Modern Hand to Hand Combat. Hakim Isler

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      So why did we start to succeed when we were yelled at? Well, no one wanted to hyperextend his or her arm because they were trying to be a successful attacker. So, what we started doing was taking it easy for the next attack or loosening our grip so that the defense could succeed.

      Here’s another point: Let’s assume that both Soldier A and Soldier B are exhausted during a combative drill. Now, let’s have Soldier A attack Soldier B. If Soldier B can’t defend against Soldier A’s attack when exhausted, how is Soldier B going to successfully defend against a fresh and ready opponent? How can Soldier B hope to succeed, regardless of whatever sound combative technique he or she may be employing, if Soldier B simply cannot operate at full potential?

      Another aspect I found unrealistic was that we were doing things like simulating arm breaks, rib breaks, and kicks to the face with combat boots, sometimes all in the same technique. What was our opponent doing as we performed our techniques? Unfortunately, more often than not, they were staring off into space. There was no reality-based consideration for the reaction of an attacker getting his or her arm or ribs broken, or being kicked in the face. Initially, I thought this was because we were in the beginning phase of our combative training. I had taught static training to beginners before, where there’s less of a consideration for “real” reactions during combat. However, as the classes continued, the consideration for reactions was never covered.

      Along with this lack of consideration for realistic reaction was what I call the “Action Movie Syndrome.” This happens when people put too many movements into a technique set. Thus, you break an arm, then a rib, then strike the face, then the neck, and then have a cup of coffee before the guy hits the ground. Wow! It all looks very cool, but it is not efficient or effective—except maybe in a movie-generated situation. I don’t like to say that certain things or techniques will “never” work; you can, after all, cut a steak with a fork, but it’s going to be difficult. In a real fight, if you break an opponent’s arm, he or she now has a big problem. Even if he or she can continue to fight with one arm down, he or she would almost have to be a superhero. Or, this person would have to be extremely high on some substance to ignore the painful reality of a broken arm!

      Furthermore, when you break someone’s arm, that person isn’t just going to stand there. You can bank on the fact that the attacker’s body dynamic is going to change. But what does that mean? Well, it might mean that the “Five-Combo Hurricane Kick” you were planning next won’t work that well.

      Another major flaw I noticed as our combatives training continued was that everything was done with our legs nearly straight. The result was poor balance, with soldiers falling all over the place. There was no mention of bending one’s knees and getting low to the ground as a way to gain stability and maintain a better center of gravity. There was no mention that tall, straight legs meant lack of balance and weak technique. Maybe it was because we were just supposed to learn the basics; this was just an introductory course in combative training.

      Well, guess what? The things I am talking about are the basics, and to neglect them at the beginning means bigger problems down the line.

      Even though I felt so many things were a little off about what was being taught, I still had no real desire to work to ward making it better. Although I’d already written a book and created a curriculum for a self-protection art, I felt I didn’t have enough knowledge on the needs of the military to create my own comprehensive combatives system. Besides, my focus was on completing my military training. It really wasn’t until I made it to my unit, linked up with my team, and began training to deploy to Iraq that I started learning what service members would really need on the battlefield.

      My first revelation came when I had to put my armor on and go out on a mock patrol. I remember feeling how awkward and heavy my armor was, and I wasn’t even carrying ammo yet. Because I had gone to bodyguard school before the Army, I was well versed in role-playing situations. I immediately started thinking about how would I fight with all this equipment on my person. Needless to say, the answers didn’t come from anything I was taught by that cadre on that early morning or the days that followed. The moves were too quick, unstable, required too much energy for what I was wearing.

      I started thinking about the last martial arts system I learned, which I studied for five years before joining the Army. Its principles and philosophies came from an ancient Japanese lineage where people often fought wearing heavy armor. I began to think more about the relationship between what I was wear ing and what the samurai wore on the battlefields of Japan. During training, I was told that I would spend at least fifty percent of my time in this uniform while I was in Iraq. So why, then, didn’t my training cover close-quarters hand-to-hand combat with this uniform? I thought more about those ancient principles and wondered if I could create a system based on them. After all, in both concept and reality, protective armor has transcended the span of time. Could those ancient combat principles transcend as well? The samurai were masters at warfare, could their teachings still be useful on today’s battlefield?

      I started to tinker with this concept and began developing several techniques. Then one day, I found myself talking with a staff sergeant from my unit who had spent most of his Army career on the judo team—until he came to our unit. I told him what I was doing and he thought it was a great idea. He said he had talked to the First Sergeant and was going to be giving a ground fighting class for PT on Thursdays. He asked if I would be willing to demonstrate some of my newly developed techniques, because he felt it was geared more towards what we would really face on the battlefield.

      I was elated, as you can imagine, but I had no official curriculum, so I told him I wasn’t sure if I was ready. He talked me into giving it a try, and I spent the next few days organizing my notes and techniques. When Thursday rolled around, we had, according to the participants, “a good class that made a lot of sense.” To some, my theories were revolutionary, further encouraging me to believe that maybe I really was onto something. I taught a few more classes before my unit scrapped the Thursday combative class to make room for other necessary training for deployment. However, I received enough positive feedback that I kept working on the curriculum.

      Battlefield Proximity Combat (B.P.C.) seemed to grow from infancy to adulthood during my time in Iraq. It was on the ground there that I gained personal experience and had conversations with others about the battlefield and what was needed. In addition, I was able to conduct B.P.C. СКАЧАТЬ