Colin Hough aka Forever Colin (also known as the mamoth, in the training game “kill the mamoth”.)

Group coordinator more times than I care to remember.  Colin is keeper of the keys and arms supplier to the Gwerin.           

Preferred weapons:  Sword, Spear, Winged spear.  (His winged spear is rightly named “evil”)                                               

 Member since 2003.

Jon Kennedy  aka the sacrifice (or the presidential sacrifice)

Castle coordinator, former group training coordinator.  Jon is in charge of castle shifts and takes a share of Dave’s training responsibilities.  A keen participant in all our activities and probably the person most likely to be seen at every group event.

Preferred weapons: Axes, axes, big axes, small axes, very big axes, langs, more axes, scram, did I mention axes…

Member since 2006?

Dave Turner

training coordinator. 

Paul Sanders

former training officer.   

Preferred weapons: Sword, Dane axe (a particuarly large dane axe named Mr Bump)

member since 2002?

Mary-Eve Nelson aka padrona

 (the one on the right)

Preferred weapons: other people

Member since 2009?

Whyt Pugh

Authenticity officer.  After a very colourful start and some clashes with authority Whyt had become an invaluable member. She has created some amazing kit, a fantastic living history display, tells tales in old English and Welsh and has become one of the cornerstones of the group.

Preferred weapons: Swords.

Member since 2007?

to be continued…

http://www.hurstwic.org/history/articles/daily_living/text/clothing.htm

An excellent list of shoe designs, including location found and dateline, is to be found here:

http://www.personal.utulsa.edu/~marc-carlson/shoe/SLIST2.HTM

Another very useful article on shoes, in this case the designs found at hedby, can be viewed here:

http://www.leita.fr/mapage4/index-en.html

An important place to check, when designing a costume that may have unusual features is the Regia Anglorum kit specifications, which can be found here:

http://www.regia.org/members/kitspecs.html

Roger Parmiter, of the Friends of Oystermouth Castle did the honours in cutting the ribbon (with a sword no less!) and the Friends themselves worked tirelessly escorting some of the 5000 strong crowd around the new features, including the fabulous glass balcony on the first level inside the chapel block.

On the green below, reenactors from Gwerin y Gwyr, the Collegiate of Knights Templar and Milwr Morgannwg laid on demonstrations as display along with falconry from Perriswood and musical entertainment from Pavane Medieval Music and the Dave Cottle Jazz Band (not at the same time!). Oystermouth Primary School also laid on a performance, as did Inner State Theatre and Cover to Cover Story Telling.

If you didn’t make it, don’t worry – the castle will now be open from Monday 18th July through to the end of September.  Come and see this wonderful monument.

Pictures from this event can be found here: http://www.flickr.com/photos/swansea-events/sets/72157627115671347/with/5957457683/

Have you discovered more warning signs of reenactordom? Let me know about them. Thanks to all the contributors to this ever-growing list! Including and especially the contributers to the original “You know you’re in the SCA when…”

You and your mates stand on a street corner on the route of a historical procession, and people ask you if you’re part of said procession.

You and your friends have wandered down the road and into the pub, only to be asked if you’re invading, which brand of mead you’d prefer, and if you could you mind where you’re putting those spears, please.

When the lecturer asks why you and your friend are working on making shoes in the five minutes before the lecture starts, you tell him that there is no way you’re going to charge a shield wall in bare feet if you can avoid it.

You’ve retrieved a ball from a tree with a spear.

You can’t pass the scrap skip outside the local sheet metal shop without raiding it for raw materials

Your “first car” is a transit van.

You can work out, accurately, how many crossbow bolts, arrows, etc. you need for a weekend, but believe that a tin of Ravioli will feed you for three days

You hear an American tourist in Edinburgh talking about his family tartan, and proceed to give him a two-hour lecture on the origins of tartan.

You can’t watch horse-racing without thinking of withstanding a cavalry charge.

You close every curtain in your house before getting changed, but will happily undress to get into kit in the middle of a public carpark.

You go to the fabric shop to buy some material for a caparison for your horse and a surcoat for yourself and the lady at the counter asks you how long you and your horse have been dressing alike.

You use a scramseax as a door wedge.

You use a Moniac Mead bottle to prop open your window.

You buy reproduction 14th Cheamware pots and use them as normal everyday coffee cups.

You fix your watch strap using a scramseax.

You use the phrase “Bugger this for a game of soldiers” other than metaphorically.

You can sleep through drunken singing, gaming and three part harmony snoring echoing off castle walls.

You recognise people in battle scenes in TV programmes and films.

You have weapons stacked in the living room.

After getting back from an event you pop out of the house to post a letter and are halfway down the road before you realise you’re still barefoot.

You get completely confused when packing for a camping trip that isn’t a reenactment event and have this nagging suspicion all weekend that you’ve forgotten something.

You can’t sing without a drink in your hand.

You drive by some open land and think “What a great place for a battle!”

Your idea of a fun weekend is sleeping outside in the rain.

You can spot 100% wool at 30 yards.

You have a whole room of your house given over as an armoury.

You’ve ever said the words “only X more days ’til (some event)!”.

You’ve received cuts, burns, pulled out thorns, got poison ivy, and still look forward to camping at events.

Life’s essentials are fighting and booze!

Your dinner guests see your kit and ask if you’re in a play.

In the middle of summer, you dread wearing a short sleeved shirt in your air conditioned office, but you can’t wait to get to the next event, where you can dress in three layers of wool and sit round a campfire.

You’ve worn wool when the temperature tops 100 degrees Fahrenheit, repeatedly.

You make a career decisions based on their effect on your weekends.

No one will attend a historical film with you.

You see the riot police on TV and start critiquing their shield wall.

People greet you on Monday morning with “So did you kill anyone this weekend?”.

