, I gave an overview of killology and my current thoughts on both the science and the 2 seminal works on the subject. This time around, I’ll be using killology in the sense of breaking down a kill made by a theatrical or cinematic character.

For the purposes of this piece, a kill is considered what happens when one character actively takes the life of another. No leaving someone to die, no ordering someone killed (though these facets may get explored in a later piece), this is to explore someone who takes action themselves to end another’s life.

I’m going to try and avoid following any particular acting style here, regarding this less as a step-by-step process and more of a list of things worth keeping in mind. We’re also focusing on the act instead of the person to break away from both the idea that a “killer” is a certain type of person as opposed to someone who committed an action, as well as the rigid sheep/sheepdog/wolf categories of sheepdog theory.

A cinematic or theatrical kill consists of four parts: The decision, the circumstance, the action effects, and the aftermath effects.

THE DECISION

Based on decision, there are three kinds of kills: A rational kill, an instinctual kill, and anundecided kill.

In a rational kill, the killer actively and consciously considers the circumstances surrounding the kill before making the decision.  The killer might not consider all circumstances, and might or might not consider them very carefully, but the killer will make such considerations before the decision to kill is made.

A rational kill that is unlawful would be considered a premeditated murder.

Theatrical examples: Hamlet’s killing of Claudius, Clarence’s murder from Richard III

In an Instinctual kill, the decision happens as a direct result of a particular stimuli, with no conscious consideration leading up to the decision and subsequent action.  If considered unlawful, an Instinctual kill would be considered 2nd-degree murder or a “crime of passion.”

Keep in mind that a kill that happens quickly is not an Instinctual Kill by default. Say a commando enters a building with rules of engagement to kill any armed person not a member of their team, then an armed man jumps out of the closet and the commando shoots and kills him. Despite its speed, it is considered a rational kill, as there is significant conscious thought before the decision.

Theatrical examples: Romeo’s killing of Tybalt. (1)

In an Undecided kill, the decision is either not made at all or made to kill someone besides the intended victim. In other words, an accidental or negligent kill.

Theatrical examples: Hamlet’s killing of Laertes, Tybalt’s killing of Mercutio(2), any number of “taking a bullet for someone else” scenarios.

THE CIRCUMSTANCES

Circumstances will sound familiar to the dramaturgically inclined among us. It examines a lot of the same cultural, religious, and socioeconomic ground that happens in the analysis of any scripted world. But Circumstances here revolve around reactions to the kill.

Tangible rewards and punishments

These are the various consequences of a kill: the legal process including fines, jail terms, and likelihood of arrest and conviction, what government officials, religious authorities, and the character’s employer are likely to do, and the economic ramifications  (legal defense, loss of employment and the like) of all of the above are. This also includes rewards such as medals, bounties, and commendations.

Intangible rewards and punishments

Intangibles fall under unofficial, individual reactions. How would the character’s family, romantic interests, coworkers, and passersby react in response to the killing? Would the kill increase or decrease their social status? reputation? sexual attractiveness?

The character’s thoughts

The character’s own thoughts come into play with what they believe concerning the kill they consider. Bear in mind A) what the character would or would not admit to another, or even themselves, B) what they believe the result of the kill would be, regardless of what the more likely scenario actually is and C) what the character hasn’t considered in regards to their own opinion. After all, how many people sit down and seriously contemplate how they feel about killing someone?

These thoughts can and often do intertwine with other circumstances mentioned. Hamlet’s refusal to kill Claudius at prayer may be considered an intangible reward/punishment (what the predominant faith believes will become of Claudius’ soul should he die in a state of grace), but it also stems from Hamlet’s personal desire to see Claudius experience prolonged suffering as opposed to simply die at his hands.

general vs specific

When looking at all of the above, bear in mind the difference between a kill in general terms and the specific kill committed by the character. Relationship between killer and killed, social status of killer and killed, method used, and cause to take deadly action all influence the circumstances surrounding the kill.

THE ACTION EFFECTS

Action effects cover the physiological state of the character leading up to, during, and immediately after the kill. Current science does not know why certain effects happen to certain people and not to others. What is known is that the effects shown below do happen on a frequent basis.

