- Joined
- Mar 30, 2000
- Messages
- 71
Many years ago I met an old fart by the name of Alan Khan. At the time Alan was a beer bellied, bug eyed, balding, snaggled tooth old timer.
Now it might help people to realize something. Alan had been wounded in Vietnam in 1958. Odd you might say since we weren't officially in Vietnam until the early 1960's. Guess what? Eisenhower had been sending in "Advisors" and Alan had been in his youth an Airborne Ranger. To put it politely, he was doing black ops wetwork. He and his team would sneak into a village where the Communists had a strong presence and the next morning the villagers would wake up to discover the head of the Communist Cadre splattered all over the walls of his hut. Alan, whose expertize was the knife, had come a callin'
Now when we met I was a stud. I mean I was young cocky and bold. I had survived a number of knife incidents and I had learned "knife fighting" from a former gang member from East LA. I was conversant in Applegate's military system and it had stood me in good stead through these altercations. My reputation was building and I was a totally billy bada**. Back then you could have listened to me click when I walked.
Well Alan and I were talking shop one day and I mentioned how a certain Chinese knife stance was giving me problem in trying to get around. He asked what it was and I showed him. He snorted in amusement and said "Oh that's easy"
Ugh unnhh! You do NOT say that kind of thing to such a studly knifefighter like myself. I told this old SOB to show me if it was all that easy. We got practice knives and I stud up and took my knife fighting stance. And he asked if I was ready.
Lesson one for the day...if someone asks you if you are ready you are about to learn an unpleasant lesson.
Lesson two...this guy blurred. I mean he was standing there all pot bellied and old one second and the next he was GONE! The next thing I knew I was being jerked to the side and his practice knife was slamming into a kill zone.
I thank god, Allah, Buddha and Bob the Mechanic that I learned an important lesson about fighting that day -- and not under a live fire situation. I was there to fight, Alan was there to kill.
He goal wasn't to impress me with what a stud he was. He wasn't there to do fancy techniques or "gee whiz wow" everyone with his martial skills. His goal was to be the one who went home that night.
He taught me a critical lesson that day. That is the difference between a fight and combat. If you go into combat thinking like a fighter, you won't like what happens. If your goal going into a knife altercation is anything other than ending it as quickly as possible, you aren't a knifer, you are a knife fighter and you will die in the real thing.
Not since that day have I called myself a knife fighter and I never will again.
Marc Animal MacYoung
Now it might help people to realize something. Alan had been wounded in Vietnam in 1958. Odd you might say since we weren't officially in Vietnam until the early 1960's. Guess what? Eisenhower had been sending in "Advisors" and Alan had been in his youth an Airborne Ranger. To put it politely, he was doing black ops wetwork. He and his team would sneak into a village where the Communists had a strong presence and the next morning the villagers would wake up to discover the head of the Communist Cadre splattered all over the walls of his hut. Alan, whose expertize was the knife, had come a callin'
Now when we met I was a stud. I mean I was young cocky and bold. I had survived a number of knife incidents and I had learned "knife fighting" from a former gang member from East LA. I was conversant in Applegate's military system and it had stood me in good stead through these altercations. My reputation was building and I was a totally billy bada**. Back then you could have listened to me click when I walked.
Well Alan and I were talking shop one day and I mentioned how a certain Chinese knife stance was giving me problem in trying to get around. He asked what it was and I showed him. He snorted in amusement and said "Oh that's easy"
Ugh unnhh! You do NOT say that kind of thing to such a studly knifefighter like myself. I told this old SOB to show me if it was all that easy. We got practice knives and I stud up and took my knife fighting stance. And he asked if I was ready.
Lesson one for the day...if someone asks you if you are ready you are about to learn an unpleasant lesson.
Lesson two...this guy blurred. I mean he was standing there all pot bellied and old one second and the next he was GONE! The next thing I knew I was being jerked to the side and his practice knife was slamming into a kill zone.
I thank god, Allah, Buddha and Bob the Mechanic that I learned an important lesson about fighting that day -- and not under a live fire situation. I was there to fight, Alan was there to kill.
He goal wasn't to impress me with what a stud he was. He wasn't there to do fancy techniques or "gee whiz wow" everyone with his martial skills. His goal was to be the one who went home that night.
He taught me a critical lesson that day. That is the difference between a fight and combat. If you go into combat thinking like a fighter, you won't like what happens. If your goal going into a knife altercation is anything other than ending it as quickly as possible, you aren't a knifer, you are a knife fighter and you will die in the real thing.
Not since that day have I called myself a knife fighter and I never will again.
Marc Animal MacYoung