You can’t use your dining table because it’s covered in half finished mail.

You have a table specifically for making mail so it doesn’t take up your dining table.

You suffer from post-battle depression.

You know every line in Monty Python’s Quest for the Holy Grail by heart.

You’ve stopped watching Monty Python’s Quest for the Holy Grail because you know every line by heart.

Bad fighting and/or costuming has ruined an otherwise decent movie for you.

You’re a burly guy who looks like a Hell’s Angel, but you do embroidery in public.

At a formal dinner party, you politely grab your sleeve to keep it from dropping in the food, only to realize you’re wearing a suit.

You can eat equally well with a dagger or a fork.

You’ve decorated a cake in Celtic knotwork.

You return to work after a weekend event, only to find you left all your money in your belt pouch.

You sometimes wear your jackets closed only by the top button and without putting your arms through the sleeves.

After a party you ask yourself “Hm. Now where are my clothes?” and you’re stone sober and fully dressed.

You’re watching what’s been billed as the most romantic scene in any movie ever, and all you can think is: What kind of armor is he wearing?

You’re watching what’s been billed as the most romantic scene in any movie ever, and all you can think is: You can’t do that wearing that style of armour.

You can and do curse in Gaelic, but you aren’t Scottish

You have more kit than clothes and the kit is in better condition.

You visit a period castle, notice the draperies and bedspreads, and think of what lovely clothing they would make.

You visit a period castle, museum, historical site, etc. and you can spot the mistakes in the tour guide’s lecture.

You get a Christmas card in the mail and you look at the shepherds and background figures with a magnifying glass to see the costuming details.

Your kid gets a cardboard punch out castle and you take it away from him and put it together yourself, point out the flaws in the architecture, and based on your assessment of the flaws in the architecture, figure out how you could, hypothetically capture it if it was a real castle.

Your kid gets a bunch of plastic knights you swipe them to outline your tactical ideas for the next war/battle practice with your friends.

You hide the really awful costume references in the stacks at the library, so future costumers won’t be led astray. Or, you write criticisms in the margins of said awful costume references.

You watch Henry V (or the Zefferelli Romeo and Juliet) over, and over, and over, again – for the costumes/fighting scenes.

Your immediate family consists of only two rather small, thin people, but you justify your purchase of a full-sized van/pickup truck saying “We’ll need the extra space for events!”

You’re annoyed because the armor at the art museum isn’t displayed so that you can get a good photograph of the back/insides.

Your reference section on your field of interest is better than the equivalent section in the local library.

Your idea of a packed lunch is mince-meat pie, cold mulled cider and wafers left over from the feast the week-end before.

Your hobby takes more of your time than your job.

You name your pets after obscure historical figures.

You name your children after obscure historical figures.

People assume that you’re an exchange student/recent immigrant because they hear people calling you by the most outlandish names.

You read a book that involves the plague and can diagnose which of the two or three types of plague it is from the symptoms.

 The decorating scheme of your home is “bookcase eclectic”.

You take a medieval history course in college, and find out you already own the textbooks.

You describe your company’s logo to the printer’s shop using heraldic terms.

Instead of having dreams about being out in public with no clothes on, you have dreams about being at an event in mundane clothing.

You catch yourself thinking “‘Gules, three chevrons or’. Nice tabard. Classic Anglo-Norman style, easily visible. Oh! I guess it’d better be visible, he’s a road repair worker!

You go running up the stairs at work and reach down to hold the hem of your underdress up so as not to trip over it… and you’re wearing trousers.

You dress your decorative lawn elves/animals in period kit matching your own.

You can cook an egg on a rock, but not toast in a toaster.

You can make a loaf of bread faster than you can program a bread machine.

You make all your own bread and you don’t own a bread pan.

Your mundane friends wangle invitations for Sunday supper so they can sample the feast leftovers.

Your 8-year-old daughter gets a poseable Barbie for her birthday and you immediately see if she can assume all of the heraldic positions with an eye toward a future heraldry class.

 A student greets you in a Monday morning class by asking “So, did your wife kill anyone this weekend?”

Your wife asks you “Do you want me to buy you some black tights for the wedding we’re going to this weekend?” and you say yes.

Your friend invites you to a “dress nice” party, and you realize that your best looking clothes are your banqueting kit.

Your friend tells you her new boyfriend works in a fabric store and your first thought is “How cool!”

The only time you can see your living room floor is when your van is packed for an event.

You buy a town out of rivets.

Your bible study is going over the Armor of God… and they ask you to bring examples.

You see a mother tenderly picking a splinter out of her son’s hand with a shortsword.

You pull out a wax tablet to write down someone’s email address at an event

You buy a bottle of booze just for the neat pouch.

Your buying black walnuts and ferrous sulfate from a health food store mean a new “dye” not a new “diet”.

You go to a Catholic mass with your in-laws, and you spend the whole time admiring the garb on the priest and in the stained glass windows.

You have to find something else to wear on Halloween, because your kit just doesn’t feel like a costume anymore.

Your coworkers seem a little concerned that you’re planning a “period” party, and you’re male.

 ”Dining room large enough for a dozen scribes and all their equipment” or “garden big enough to hold a battle practice” appears on the must-have list for your new house.

You can’t decide whether to wear the Celtic kit or the Norman kit for a costume to your company’s costume ball.

You go to the hardware store and ask for a drawknife for shaving rattan, only to have them explain that no one makes them anymore.

Your “best china” consists of wooden feast gear and drinking horns.

The worst loss of your flooded basement is not the washer or the furnace, but the scrolls you were framing…

You plan your car-trip vacations around events happening in other areas and even pack accordingly.

Your mum gives you a book about chivalry for your birthday, inscribed with the words “chivalry will never die as long as there are hearts as true as yours”

You’re male and you see an attractive woman in a skin-tight black velvet dress, and your primary thought is “Wow!! What I wouldn’t give for ten yards of that!”

