The Epee
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Title
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The Epee
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Date
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July 1939
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volume
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4
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issue
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5
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page start
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10
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page end
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10
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content
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en
THE EPEE
Lt. Philip C. Wehle, U.S.A.
Before attempting to lay bare the secrets of the epee, the moving finger pauses to point with a purpose and quite politely to what has gone before. Recent issues of The Riposte have breathed in essay form much valuable information into the eager ear of the budding foilsman. It follows quite logically that, basically, a great deal of the counsel heretofore given the foilsmen may be taken to heart by the devotees of the epee. The meaty cautions on what to eat and when to eat it, how to sleep and when, what to think (if you must), how to prepare yourself for tournament competition—all these sterling bits of advice should prove of worth to the aspiring epee man. Therefore, in order to avoid being repetitious, this accounting will not touch upon the helpful hints already given. Rather it will confine itself to a discussion of the epee man's problems from three avenues of approach—namely, FORM, THE PRACTICE SESSION, and COMBAT TACTICS.
To couple FORM and the EPEE would appear at first glance to be sacrilegious. Certainly such a joining has the appearance of an obvious mismating, for surely almost every fencer has seen many effective epee men whose form was strikingly reminiscent of a praying mantis or a spavined rhumba dancer. And because these eccentric fighters are effective there arises the question: Why bother with form? Now that is a perfectly logical question. Why, indeed, make much of form? The answer comes booming back: To get the mostest for the leastest.
There, in pithy and colloquial form is the answer. Not one of us exists who does not wish to enjoy a certain sense of honest security, a knowledge that he is fit and ready for come what may, a feeling that he is well prepared for whatever the world may offer. In a fencing sense, proper form gives to the epee man these selfsame endowments. And, what is more important, these attributes enable the fencer to do his good work in the most efficient and effortless manner. Not that the acquisition of good form is an easy matter — not at all! Rather it is in combat itself that the economy of means offered by good form becomes evident.
Specifically, good form gives to the epee man a position offering the greatest possibilities for offensive and defensive action. More than that, good form dictates the proper method of executing any movement in the attack or defense, and by proper method is meant the most effortless, the most deceptive, in short, the most efficient method of executing any movement.
Lest the reader become alarmed concerning this emphasis on form let it be known that form is not an end in itself; it is merely a means, a very important means, to the true end of all fencing endeavor — combat. Form, of itself, wins no bouts; and to win his bouts is the goal of any honest, competitive soul. But form does give to the man who has a good fencing head and fighting heart the best insurance that he will make the most of his natural talents. Let the purist take his main delight from the beauty of superb form. There is no denying that he will have his way. However, should the epee man wish to insure his chances of winning let him also give form its just due; for good form cannot do otherwise than enhance a scrappy fencer’s chances of coming out on top.
But look, say you, at this man and that; each has won a medal or two; each is ever a dangerous opponent; and each is the oddest looking duck to be seen on any fencing mat. True, true—they have no form, yet they have placed well in many meets. But are they the tops? How many consistent top-notchers have you seen who lack basic form? Those men who reach the top in epee, and who stay there, will be found to have a sane, honest, careful, standard-form game. They have little that is bizarre; they appear as standard, run-of-the-line fencers. They have not one trick in the bag; they have a dozen. They are dangerous from any and all angles. In all departments of the game they have proved themselves redoubtable. Against such champions the eccentric fighter has but a small chance of winning consistently; for the odd-mannered fighter has only one or two tricks to offer; the well-grounded man has a hatfull.
Not long ago there occurred in the annual fight for the Epee National Championship a striking example of the worth of form when pitted against the highly individualistic, "one punch" type of game. It so happened that a college man had developed a peculiarly effective type of attack that was not to be found in the books. Its success depended upon a superior sense of time and distance. The attack looked harmless; it was alarmingly dangerous. Moreover, it was not a normal movement; it was a very odd sort of thing. Now this young man entered the Nationals and swept all, or nearly all, before him; ever and always employing his odd style of attack to win for him. He reached the enviable position of having to fence off the tie for the championship. His opponent was a man of proved worth, a man well-grounded in all departments of the game. Came the fence-off, the bout and title to go to the man who first made ten touches. Right at the start the college man pinked his opponent, using his damnably puzzling attack to get him a one-touch advantage. He did it again to lead 2-0. These two touches were practically his last. His opponent changed his game to meet this "one-punch" approach, and proceeded to pick off the college man at leisure, winning the bout ten touches to three. Stopped completely in his one department the "one-punch" fighter had no reserve to call upon, no well-rounded game, no game of basic form. Undoubtedly the man had great natural talent as a fencer; he was far from being a dub. But he made the mistake of putting all his eggs in one basket. Perhaps he had found early in his fencing career that he could win from his fellows with his one attack. Forsaking any further pursuit of a well-grounded game this man went up and up with his one attack. How far he went and why he went no further you have already seen.
The only purpose in this discussion on form for the epee man is to dissuade the novice from thumbing his nose at any ardent pursuit of correct form. Through an adherence to some odd stance and action, and through a desertion of standard practice the young epee wielder may find that he can whip the devil out of his contemporaries who are earnestly striving to master the niceties of correct fencing. It is a discouraging but glaring fact that early in the game a young fencer finds that his search for form seems to hinder rather than help his effectiveness. The get-quick-rich, Wallingford method seems much more productive of early success. Be not deluded by this surface richness. Dig deeply; find the mother lode. It will assay much richer. Ground yourself thoroughly in GOOD FORM.