((Side note: the Color Condition Code

I could write a whole piece just on the possible theatrical applications of the color code(and might). In a killogical sense, the code developed by Cooper and expanded on by Grossman tracks a state of readiness, with accompanying tracking of heart rate, blood pressure, and motor coordination.

Plot the character’s condition using the code through the entire sequence that features the kill. Keep in mind that the character does not have to follow a linear path from white to yellow to orange and so on. The character may or may not skip steps altogether, or enter the scene in a different condition than usual. Tracking the character’s condition through the act of the killing while exploring the action effects can give us a rough framework for the character’s physiological and psychological state during that time frame. ))

time dilation

Time dilation is when the character’s perception of time alters during a combat situation. Time may seem to speed up, slow down, or both.

Cinematically, we’re most commonly accustomed to time dilation in the form of slow motion. Diegetic time dilation is rarely shown explicitly, but it does happen (3).

Having experienced this one myself, my pet theory on time dilation is that the sensory input comes in too fast for the brain to process, resulting in the fighter’s perception of time slowing down. This is similar to a high-speed camera taking many more frames per second than normal, which becomes a slow-motion shot when played back. The fighter may well be moving extremely fast, but will experience it in slow motion until processing catches up to input.

sensory alteration

Going about in our day-to-day lives, our bodies tune out a lot of our sensory input to prevent our minds from being overloaded with the nuances of what is around us. This is aided by modern marketing’s constant fight over the attention of consumers, which attempt to drown each other out even as people actively or otherwise tune their messages out as well.

In a deadly encounter, the human body opens up the senses in an attempt to gain as much input as possible, whether from the viewpoint of a predator (what bit of information will let me catch lunch?) or prey (what bit of environmental knowledge will keep me from becoming lunch?). The trouble with this is that the little-used instincts of the body now have to decide and emphasize what it thinks is important.

The results can be selective hearing (not hearing gunfire while hearing the ratcheting sound of a gun’s action and the clinking of brass hitting the ground), selective vision (not seeing the face of an opponent, but seeing their weapon hand detailed enough to know the length of the fingernails and engravings on finger rings, visual distortions (especially tunnel vision), and imbalanced reaction to touch (ignoring serious wounds while reacting to simple cuts and bruises).

THE AFTERMATH EFFECTS

Aftermath effects follow anywhere from the first few moments to several months or more following a kill.

The important thing to keep in mind when exploring aftermath effects is looking at whether such effects are the result of the kill itself, or the result of surrounding circumstances (sustained wounds, excess adrenaline, an arrest or detainment, deaths of companions in the same scene, ect).

Memory

As a result of the altered senses described in combat effects, it isn’t unusual for someone experiencing a life-or-death fight to have gaps in their memory, especially if specific aspects are looked for. It would easily be possible for someone to not remember the face of someone who wounded them, but remember what their hands or weapon looked like. Sequence of events, number of shots fired, and any dialogue may be remembered differently or even forgotten by a character.

Interactions with others

The heightened sense of readiness and awareness of the killing character do not die with the one killed. Depending on the circumstances, the character may remain in a high color code condition (red, black, or gray) for several minutes following a kill.

Following the scene, the character’s interactions will likely be colored by the circumstances of the kill. How the character chooses to continue their life will govern their behavior to a large extent.

Keep in mind that there is a major difference between the character coming to terms with their kill and themselves, and the character coming to terms with the reactions of others to that kill. A character who is perfectly content with the kill they made within their own mind may still be reticent in discussing it among colleagues, friends, and family members. They may also face various social pressure to speak of the kill in certain ways as opposed to others.

Fatigue and sleep

Combat is a physically intense activity.  Prolonged fighting, especially in lethal scenarios, can easily lead to exhaustion.  Once a character’s body is convinced that the need to keep in a fighting state is over, heavy fatigue is extremely common, and sleep comes easily (which in some circumstances can be its own danger).

Sleep reactions in the days and months following a kill are most commonly depicted in two forms. The first is a “light sleeper” mentality, when the character maintains a certain state of readiness while sleeping, the better to react if another deadly encounter happens. The second are the adverse reactions of insomnia and nightmares.