You’re babysitting and you wonder if they’d give you the curtains as pay

The gynecologist asks “When is your period?”, and you answer “Early 14th century (or whenever)”.

You go to a funeral and spend your time looking at the great pavilion over the grave site and wonder where they got it

Cleaning your knives (and axes, and swords and spears) is not only an entire evening’s work, but an entire evening’s entertainment!

You start wearing your tankard and belt pouch around with your mundanes, because it’s so darn convenient.

You don’t think twice about inviting all your friends over to watch “Scourge of the Black Death” on the History Channel, and have no doubts that almost everyone will come.

Your future husband’s wedding garb costs more than yours, and has more trim.

“Two helmets, Anglo-Norman style preferred” appears on your wedding registry.

You’ve called your dorm ahead of time to ask if it’s OK to keep swords in your room.

You realize you’ve used porta-loos more often than “flushies” recently.

A gift certificate at an upholstery store was one of your favorite birthday gifts this year.

The worst news you’ve had all year is that the leather store near you is closing!

You’re disappointed that your British Literature textbook doesn’t have Beowulf in parallel text.

You enter your lady’s boudoir for the first time, and the first words to escape your lips are “Nice sewing machine!”.

 Costumed people going into Rocky Horror have asked you about your “funny clothes”.

You’re female and you’ve walked straight into a door on a Monday morning because you just expected the coworker you’re entering with to stop and open it for you.

After viewing this list, your mundane significant other chuckles for days, while you mutter to yourself “I don’t see what’s so funny about that.”

You show up for work on Monday with the most interesting bruises. (Or possibly a mail weave sunburn).

You get mail as a wedding present.

 A man says “whoa! Nice legs! Hubba hubba!” and he’s talking about your armor.

You rattle when you walk, because you’re wearing a mail shirt under your shirt to save carrying it.

Street signs look like armor trees, round shields, war shields…

If you’re bruised black and blue every Monday morning…. and you enjoyed getting that way.

You pick up the bin lid and automatically snap it up to a defensive position.

You’re wearing mail to the office hidden under your jumper because you need to get used to moving round in it.

You sneer at sword fights in films because any fool can tell they’re not within striking distance of their opponents

Dessert is served in stainless steel dishes, you start speculating on how easy they would be to beat into shield bosses.

You were asked to find a broom handle to work a jack with and couldn’t find a broom but came back with a longaxe and a spear.

You can describe the tactics, strategy, weapons, armor and troops used in hundreds of medieval battles, but don’t know why they were fought.

You can’t raise your arms above horizontal on a Monday morning.

You’re daft enough to lock the keys in your van, but you managed to pry a window open with your sword.

You find yourself incapable of small hand motions and can only move your whole arm, or at best, wrist flicks.

You’re female and “You’re so aggressive!” is a compliment!

You see a beautiful member of the opposite sex sitting on a Rattan seat and you realize that you are staring, at the chair.

You would rather pack you halberd and your pike instead of food on your way to war.

You are cleaning up after an event and all that you can think of is how great this aluminum table edging would be on a shield. And for that matter, drop the legs and put on a handle, it’s good light plywood, well reinforced, a little on the large side but maybe for war…

You get your van stuck in a bog, but escape by unloading the shields and driving out over them

After an event, while getting dressed in mundanes, you don your swordbelt and weapons.

Your sweatpants have holes in the knees and rust stains, because you wore your armor over/under them.

You’ve ruined your deep fat fryer using it to melt wax.

You view the world as a reenactor when…

You see a van saying L.H.E. on the side and are disappointed to discover it’s some mundane builders not a Living History Exhibit at all.

Watching Blankety Blank the word Chain_____ comes up and you immediately think “Mail” and are really disappointed when it doesn’t come up.

You see a sign in M&S saying “AUTHENTIC UNDERWEAR” and are disappointed to find out it’s just a brand name.

You see a poster saying “SAXON!” and are disappointed when it turns out to be the name of a band.

You see a sign that reads “TANNING” and comment to your spouse “I wonder what kinds of skins and hides they have?”,

You see a sign that reads “FENCING” and you wonder about their price their foils and epees.

A truck passes you on the motorway labeled “MAKERS OF THE FINEST BELTS AND HOSES” and you think they’re carrying kit!

You see an ad saying “LEARN HOW TO MAKE YOUR OWN BOWS” and are disappointed when you realize they’re talking about tying ribbons.

You see a magazine ad that begins: “You wouldn’t take a period remedy for your headache…” and think, “What, leeches? Herbal infusions?” before you notice the rest of the ad reads: “So don’t take a headache remedy for your period”.

You see a nun in the grocery store wearing the habit for her order and you think to yourself “what nice garb she has” without thinking twice about the fact that you’re not at an event.

You hear there’s a new movie out called “The War of the Roses” and are disappointed to learn it’s about a messy divorce!

You see “FIELDS OF ARMOR” listed as a program on The Discovery Channel, and are very disappointed that its about tanks.

A magazine article titled “FULL ARMOUR” piques your interest, but when you start leafing through the magazine expecting to see pictures of helms, breastplates, etc. you’re disappointed to discover that it’s an article about a PC security package.

Seeing someone in full plate, a tabard, and Reeboks does not strike you as odd.

You see a large sign saying “COMING SOON: THE VIKING YOUTH ACADEMY”, only to be disappointed that it’s a daycare center.

You see playground equipment (swings, seesaws, etc) and think “Siege Engines!”.

 You rush out to see a movie called “CELTIC PRIDE”, but storm out ten minutes in when you find out it’s about basketball.

 A “WEBSITE DEVOTED TO ICONS” disappoints you when it’s not about religious relics, but only about some silly downloadable bitmaps.

