NEWSLETTER 1155
Samurai were the lords of life and death in old Japan. If you were a peasant, you could be killed for looking at a samurai the wrong way. If a samurai killed another Samurai all he had to do was make a statement at the local government headquarters and he was scott free.
Samurai were trained from the cradle in a variety of arts. They were expected to give their lives in the service of their Lord, and they were expected to make that life given worth something. Samurai were arguably the greatest warriors this planet has ever seen.
The greatest Samurai of them all may have been Sokaku Takeda. Compared to Myamoto Musashi, referred to as a Tengu (demon), he mastered many different skills and weapons including sword, staff, half-bow, short-staff, and throwing darts. He also received a license in the spear arts of the Hozoin-ryu, and he taught over thirty thousand students during his lifetime, among them the founders of Aikido and Hapkido.
From high in a tree the boy watched the approaching armies. The Imperial Forces with their waving banners moved in geometric fashion across the vale. The infantry chanted in thunderous voice and dared the world, and the immaculate cavalry on their high stepping chargers darted back and forth, shouting challenges to the rebels.
The boy was small for his age, which was only ten, and yet he studied the precision movements of the large numbers of men with a bold eye. They moved well, and they looked so beautiful in their lacquered armor, yet his father had merely referred to them as trained dogs. Suddenly, beneath the boy, who’s name was Sokaku Takeda, the rebels emerged from the forest.
These were not peacocks, but taciturn, worn warriors, and among them Sokaku could pick out his father, and other family members. These were his clan, the Aizu, and he felt a fierce surge of pride. Now we shall see, he thought, and he unconsciously flexed his fingers–and quickly unflexed them.
He had been slow in mastering a grappling technique the night previous, and his father had held his hand over the fire while his grandfather watched. He had not cried, had merely stared as his flesh singed. When the punishment was done he had not cradled his hand, but merely let it hang, a mute reminder to work harder, to master the techniques quickly lest the singe-ing happen again.
His flesh had been burned before, and it would be again, and what was more important was the coming battle. Watch and learn, his father had cautioned him the night previous–learn what gets a man killed, and what lets a man live. The ten year old knew the truth of his fathers words, and he settled in to watch the battle.
TO BE CONTINUED…
About the Author: Al Case began martial arts in 1967. He became a writer/columnist for martial arts magazines, and has produced 100s of books and 100s of hours of martial arts videos. If you want to learn how to use the sword as well as Sokaku Takeda, check out Al’s course on…
Have a great work out!
Al Case
MonsterMartialArts.com