Appetite and Libido

Evolutionary biology claims that human beings have four main drives: the need to fight, flee, feed, and fuck, respectively. While it’s not uncommon for a lack of appetite for food or sex to follow a deadly encounter (particularly ones that overwhelmingly disturb the character), it may be even more common for a character in the aftermath of a killing to crave both.

As far as food goes, the high-intensity nature of combat can easily be considered to drive up the metabolism as well as the appetite. This is especially true if the character purged themselves (from either end) before, during, or after the kill.

As far as sex is concerned, “combat as an aphrodisiac” may well join the pile of whole new articles I need to write. Some may consider it an evolutionary impulse: an instinct to breed before one dies. For other characters, it may be a need for intimacy following a traumatic event. And for others, it may be a need to burn off excess energy following their hyped-up state.

((A side note on PTSD: Once more, the subject for a whole ‘nother article. But as someone who has experienced combat but has never had PTSD, I have intentionally excluded its effects in this article. Aside from my own personal inexperience, I have been rather disturbed by the use of PTSD as a cheap source of drama in the past decade or so of cinema. After seeing comrades experience it and having been repeatedly tested for it, I can honestly say that medical science has only scratched the surface of what PTSD is and how it affects trauma survivors. With our understanding of what it exactly it is so premature, we do our survivors grave injustice by depicting it as a one-note way to raise dramatic stakes. They deserve better, and so do our audiences.))

Without going on for more pages than I care to think of, this is a rough guideline to consider when depicting a character’s kill. There are no real cut-and-dried solutions, only ideas from what has come before.

What we remember from characters is what we remember from people: the things that make them unique in how they go through the world: The way they talk, the way they walk, the way they kiss. The way one kills is as unique as the rest of their actions, and should be examined accordingly.

~Jay

Endnotes:

(1)Depending on interpretation, this can be argued, as Romeo does have time to speak, which implies time to think. But the short time frame of the scene combined with Romeo’s “either thou, or I, or both must go with him” convinces me that nothing in Romeo’s thoughts is actually considering the ramifications of killing Tybalt, making the kill itself an Instinctual one.

(2)Varies by interpretation. In this instance, I’m going to take Mercutio’s line “I was hurt under your arm” and roll with it as a killing blow intended for Romeo that catches Mercutio instead.

(3) Most notably in the recent movie Dredd, where the lead villain deals in a drug that alters the user’s perception of time.

Some of my colleagues have been asking me recently about Killology. By that I mean the relatively new branch of science formed by Lt. Col. Dave Grossman (ret) and described in the books On Killing and On Combat (the latter co-authored with Loren W. Christensen). It’s been a couple of years since I’d studied either book in depth, so I went back to go over both for the purpose of this piece.

This is actually the first part in a two-part series. Here I’m going to give an overview of killology as described in the aforesaid books, as well as my own commentary on the science in general, some benefits and flaws, and things I found interesting, odd, or otherwise worth mentioning. Part II will be a look at using killology for theatrical or cinematic performance purposes.

Note that for the purposes of this piece, I’m looking purely at what’s written in On Killingand On Combat, not in any supplemental materials. If that makes this more of a book review than a look on the philosophy, so be it.

Killology’s basic ideas boil down to these:

- Killing is not necessarily murder. There are circumstances when taking a human life is the necessary and right thing to do.

- The vast majority of humanity has an inherent aversion to killing, however…

- … said aversion can be overcome with mental training and conditioning, and has been in various ways over the centuries.

Grossman’s works have been studied extensively by the military, law enforcement agencies, and others who study the act of, for lack of a better term, “good kills.” His study of what happens to a human being during the taking of another human life, in the physical, mental, and psychological sense, has been put to good use among those who have had to do so in recent years.

Grossman’s work (particularly On Killing) has included two major side digressions:

- The first explores the rise in Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder since WWI and the various factors surrounding that.

- The second is a movement against depictions of violence in various forms of media. Although his deepest disdain is reserved for first-person-shooter video games, violent film and television does not escape his ire. As someone whose career involves designing violent scenes for various media, I’m neither going to pretend I don’t have a dog in that fight nor dwell on the subject. I will merely note that Grossman’s views on the matter are expressed rather bluntly in his texts and leave it at that.