You know your child is a reenactor when…

They run away from being tagged, calling “illegal hit!”

You have to warn your two-year old not to hit anyone with his sword that Isn’t wearing armour.

While trick-or-treating, someone asks your son what he is, and he replies: “I’m Guy de Lacy, a pre-tabard 11th century Norman who settled near Cornwall!”….

 They don’t know their right hand from their left hand, but they do know their sword arm from their shield arm.

Your child’s “what I did last summer” paper describes how much fun it was to watch their best friend kill a complete stranger.

They’re an early infant class, but decorate their work folders with Celtic knotwork.

Their teacher complains that their handwriting is so bad that it’s illegible, and when you examine it you find it’s Norse runes. (YKYAR too if this makes you proud)

Your six-year-old chooses to write her first book report on “The Pennsic Wars and Living Medieval”.

Your kid can’t make the school baseball/rounders team because he/she swings the bat like a bastard sword.

Your child writes an essay in school about a time when she “felt special” and writes about the time Daddy carried her favor in a tourney and how great it was when he won his first 2 bouts and how disappointed she was when he got killed in the semi-finals and then the teacher calls you and wants to know if your husband has died.

Your child’s pre-school teacher asks the children to name one item they would take camping, and she pipes up with “A sword!”. (The little girl in question has never been camping except at events.) The Christian pre-school teacher was best described as “not amused”.

Your 11-year-old is going over spelling words and shrieks in delight when she sees “parry”… and you suggest her sentence should be “A rubber chicken is an effective parry weapon”.

Your kids make fun of the “square bread” at the grocery store.

Your son is taking Woodwork so he can make toys, and Home Ec so he can run a feast kitchen… and his friends see what he’s making in metalwork and stop hassling him about taking Home Ec.

Your child recognizes that tune as “Greensleeves”.

They correct their history teacher.

You ask your 8-year-old daughter what she wants for her birthday, and she replies “Kit like Mummy !”

She gets into an argument with her teacher over the fact that the color is GULES, not RED!

You know you are married to a reenactor when…

Your wife announces that she will be cleaning her skirt, then fills a bucket with sand (to remove the rust)

You go into the bathroom to shave, and instead of nylons hanging from the shower rod, there’s a collection of helm bonnets.

Your husband has more pairs of tights than you do.

Your husband, not you, is the one dragging you from fabric store to fabric store.

The lady at the fabric store asks your wife if she needs help and she points at you saying, “He’s the one looking for material”.

 You know you’re a post-1800 reenactor when…

You watch a film and think “No, you can’t do that if the jacket/breeches/overalls etc are properly made.

You watch something like “Vanity Fair” and criticise the drill and marching of the troops in the background while totally ignoring the foreground characters.

You can find (or adapt) a quote from “Zulu” for any occasion.

You watch the middle (patrol movie) section of “Saving Private Ryan” in a cinema and have to be asked not to laugh so loudly.

You watch a film/video with a notebook to note the pros and cons of the kit. You prefer old versions of movies because there’s more chance of original bits of kit turning up among the props.

You go to a performance of “Journey’s End” and send the wardrobe mistress a critique of the Uniforms & equipment and how they could be improved.

You watch the “Trooping of the Colour” thinking the lines need re-dressing and why can’t they do it properly, using the 1881 drill manual, in Slade-Wallace equipment and with long Lee-Enfields.

 The News mentions “The Queen” and you have a half heartbeat pause to remember that it’s Elizabeth, NOT Victoria.

The excerpts are from the translations at The Online Medieval and Classical Library.

My comments added in red.

Our son is slain, let us riot in battle; my eager love for him driveth me to my death, that I may not be left outliving my dear child. In each hand I am fain to grasp the sword; now without shield let us ply our warfare bare- breasted, with flashing blades. Let the rumour of our rage beacon forth: boldly let us grind to powder the column of the foe; nor let the battle be long and chafe us [No you definitely don't want a long, chafing battle]; nor let our onset be shattered in rout and be still.” When he had said this, he gripped his hilt with both hands, and, fearless of peril, swung his shield upon his back and slew many.
The Nine Books of the Danish History of Saxo Grammaticus

Steel rends the mail-coats, the woven mesh is torn apart, and the midriff gives under the rain of spears. By now the huge axes have hacked small the shield of the king; by now the long swords clash, and the battle-axe clatters its blows upon the shoulders of men, and cleaves their breasts.
The Nine Books of the Danish History of Saxo Grammaticus

Horwendil, in his too great ardour, became keener to attack his enemy than to defend his own body; and, heedless of his shield, had grasped his sword with both hands; and his boldness did not fail. For by his rain of blows he destroyed Koller’s shield and deprived him of it, and at last hewed off his foot and drove him lifeless to the ground.
The Nine Books of the Danish History of Saxo Grammaticus

Both the warriors assaulted Uffe; but, distrusting his sword, he parried the blows of both with his shield, being determined to wait patiently and see which of the two he must beware of most heedfully, so that he might reach that one at all events with a single stroke of his blade.
The Nine Books of the Danish History of Saxo Grammaticus

For his shield, which hung aloft from the rafter, instantly fell and covered his unarmed body [Handy!], and, as if on purpose, covered it from impalement by the cutthroats. He did not fail to make use of his luck, but, snatching his sword, lopped off both feet of the nearest of them.
The Nine Books of the Danish History of Saxo Grammaticus

Cormac whirled it up just when Steinar was striking out. He struck the shield-edge, and the sword glanced off, slit Bersi’s buttock, sliced his thigh down to the knee-joint, and stuck in the bone. And so Bersi fell.
Kormak’s Saga

But one stroke Thorod fetched at Thorbiorn, and smote off his foot at the ankle-joint; but none the less he fought on, and thrust forth his sword into Thorod’s belly, so that he fell, and his gut burst out.
Heitharviga Saga

