SCA Life

Frequent readers have already read about my first trip to Pennsic, a few Mondays ago.

The year I graduated from high school, I had a little money of my own and an intense desire to return to Pennsic. I had made a desultory attempt at getting involved with the local groups in Sacramento, but as a teenager whose parents were not playing, things were a little more complicated than I had expected. Besides, I already had quite a few obligations. Between Girl Scouts, children’s theater, church activities, not to mention the ongoing attempt to finish high school, I didn’t have much space for another activity.

Thus, at 18, I boarded a plane to New Jersey, to visit my aunt again and go with her to Pennsic. This trip was an entirely different experience. The first time, it was just me, my aunt and my uncle. This time, there were two younger people along with us, close to my age, Robi and Tova, and the years between 15 and 18 make quite a number of changes in outlook and understanding. Also in the meantime, my aunt had become qualified as a fighter, which guaranteed my attendance at the battles I could watch.

Again, I worked at Medieval Miscellanea, and again, I left with less money than I’d started with, but my clearest memory of Pennsic XVIII was of the battles. My aunt is a member of the Great Dark Horde, and that year the Horde fought with the East because, according to my understanding, the Midrealm failed to provide payment for their aid in a previous year. In fact, we marched with the warriors to the Field Battle singing “Oh, the Midrealm will not pay, oh, the Midrealm will not pay. We’re fighting for the East because the Midrealm will not pay.”

Imagine, if you will, an enormous open field with hundreds fighters lined up along either side. My aunt and the force from the Horde were about two thirds of the way down the East’s front line. Non-combatants stood about twenty or thirty feet behind the lines, on a hill, carrying banners and watching. One of the banners on that occasion was an enormous Chiquita banana.

The order came for the battle to begin, and before the first pause (because they pause, of course, for the dead to get up and out of the way of the living), thirteen of the Horde’s seventeen fighters were down. It was like watching a magnet attract iron filings. Almost the entire Midrealmer line converged on the Horde’s position, so for the Horde, the Field Battle was very short. Apparently, the Midrealm fighters were not pleased with our marching song.

Then there was the Bridge Battle. Imagine the same field, now with dozens of hay bales piled to form the shape of a bridge. Within the hay bales, you’re on solid ground. Outside them, and you’re attempting to swim in armor. In other words, you’re out of the battle.

My aunt and her close compatriots, Clothilde and Magda, wound up close to the back of the battle lines, so the only folks in front of them were on their side. To win the battle, though, the East had to cross the bridge, and the easiest way to get rid of the enemies opposite them was to push right through them, knocking them off on either side into the water. To encourage this effort, these three lady fighters placed their shields on the backs of the fighters in front of them, shoved hard and yelled, “Puuuuush!!” They called it the Lamaze method of warfare.

I came home with fewer weapons that time, but with just as many crazy stories. It was still another two years before I got actively involved in the Society, though. That took an act of serendipity.

Pennsic, Lamaze, warfare, SCA, Society for Creative Anachronism, anachronist, Midrealm, Horde, Great Dark Horde, field battle, bridge battle, Girl Scouts