The thing to keep in mind when reading either On Killing or On Combat is that killology is a brand spanking NEW branch of science. Before this, killing was studied either in the context of battlefield effectiveness or murder. In essence, Grossman’s work is to studying killing what Alfred Kinsey did for studying sex. That said, just as Kinsey had some serious gaps in his data and work that went unexplored, I think Grossman’s work is just the tip of the iceberg. The next 20-odd years are going to be interesting times for the field.

Out of the major talking points today, I think Universal Human Phobia is going to be the most changed in the future. While aspects of it may be current sociological phenomenon, too much of history is written in bloodshed for me to believe such a thing to be truly universal. Forgive me for using a Barbarism (hell, if anyone’s gonna, it may as well be me), but in the safety of civilization, we too easily forget humanity’s capacity for bloodlust, savagery, and brutality. And modern America has been civilized for quite a long time.

Of the books, On Killing is more raw in form, and it shows. It’s the culmination of years of research, and it reads like the introductory textbook it has become by default.

I’ll admit, on my initial readings in years past I was struck, as many fighters do, with a sense of “finally, someone who understands me!” With the passing of years and a critical eye, a good bit of that remains, but not enough to obscure the flaws.

What became a rather constant irritation to me is the constant cherry-picking of data to support the theory of what Grossman calls “universal human phobia.” (The inherent resistance towards killing one’s fellow humans found in the vast majority of the population)

Again, I’m giving the man full credit for building a new branch of science, and it’s difficult to get significant data on this sort of thing. That said, his historical theories rely very, very heavily on anecdotal evidence (particularly Marshall and Du Pique). A particular habit of his is to rattle off a list of plausible theories for a particular phenomenon, only to declare later that it MUST be what supports universal human phobia.

Case in point: the multiply-loaded rifles of Gettysburg. Grossman mentions an anecdote where 12K weapons recovered after the Battle of Gettysburg were found not only loaded, but loaded with multiple rounds. Grossman makes the case that most of these weapons were left by soldiers who (not wanting to kill anyone) did not fire, but loaded, aimed, mimed firing without actually doing so, and kept up with the rest of the rifle drill along with the rest of their unit. This left multiple loads in the weapon. Later on, he makes an extensive case for conditioning (in the Pavlovian sense) as being the key to overcoming human resistance to kill. In particular, the use of shooting drill among the mass-formation infantry common during the American Civil War.

So which is it?

I can buy tens of thousands of soldiers being able to shoot by peer pressure and intense multiple-count drill in training being used to overcome the universal human phobia he describes. But several thousand managing to not only break their institutional conditioning, but recondition themselves to go through the motions without following through? That I don’t buy.

I find it much more plausible that the proper response to a misfire was for the shooter to remain with the rest of their rank, going through the drill motions and firing in volley until the fire at will command was given. There’s a laundry list of unreliability problems with pre-integrated cartridge weapons out there that could play a part in how many loaded weapons were recovered from that battlefield, be it bad primers, clogged nipples, bad powder, hell, bad weather could have been a factor (heavy rains both preceded and followed the battle, though the first few days of the battle were mostly partly cloudy). But Grossman’s insistence continues to be that universal human phobia combined with human ingenuity met to allow thousands to “get away with” not shooting anyone.

Another aspect of this shows during his crusade against media violence. His claim is that violence in America is skyrocketing, and the murder rate is being held down artificially by advances in medical technology. He therefore uses the aggravated assault rate as an indicator for the increasingly violent actions among the U.S. Population, noting a fivefold increase between 1960 and 1993. (FBI’s Unified Crime report, Aggravated Assaults per 100K people. 86.1 in 1960 vs. 441.9 in 1992). But that argument falls apart in more recent history, as the aggravated assault rate has dropped ever since then, being less than half of what it was in 1993 (252.3 in 2010). I’d venture to go even farther than that, arguing that fights which wouldn’t have resulted in charges (and therefore not counted) are currently doing so. Schoolyard scuffles alone are becoming arrest-worthy charges in ways that weren’t happening just 20 years ago, though I only have anecdotal evidence of that.