Now when Snorri and his folk came to the garth, it is not told that any words befell there, but straightway they set on Arnkel, and chiefly with spear-thrust, which Arnkel put from him with the sledge-runner, and many of the spear-shafts were broken thereby, nor was Arnkel wounded;
Eyrbyggja Saga

And when they came to the homestead they leapt off their horses and were minded to enter, but might not break open the door. Then they leapt up on to the house, and fell to unroofing it. Arnbiorn took his weapons, and warded himself from the inside of the house. He thrust out through the thatch, and that became woundsome to them.
Eyrbyggja Saga

Now slow work was the winning of the skerry, but when they had been thereat a long while, Thord Wall-eye made a dash at it, and would thrust at Thorleif Kimbi with a spear, for he was ever the foremost of his men. The thrust smote the shield of Thorleif, but even as Thord Wall-eye laboured over the blow his feet failed him on the slippery floe, and he fell on his back and slipped headforemost down from the skerry. [Those authentic shoes are sooo slippery!]
Eyrbyggja Saga

Thorir had a bear-bill in his hand, and therewith he ran at Uspak and smote at him, but Uspak put the thrust from him, and whereas Thorir had thrown all his might into the blow, and there was nought before the bill, he fell on his knees and louted forward.
Eyrbyggja Saga

Olaf went to the fold-door and struck at him with his spear. Hrapp took he socket of the spear in both hands and wrenched it aside, so that forthwith the spear shaft broke.
The Laxdaela Saga

Then she drew a sword and thrust it at Thord and gave him great wounds, the sword striking his right arm and wounding him on both nipples. So hard did she follow up the stroke that the sword stuck in the bolster. Then Aud went away and to her horse and leapt on to its back, and thereupon rode home. [Well done that bird.]
The Laxdaela Saga

And forthwith Helgi thrust his spear out through the window and through Hrapp, so that he fell dead to earth from the spear.
The Laxdaela Saga

One day Grettir was sitting in a booth and drinking [A fine occupation], because he wanted to keep out of Gunnar’s way. Suddenly there was a bang at the door, so hard that it broke in pieces, and in rushed four men armed and attacked Grettir. They were Gunnar with his followers. Grettir seized his arms which were hanging above his head and ran into a corner, where he defended himself, holding his shield before him, and hewing with his sword. They made little way against him. One blow he succeeded in delivering upon one of Gunnar’s followers, who needed nothing more. Then Grettir advanced, driving them before him out of the booth, and killing another of them.
Grettir’s Saga

Gunnar would fain have got away with his men, but on reaching the door he caught his foot on the doorstep, fell over and was not able to recover himself at once [Hate it when that happens]. He held his shield before him and retreated as Grettir pressed him hard. Then Grettir sprang on to the crossbenches near the door. Gunnar’s hands and the shield were still inside the door, and Grettir struck down between him and the shield, cutting off both his hands at the wrist. He fell backwards out of the door, and Grettir gave him his death-blow.
Grettir’s Saga

The berserk thought they were trying to get off by talking. He began to howl and to bite the rim of his shield. He held the shield up to his mouth and scowled over its upper edge like a madman. Grettir stepped quickly across the ground, and when he got even with the berserk’s horse he kicked the shield with his foot from below with such force that it struck his mouth, breaking the upper jaw, and the lower jaw fell down on to his chest [This is why shield eating is a Bad Idea]. With the same movement he seized the viking’s helmet with his left hand and dragged him from his horse, while with his right hand he raised his axe and cut off the berserk’s head.
Grettir’s Saga

Karli ran his ship alongside the other side of Gunnar’s ship, and hurled a spear athwart the deck, and aimed at him about the waist. Gunnar sees this, and turned him about so quickly that no eye could follow him, and caught the spear with his left hand, and hurled it back at Karli’s ship, and that man got his death who stood before it.
Njal’s Saga

Against Gunnar came Vandil, and smote at once at him with his sword, and the blow fell on his shield. Gunnar gave the shield a twist as the sword pierced it, and broke it short off at the hilt.
Njal’s Saga

Audulf the Easterling snatches up a spear and launches it at Gunnar. Gunnar caught the spear with his hand in the air, and hurled it back at once, and it flew through the shield and the Easterling too, and so down into the earth [Seems to be a popular trick].
Njal’s Saga

To save the minds of his soldiers from being melted into sloth by inaction ['Minds melted into sloth' - I like it.], he decreed that they should assiduously learn from the champions the way of parrying and dealing blows. Some of these were skilled in a remarkable manner of fighting, and used to smite the eyebrow on the enemy’s forehead with an infallible stroke; but if any man, on receiving the blow, blinked for fear, twitching his eyebrow, he was at once expelled the court and dismissed the service.
The Nine Books of the Danish History of Saxo Grammaticus

So then befell a great battle, and Steinthor was at the head of his own folk, and smote on either hand of him; but the fair-wrought sword bit not whenas it smote armour, and oft he must straighten it under his foot.
Eyrbyggja Saga

Then he ran to Freystein, and smote him on the neck with his sword, and loud was the clatter of that stroke. So he cried withal: “Art smitten, Rascal?”
“Smitten forsooth,” said Freystein, “but yet no more than thou didst deem, for no wound have I therefrom.” For in a hooded hat of felt was Freystein, with horn sewn into the neck thereof, and on that had the stroke fallen.
Eyrbyggja Saga

Olaf bade the crew fetch out their weapons, and range in line of battle from stem to stern on the ship; and so thick they stood, that shield overlapped shield all round the ship, and a spear point stood out at the lower end of every shield. Olaf walked fore to the prow, and was thus arrayed: he had a coat of mail, and a gold, reddened helmet on his head; girt with a sword with gold-in-laid hilt, and in his hand a barbed spear chased and well engraved. A red shield he had before him, on which was drawn a lion in gold [Tart].
The Laxdaela Saga

