Fights Nearly a Century in Progress

Two stories intrigue me:

The great boxer Jack Dempsey was stepping out of a cab in New York City when he was confronted by two young toughs who demanded his wallet.  At least 75 and no doubt in his customary double breasted suit, he must have presented a pretty easy target.  In an instant, everything was over.  The two assailants lay unconscious on the sidewalk, sledgehammered before they knew what hit them.  

I saw this second story recounted by the young woman involved: 30 or more years ago, she was a blue eyed, blonde haired 14-year-old and part of a summer sailing expedition around the Mediterranean, a program run by a ‘charming’ older man who was about 70 and happened to have served in the Special Air Service in World War Two.  Apparently, they were ashore in Algeria when three locals made it clear they wanted to ‘buy’ this beautiful young thing.  They didn’t catch the leader’s declining the offer, and in fact they were seizing the goods when suddenly the charming 70 year old leveled the three of them.  The police arrived after some minutes and were very apologetic before hauling away the broken bodies.


How did these guys do this?  What kind of movement and kinetic energy did they harness to make such short work of these attackers?  It had to be at once ruthlessly effective, imparting either phenomenal impact or devastating penetration, as well as incredibly efficient, since speed was of the essence and neither of these guys was young or infinitely powerful.  What exactly cracked these skulls, a fist, an elbow, palm heel,  a swift drop to the pavement, or a stomping for good measure?  

Clearly, the aged Jack Dempsey didn’t waste time putting up his dukes.  In his book CHAMPIONSHIP FIGHTING: EXPLOSIVE PUNCHING AND AGGRESSIVE DEFENSE, the Manassa Mauler explained that speed and power come from a drop step that capitalized upon gravity and a fighter’s weight.  He refused to use the word ‘jab’, insisting that even the most preliminary shot should be a ‘jolt’ containing knockout power.  

For the SAS man, it probably wasn’t all fisticuffs.  Knees and groins were likely among the targets destroyed in an assault the Algerians had not imagined.  


 A few friends and I have some ideas about the skills and speed involved, which we practice in weekend combatives workouts.  Whole bodied movement, especially turning, is key to creating force.  Elbows are critical weapons in very close quarters, and the essential aim is to avoid staying in place and trading blows; always one should seek to flank an opponent, moving to a position of advantage - from which you can inflict damage while he cannot answer.  

We’ve also discovered some larger psychological truths: aggression and confidence come from practice.  That means conceptual understanding and successful repetition.  Crossing the divide to land a shot on an opponent is not only a case of bridging the physical distance; it’s overcoming your own reservations and knowing how to bypass his defenses, which can be two very real barriers.  The ability to drive down a guy’s throat does not come from merely the desire to do so.  A fighter who knows how to ‘fill the air’ with an effective offense can rally - psychologically - behind it, like troops running behind a tank blasting its way into enemy territory.  


Jack Dempsey was known for his ‘Dempsey roll,’ a constant bobbing and weaving that generated rib cracking punching power.  Films of this were devoured by a young Mike Tyson, whose trainer, Cus D’Amato, promised him, ‘Trust me, the other guys won’t know what to do.’  

Dempsey was such a whirlwind of power and fury that boxing established its ‘Go to a neutral corner in the event of a knockdown’ rule to handle him in the ring.  


The Special Air Service badge is a standard of lethality tracing back to the commando group’s first exploits in North Africa during the Second World War.  Sailing unseen across the vast desert in jeeps and trucks, they crept on foot into German airfields and created strategically significant mayhem.  Through the decades they have remained Britain’s first choice in handling its dirty work, often hostage rescue or anti-terrorism, and in so doing have produced a breed of superbly capable warriors.  

Classified as their hand-to-hand training was then or remains today, physically it’s no doubt similar to Dempsey’s ability to link well targeted blows to powerful steps and turns.  Mentally the result is the same: these skills are repeated extensively to give the soldiers faith enough to employ them at a moment’s notice.  


The content is not so secret, as it turns out.  Plenty of films and books have made World War Two combatives accessible to historians and athletes, lessons that are often deceptively sophisticated.  Their greatest fault can be in appearing overly tame or simplistic; their genius is in the broad conceptual foundation they provide.  

An example that’s caught my attention recently is pugil stick fighting, which was invented during the war as a means of bayonet training.  Two players, clad in helmets, pads, and protective gloves, handle long poles with canvas and padding at each end.  Their hands are near the center of the poles, and they can strike with either end.  

A recruit’s first attempts at stick fighting were very likely mad rounds of flailing that exhausted their arms and shoulders very quickly.  If they had a chance to study the art, however, they’d learn to be cooler under pressure, realizing how easily shots could be deflected or evaded entirely.  Bringing a leg, hip, shoulder, and stick around all at once could lend great power to a shot.  

When the horizontal swinging turns into a stalemate of pushing and shoving, a fighter can change his axis of rotation, bringing a shot straight down on an opponent’s head or looping an upward swing into a knee or groin.  This teaches the recruit to capitalize upon opportunities.  Rather than give in to a fear driven,  frenzied collision, a thoughtful, experienced fighter will take the fight to his opponent beforehand, striking unguarded targets with speed and force.  


Though Jack Dempsey’s professional career ended in 1927, his methodology counts as World War Two combatives, since in 1942 he was commissioned as a lieutenant in the Coast Guard Reserve and published HOW TO FIGHT TOUGH; 100 ACTION PHOTOS TEACHING U.S. COMMANDO FIGHTING.  

Our little Sunday group can attest that the Dempsey roll makes the close quarters elbow work very effective.  Elbows come highly recommended by the famous Paddy O’Neill, author of DEAL THE FIRST DEADLY BLOW and trainer of the joint Canadian and American Devil’s Brigade.  This sets up knee strikes, of which every instructor is a fan, particularly Colonel William Fairbairn, the godfather of military combatives.  


All of our repetition has taught us another very important truth.  These attacks must be launched in a split second.  As we count down our ‘3 -2-1 . . . go’s,’ we all edge into our first moves between ‘2’ and ‘1,’ practically twitching, knowing that the tiniest advantages in position and timing make all the difference. 

That’s what Dempsey understood.  He knocked out those muggers out before they had even realized that things might have to get rough.  

The SAS man of course did not drop his three bad guys as fast as a ricocheting bullet.   He probably did sucker punch the first but would be wise enough to groin the second one, who’d have had time to put his hands up.  He turned to the third, whose eyes went wide as he had no time to form a plan, ran him down with an elbow or knee upon arrival, and threw him with concussive force into the pavement - before turning back to the gasping, wounded Number Two.  

Initiative is everything on a physical level, when you’re both primed to fight and itching to sink that first critical shot.  Psychologically, it’s even more profound.  The advantage of training, and the lesson from the combatives of World War Two, is that your immediate action and the nature of your attack are decisions that have been made months or years in advance of any situation that might arise. 

Those thugs in New York and Algeria walked into fights that had started 50 years before.  They never stood a chance.  

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