To its credit, On Killing does explore a lot of the less often examined aspects of a kill: distance, instinctual responses, group dynamics and an equivalent of the stages of grief psychological model to examine the aftereffects of a killing upon the killer’s psyche. I don’t discredit the book its breadth, but I will say many conclusions seem not only jumped to but tackled far enough for a first down.

On Combat is a more refined book than its earlier cousin, not quite as preachy as its predecessor and less concerned with exploring why people kill as examining the effects that it has on those who kill, whether they be conscious or reflexive, immediate or lingering.

Here is where the limits of killology as it stands now aren’t quite defined but alluded to. Each examination of a lethal force scenario (potential or fulfilled) examine the recorded direct and side effects without trying to draw them up into some breathtaking conclusion. The Cooper color codes are used more as a useful yardstick than an absolute set of limits. Physiological effects (purging, auditory exclusion, memory distortions, effects on the libido) are all listed and examined (occasionally with percentages of known incidents, for the statistically-minded).  Responses, treatments, and preventative measures against PTSD comprise a large portion of the latter half, under the mindset of caring for those who do violence on behalf of others (soldiers, cops, those defending themselves and/or others, and so on). Reading through the various scenarios, I found myself often thinking “yeah, that happened,” rather more often than not.

Where On Combat begins to really quirk my eyebrows is in two places: the constant harping on what Grossman has determined are the necessary elements needed to prevent and treat PTSD, and the (to me) overly simplistic nature of Sheepdog theory.

For those who haven’t heard of sheepdog theory, here’s a link.

Overall, I think there’s a sound idea in there somewhere. But it’s too cut and dried.

I laud his crusade in wanting society in general to treat its warriors better than they have in the last several decades. I particularly laud his mention of those warriors who have had to fight and kill, and then have returned with no psychological trauma, but still face the social stigmas associated with PTSD. After all, who would endure such things and NOT turn out damaged? What was wrong with them in the first place? The idea that nothing is wrong with them was a welcome breath of fresh air.

That said, our limited understanding of what PTSD actually is, let alone any sort of consensus on how treatment and prevention should happen just makes his constant drumbeating about what he believes has to be done more of an annoyance than a call to action in my ears.

As for the sheepdog theory, 2% of the population being the only ones capable of violence? I don’t buy it. It feeds into a heroes, villains and bystanders dynamic more useful to a comic book than reality. Oh, there is a paragraph that mentions this, but it’s buried in the middle of a chapter beating the reader over the head with the idea that sheepdogs are the modern versions of romantic-myth knights of old. While it’s useful as a fable, as far as science goes, Sheepdog theory looks like one of Grossman’s Kinsey moments: he’s on to something important here. What I can’t tell right now is how much or how accurate.

Killology on the whole does exactly what it claims to: looks at killing beyond both the cold judgement of murder and the glorious hails of war stories. There’s a lot more to be learned, and it’s going to take a long time.

It’s a nice start though.

It’s been pointed out to me recently that an awesome lady by the name of Samantha Swords was kind enough to give my previous work a shout-out and then rebut a few of my points in the last part of this article.

(Incidentally, if you haven’t heard of her, you should. Among other things, she’s the 2013 longsword champion at the Harcourt Park World Invitational Jousting Tournament.)

Anyways, got a break in work, so I’ll take the chance to respond as best I can.

Sam says,

“Rashes are usually measured in days, not decades.”

I have no idea what I was going for when I said “Rash.” I was definitely looking for a plural noun of some sort. Damn you autocorrect, maybe? I don’t even know what a collective noun would be for multiple armored lady fighters. A Fury?

“A Fury of armored women strode onto the field.”

Works for me. Anyways…

Sam Says,

“I understand Jay’s point, it’s relatively a larger group of reasonably-attired women on film than the female-fighter-in-media cliche suggests.
Yay for us having role models! I want to be clear that it’s still not *nearly* enough.

The fact Jay calls it a “relative non issue” should show just how bad the situation really is for want of strong, capable, feminine, not-overly-sexualised female role models.”