Grettir got off his horse. He had a helmet on his head, a short sword by his side, and a great spear in his hand without barbs and inlaid with silver at the socket. He sat down and knocked out the rivet which fastened the head in order to prevent Thorbjorn from returning the spear upon him [Cunning].
Grettir’s Saga

Then Kettle of the Mark rushed at Kari, and thrust at him with his spear. Kari threw up his leg, and the spear stuck in the ground, and Kari leapt on the spear-shaft, and snapped it in sunder.
Njal’s Saga

Now they all rose up and ran at them, and Modolf Kettle’s son was quickest of them, and thrust at Kari with his spear. Kari had his shield before him, and the blow fell on it, and the spear stuck fast in the shield. Then Kari twists the shield so smartly, that the spear snapped short off, and then he drew his sword and smote at Modolf; but Modolf made a cut at him too, and Kari’s sword fell on Modolf’s hilt, and glanced off it on to Modolf’s wrist, and took the arm off, and down it fell, and the sword too. Then Kari’s sword passed on into Modolf’s side, and between his ribs, and so Modolf fell down and was dead on the spot. Grani Gunnar’s son snatched up a spear and hurled it at Kari, but Kari thrust down his shield so hard that the point stood fast in the ground, but with his left hand he caught the spear in the air, and hurled it back at Grani, and caught up his shield again at once with his left hand.
Njal’s Saga

It was also but a short space of time before Eyvind did come up swinging his sword, and made a cut at the king; but Thoralf thrust his shield so hard against Eyvind that he tottered with the shock.
The Chronicle of the Kings of Norway

And he ran at him with uplifted axe; but the viking Skarde swung himself in the rope, and let himself fall just before Thorkel’s feet, so that Thorkel fell over him, and Vagn caught the axe and gave Thorkel a death-wound [I don't really like this 'flinging yourself under the enemy's feet' plan for some reason].
The Chronicle of the Kings of Norway

He looked down over the ship’s sides, and saw that his men struck briskly with their swords, and yet wounded but seldom. Then he called aloud, “Why do ye strike so gently that ye seldom cut?” One among the people answered, “The swords are blunt and full of notches.” Then the king went down into the forehold, opened the chest under the throne, and took out many sharp swords, which he handed to his men. [Say "ta"]
The Chronicle of the Kings of Norway

King Olaf threw his shield over his head, and sank beneath the waters. Kolbjorn held his shield behind him to protect himself from the spears cast at him from the ships which lay round the Serpent, and he fell so upon his shield that it came under him, so that he could not sink so quickly. [Shields have so many uses]
The Chronicle of the Kings of Norway

Arnliot had a large halberd, of which the upper part was mounted with gold, and the shaft was so long that with his arm stretched out he could scarcely touch the top of it; and he was girt with a sword.
The Chronicle of the Kings of Norway

Then the bonde-army pushed on from all quarters. They who stood in front hewed down with their swords; they who stood next thrust with their spears; and they who stood hindmost shot arrows, cast spears, or threw stones, hand-axes, or sharp stakes.
The Chronicle of the Kings of Norway

Eystein and his men had hastened so fast from the ships that they were quite exhausted, and scarcely fit to fight before they came into the battle; but afterwards they became so furious, that they did not guard themselves with their shields as long as they could stand upright. At last they threw off their coats of ringmail, and then the Englishmen could easily lay their blows at them; and many fell from weariness, and died without a wound.
The Chronicle of the Kings of Norway

Olver lifted his axe, and struck behind him with the extreme point of it, hitting the neck of the man who was coming up behind him, so that his throat and jawbone were cut through, and he fell dead backwards. Then he heaved his axe forwards, and struck the next man in the head, and clove him down to the shoulders.
The Chronicle of the Kings of Norway

While the Vindlanders were storming the castle, their king and his chiefs were out of the battle. At one place there was a man among the Vindlanders shooting with a bow, and killing a man for every arrow; and two men stood before him, and covered him with their shields. Then Saemund Husfreyja said to his son Asmund, that they should both shoot together at this bowman. “But I will shoot at the man who holds the shield before him.” He did so, and he knocked the shield down a little before the man; and in the same instant Asmund shot between the shields, and the arrow hit the bowman in the forehead, so that it came out at his neck, and he fell down dead.
The Chronicle of the Kings of Norway

They changed the watch with each other in the night, and those who had been before on watch lay down and slept; but all completely armed. It was their custom, when they went to sleep, that each should have his helmet on his head, his shield over him, sword under the head, and the right hand on the sword-handle. [Sounds like they were short of room in their authentic tent]
The Chronicle of the Kings of Norway

In this tumult King Hakon received his death-wound. When his men knew he had fallen they rowed with all their might against the enemy, threw away their shields, slashed with both hands, and cared not for life. This heat and recklessness, however, proved soon a great loss to them; for Erling’s men saw the unprotected parts of their bodies, and where their blows would have effect. The greater part of Hakon’s men who remained fell here; and it was principally owing to the want of numbers, as they were not enough to defend themselves.
The Chronicle of the Kings of Norway

My comments added in red.

Flosi snatched the spear from him, and launched it at Ingialld, and it fell on his left side, and passed through the shield just below the handle, and clove it all asunder, but the spear passed on into his thigh just above the knee-pan, and so on into the saddle-tree, and there stood fast. Then Flosi said to Ingialld, “Did it touch thee?
“It touched me sure enough,” says Ingialld, “but I call this a scratch and not a wound.” [So there.] Then Ingialld plucked the spear out of the wound, and said to Flosi, “Now bide thou, if thou art not a milksop.” Then he launched the spear back over the river. Flosi sees that the spear is coming straight for his middle, and then he backs his horse out of the way, but the spear flew in front of Flosi’s horse, and missed him, but it struck Thorstein’s middle, and down he fell at once dead off his horse.
Njal’s Saga

Now Thorgisl (Hermundson) smites a stroke on him down his nose from the brow, and said: “Now hast thou gotten a good mark befitting thee; and even such should more of you have.” Then spake Thorgisl (the Hewer): “Nought good is the mark; yet most like it is, that I shall have the heart to bear it manfully; little have ye yet to brag over.” And he smote at him so that he fell and is now unfightworthy.
Heitharviga Saga

Now Eyolf smiteth at Odd, and it came on to his cheek and on to his mouth, and a great wound was that. Then spake Eyolf: “Maybe the widow will think the kissing of thee worsened.” Odd answereth: “Long hath it been not over good, and now must it be much spoilt forsooth; yet it may be that thou wilt not tell thereof to thy sweetheart.” And he smote at him, so that he gat a great wound.
Heitharviga Saga

Then Steinthor Olafson leapt at Bolli, and hewed at his neck with a large axe just above his shoulders, and forthwith his head flew off. Thorgerd bade him “hale enjoy hands”, and said that Gudrun would have now a while a red hair to trim for Bolli.
The Laxdaela Saga

“Here I bring you your axe,” said Thorgeir. Then he struck at Thorfinn’s neck and cut off his head. [Hell of a way to start a conversation]
Grettir’s Saga

It was raining hard, so he did not go outside, but stood holding both the door-posts with his hands and peering round. At that moment Thorbjorn sidled round to the front of the door and thrust his spear with both hands into Atli’s middle, so that it pierced him through. Atli said when he received the thrust: “They use broad spear-blades nowadays.” [Great last words!] Then he fell forward on the threshold.
Grettir’s Saga

Kol thrust at him with his spear; Kolskegg had just slain a man and had his hands full, and so he could not throw his shield before the blow, and the thrust came upon his thigh, on the outside of the limb and went through it.
Kolskegg turned sharp round, and strode towards him, and smote him with his short sword on the thigh, and cut off his leg, and said, “Did it touch thee or not?”
“Now,” says Kol, “I pay for being bare of my shield.”
So he stood a while on his other leg and looked at the stump.
“Thou needest not to look at it,” said Kolskegg; “’tis even as thou seest, the leg is off.”
Then Kol fell down dead. [Possibly my favourite of the highlights]
Njal’s Saga

Thorgrim the Easterling went and began to climb up on the hall; Gunnar sees that a red kirtle passed before the windowslit, and thrusts out the bill, and smote him on the middle. Thorgrim’s feet slipped from under him, and he dropped his shield, and down he toppled from the roof. Then he goes to Gizur and his band as they sat on the ground. Gizur looked at him and said, “Well, is Gunnar at home?
“Find that out for yourselves,” said Thorgrim; “but this I am sure of, that his bill is at home,” and with that he fell down dead. [More great last words]
Njal’s Saga

Thorgeir lifted the axe, “the ogress of war,” with both hands, and dashed the hammer of the axe with a back-blow into the head of him that stood behind him, so that his skull was shattered to small bits. “Slain is this one,” said Thorgeir [Nothing like stating the bloody obvious]; and down the man fell at once, and was dead.
Njal’s Saga

There sat also a very handsome man with long hair, who twisted his hair over his head, put out his neck, and said, “Don’t make my hair bloody.”
A man took the hair in his hands and held it fast. Thorkel hewed with his axe; but the viking twitched his head so strongly that he who was holding his hair fell forwards, and the axe cut off both his hands, and stuck fast in the earth.
The Chronicle of the Kings of Norway

King Magnus received a wound, being pierced by a spear through both thighs above the knees. The king laid hold of the shaft between his legs, [Oh how easy to take that phrase out of context!] broke the spear in two, and said, “Thus we break spear-shafts, my lads; let us go briskly on. Nothing hurts me.”
The Chronicle of the Kings of Norway

The excerpts are from the translations at The Online Medieval and Classical Library.

My comments added in red.

Wermund said that his son had judged all things rightly, and bade him first learn the use of arms, since he had been little accustomed to them. When they were offered to Uffe, he split the narrow links of the mail-coats by the mighty girth of his chest, nor could any be found large enough to hold him properly. For he was too hugely built to be able to use the arms of any other man. At last, when he was bursting even his father’s coat of mail by the violent compression of his body, Wermund ordered it to be cut away on the left side and patched with a buckle; thinking it mattered little if the side guarded by the shield were exposed to the sword.
The Nine Books of the Danish History of Saxo Grammaticus

Then I uncovered and drew my sword, and as the smith fled I clove his privy parts; his hams were laid open, cut away from the bone; they showed his entrails. [Ouch!]
The Nine Books of the Danish History of Saxo Grammaticus

Hildigisl slunk off with a spear through both buttocks, which was the occasion for a jeer at the Teutons, since the ugliness of the blow did not fail to brand it with disgrace.
The Nine Books of the Danish History of Saxo Grammaticus

Now see to thy safety henceforward,
And stick to thy horse and thy buckler;
Or this mallet of mine, I can tell thee,
Will meet with thine ear of a surety. ["Shut up or I'll hit you with a mallet?" - I like it.]
Now say no more stories of feasting,
Though seven in a day thou couldst tell of,
Or bumps thou shalt comb on thy brainpan,
Thou that breakest the howes of the dead.
Song from Kormak’s Saga

Hrut raised up his halberd and struck Eidgrim through the back between the shoulders so that the coat of mail was torn and the halberd flew out through the chest, and Eidgrim fell dead off his horse, as was only natural.
The Laxdaela Saga

At that moment An fell, having fought for some time, with his inwards coming out. [Chaming]
The Laxdaela Saga