Damn right it’s not enough. It’s an improvement over history, that’s for sure. And a thankfully growing trend. Without going into several pages on the history of women in action cinema, I’ll just leave it by saying there’s a LOT of catching up to do, despite serious progress.

“Relative non-issue” was probably a poor choice of words. Seeing in the 2010′s multiple well-armored female fighters in a single year on the big screen is something we never would have seen just a few decades ago. (And it’s a damn sight better to what I’ve glanced at in the comic book and video game industries).

But significant improvements don’t mean the issue doesn’t still exist. I concede the point.

Sam Says,

“Any lady who has trained wearing the plastic version of the Double Domes of Wonder should be able to confirm the design isn’t suited to deflect thrusting weapons, which rules out usefulness for practicing historically-accurate fencing styles.”

Not a lady, haven’t worn it, but I agree, if deflection is a key component of the armor style you’re looking for, I wouldn’t go with Double Domes of Wonder either.
(I do like the term though.)

Previously, I said,

“Surprisingly, this is not that big a deal. One reason is that inside shots are rare and easy to defend. Most attacks against an armored opponent come from the outside, and often at an angle.”

Then Sam Says,

“I don’t know what Jay is talking about, but it’s not Western or Historical European Martial Arts. Possibly SCA heavy fighting, or medieval reenactment, or HEMA synthetic longsword competitions, or Battle of Nations, or something that doesn’t involve working from the bind?”

None of the above, actually. I’m a fight choreographer and a stunty. All of my work with a sword is fake fakeity fake fake fake. Having a battle make tactical and martial sense is about third on my priority list of any given work, after “keeping my people out of the hospital,” and “telling the story well.”

That said, (And this is the part where I may upset people), I consider there to be a big difference between Western/Historical European Martial Arts and Western/Historical European Combat. To me, actual sword-on-sword combat is something nobody alive today knows for sure. There’s the occasional sword-related assault or murder, but sword-on-sword combat in the truest sense of the term no longer exists today.

What does exist is W/HEMA and the like, which are sports wrapped around a series of educated guesses and sprinkled with concessions to the safety of the participants. They can tell us a great deal about W/HE Combat, but will always (thankfully) fall short of reality.

(I could write a book alone on the “Is it real?” debate in regards to swords and swordplay, but that’s for another tangent and even I can only digress so much).

As a parallel, I’ll posit this:

Quite a few people out there can tell you what fighting a real gunbattle is like. Thanks to the Iraq and Afghanistan wars, I’m one of them. In recent years, a trend that popped up for training professional trigger pullers is a technology called simunition. Essentially, it turns duty weapons into high-tech gunpowder-propelled paintball weapons. Training scenarios are set up (including antagonists), and the shooters are sent through the scenario in real-time, reacting and shooting as they would in a real gunbattle.

Do a lot of real-world shooting and modern combat techniques come into play during these scenarios? Absolutely.

But something is always held back. In a dozen tiny ways, no training scenario yet designed truly replicates what one has to see and do in an actual combat. It’s subtle in a lot of ways, but more than enough to make differences. It’s a highly specific martial tool. But it’s not combat.

When I claimed a center thrust to be a stupid move, I spoke of what I would deduce would be in a combat situation, not a martial arts move. Not knowing the specifics of Sam’s fighting style, I’ll concede it’s entirely possible to be a very wise move within those confines. It’s just not something I’d use with that type of weapon, against that type of armor, if my life was on the line.

…Unless of course I was up to something and a centerline thrust was part of it, but I’m sneaky that way.

Anyways, my thanks to Ms. Swords, both for the shoutout and rebuttal.

Certa Bonum Certamen,

~Jay

Halloween may have already come and gone this week, but the emphasis on spookiness, folklore, and farming implements is still fresh in the mind, therefore this week’s weapon is the scythe.

The scythe is one of those weapons you rarely see used, but is kinda awesome when you do. My current personal favorite was seeing a mute Amish farmer take on zombies with one in Diary of The Dead.

Of course, the reason it’s used seldom is mostly because it’s an agricultural tool and not a weapon. But then again, a lot of weapons began that way (see the machete, kama, morningstar, axe, ect.)