He shattered and broke with the bite the sword Hoding which smote upon my head, and would have dealt worse wounds if the edge of his blade had held out better.
The Nine Books of the Danish History of Saxo Grammaticus

Cormac felt for his sword, but it had slipped out of the sheath. [Don't you hate it when that happens?]
Kormak’s Saga

They fall to fight together; Ketil goeth against Bardi, and Thorgaut against Thorberg. There lacked not great strokes and eggings-on. [Can't go wrong with a bit of egging-on]
Heitharviga Saga

Now that day men gave and took wounds, and one man from the Northcountry-men was brought to his death, and he was borne into a copse that was on the ere, and much blood ran from his wounds, and there stood a pool of blood in the copse. There was the youngling Kiartan, the son of Thurid of Frodis-water, with a little axe in his hand; he ran to the copse, and dipped the axe in the blood.
Eyrbyggja Saga

But the next morning men had a turf-play beside the booth of the sons of Thorbrand, and as Thorlak’s sons passed by, forth flew a great piece of turf, and smote Thord Wall-eye under the poll, and so great was the stroke, that he fell heels over head; but when he arose, he saw that Thorbrand’s sons were laughing at him hugely.
Eyrbyggja Saga

Thorod Thorbrandson had so great a wound in the back of his neck that he might not hold his head straight; he had on hose-breeches withal, and they were all wet with blood. A home-man of Snorri the Priest was about pulling them off; but when he fell to stripping them he could not get them off. Then he said: “No lie is that concerning you sons of Thorbrand, when folk say ye are showy men, whereas ye wear clothes so tight that they may not come off you.”
Thorod said: “Belike thou pullest slovenly.” And therewith the home-man set his feet against the bed-stock and pulled with all his might, but yet gat them off none the more.
Then Snorri the Priest went thereto, and felt along his leg, and found a spear stuck through his leg between the hough sinew and the leg bone, that had nailed together the leg and the breeches. Then said Snorri that the thrall was a measureless fool not to have thought of such a thing.
Snorri Thorbrandson was the briskest of those brothers, and he sat at table beside his namesake that evening. Curds and cheese they had to meat, but Snorri noted that his namesake made but little play with the cheese, and asked why he eat so slowly.
Snorri Thorbrandson answered that lambs found it the hardest to eat when they were first gagged.
Then Snorri the Priest drew his hand down his throat, and found an arrow sticking athwart his gullet and the roots of the tongue. Then Snorri the Priest took drawing-tongs and pulled out the arrow, and then Snorri Thorbrandson fell to his meat.
Then Snorri the Priest healed all the sons of Thorbrand. But when Thorod’s neck grew together his head sat somewhat drawn backwards on his trunk, and he said that Snorri would heal him into a maimed man. Snorri said that he deemed the head would come straight when the sinews were knit together; but Thorod would have nought but that the wound should be torn open again, and the head set straighter. But all went as Snorri had guessed, and as soon as the sinews were knit together the head came right; yet little might Thord lout ever after. [Whinge whinge whine]
Eyrbyggja Saga

Grettir tackled them each in turn, now thrusting with the spear, now hewing with the sword, while they defended themselves with logs lying on the ground or with anything else which they could get.
Grettir’s Saga

Neither of them had a helmet. Grettir went along the marsh and when he was within range launched his spear at Thorbjorn. The head was not so firm as he had intended it to be, so it got loose in its flight and fell off on to the ground. [Annoying when that happens]
Grettir’s Saga

Tjorvi, indeed, threw his shield before him on the ice, but he leapt over it, and still kept his feet, and slid quite to the end of the sheet of ice. [Smart-arse]
Njal’s Saga

So he ran in up the hall, and smote Gunnar Lambi’s son on the neck with such a sharp blow, that his head spun off on to the board before the king and the earls, and the board was all one gore of blood, and the earl’s clothing too. [That'll ruin your dinner]
Njal’s Saga

He struck the lenderman before mentioned (Thorgeir of Kviststad) across the face, cut off the nose-piece of his helmet, and clove his head down below the eyes so that they almost fell out.
The Chronicle of the Kings of Norway

Erling himself was wounded in the left side; but some say he did it himself in drawing his sword.
The Chronicle of the Kings of Norway

Pronunciation notes can be found at the bottom of the page.

Walk Forward: Cerddwch y mlaen

Clash Weapons on Shields: Gwrthdaroch eich arf ar y tarian

Trot. Move up to the Enemy: Ewch ymlaen at y gelyn

Await the Order, take one pace forward and step and stop: Aros am y trefn, ewch am gam ac wedyn atalnod

Stand Firm: Sefiwch yn cadarn

About Turn: Troi tua

Await the Order. Form a Line: Dsigwylwch am y trefn, ewch mewn llinell

Left Turn: Troiwch i’r wyth

Right Turn: Troiwch i’r dde

Fall Back: Cwympiwch yn ol

Sit down: Eisteddwch

Hurry: Brysiwch

Quiet: Tawelwch

Fall Out: Cwympiwch allan

Stop: Atalnod

Attention: Bod yn Bresennol

Assemble or Rally: Cyfarfod (“To me” would be “I fi”)

Open Order (come to attention with your shield at your side and your spear held upright at the shoulder): Trefn agored

Dress the Line left/right: Cyfeirwch y llinell cwhith/de

Close Order (pick up spear): Trefn Agos, Codiwch eich arf

Shield Wall: Tarian mur

Draw Weapons: Tynniwch eich arf

Pronunciation Notes

AE – EYE
CH – as in LOCH
WY – WE or OI
DD – as in THE FF – as in OFF
F – as in OF
I – EI
U – EE
EI – EYE
Y – UH or EE

To do “LL”, place your tongue to the roof of your mouth and blow. The “LL” sound should be made with the teeth apart, whereas the “sssssss” has the teeth together.