Your average scythe is around 6′ long, with a blade 2′-3′ wide emerging perpendicular to the handle. It’s invention lies somewhere in antiquity, and has spent far more time as a symbolic weapon in the hands of the Grim Reaper than in those of mortal fighters.

In it’s usual form, the scythe has some pretty hardcore disadvantages in that you can’t attack directly at full extension. Even when facing an opponent in front of you, a slash with the scythe using the handles “normally’ would mean a thrust with the blade at an opponent’s left side. That said, the blade’s inward-facing edge would make for a powerful hooking slash if you managed to get past an opponent’s parry or shield.

On occasion, the scythe would be modified to have the blade extending directly from the handle, making a polearm called a war scythe. Having a peasant uprising full of farmers who were used to swinging such things for hours on end had to suck mightily.

And just to clarify: The last few episodes of Buffy: The Vampire slayer features a weapon consistently referred to as a scythe. It’s actually a battle-axe with a single axe blade and head & pommel spikes. The design makes it look like it began life as a heavy metal guitar. Still awesome, but not a scythe.

“Where do you put the Bayonet?”
-Chesty Puller, upon seeing a flamethrower for the first time.

In an effort to get myself to use this more, I’m adding a new feature: The weapon of the week. Every week I’m going to take a weapon and throw around some history, trivia, and whatever else comes to mind. Some may be meticulously researched, some may be off the top of my head. Either way, I’ll try to make it entertaining.

And with last night’s U.S. presidential election debates fresh in mind, I’m going with the Bayonet as our first weapon of the week.

Bayonets are kinda weird in that they’re an edged weapon that came about as a direct result of firearms (as opposed to say, a rapier, where introducing gunpowder was one of a handful of reasons for it’s evolution). Even as the arquebus became the musket, early guns were still single-shot weapons with short ranges and long reload times. And where they really sucked was in the defense. Muskets were good for reaching out and touching someone (by the standards of the time, anyway), but once you’d fired off your shot and surviving opponents were headed your way, life would suck.

(Note to self: find out the plural of “arquebus.” Arquebii? Arquebuses?)

Suckage was somewhat alleviated by forming mixed-use companies of musketeers and pikemen. Musketeers would fire a volley and reload while pikemen kept the enemy’s charging and ensuing suckage to a minimum. It worked, kinda, but it was clumsy and felt like it. The solution was to merge the 2 weapons.

Why they’re called bayonets is unknown for sure. Best guess I’ve heard is that they started to first crop up in Bayonne (France, not New Jersey).

The first bayonets were jammed into the musket barrel and called “plug” bayonets. Useful if you could only get off one shot, but it also meant everyone could tell that you hadn’t reloaded and weren’t planning to anytime soon (and if you had reloaded, it probably sucked almost as much to stand near you as in front of you). Some Scots called Jacobites once took advantage of British soldiers armed with plug bayonets by shooting a volley and charging. By the time the British fixed bayonets, they had a couple hundred pissed-off Scots in their midst with swords and shields, making their displeasure energetically known.

The problem: how to get the bayonet the hell out of the way so reloading could happen. The most popular method was called a socket bayonet. This was a blade attached to a twist-lock cylinder that fit over the muzzle of the musket. The blade stuck out to the side or under the muzzle, keeping out of the way of the bullet (and hopefully the hands of the gunner trying to reload.

There were other designs that cropped up over the years, which ranged from the workable (the spring-loaded bayonet, which folded under the barrel. The Chinese used a variant of this design on the AK-47 well into the 1980′s) to the bizarre (a trowel-bayonet, ostensibly designed by someone who figured soldiers would spend more time digging than fighting. While not necessarily wrong, it may well have been a case of misapplied engineering).

By the time multi-shot rifles came around, a trend cropped up of merging the bayonet with a camp knife, turning a weapon into another kind of weapon as well as a tool, because hey, you have to carry everything, and multiuse tools are always handy. The Russians went one step further and rigged up a nut-and-socket system with one of their bayonets, turning the blade and scabbard into a set of wire cutters.

So, that’s my look at the bayonet beyond the political quip. It’s been useful since they showed up, and I think it’s going to be around as long as blades and projectile or even energy weapons exist.