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Wired Weapons
by Rachel Covault
Who would think that an activity
as primitive as sword-swinging could develop into a high-tech
sport with electric weapons and "armorers" who need
to know the basics of electrical engineering?
In 18th and 19th century
duels, where modern sport fencing is rooted, the only equipment
required was a steel blade. Swordmasters taught their skills using
blunted weapons. Even as dueling became less common, young aristocrats
continued to learn sword-handling techniques as part of their
traditional curriculum. Sport fencing developed in order to give
the students a chance to show off their abilities in competition.
Since then, fencing has evolved into a game as athletic as basketball,
as strategic as chess, as safe as tennis, and as technological
as the BattleBots competitions on TV. (And some last-minute repairs
to the wires and sockets of electric fencing weapons can be as
precarious as the robotic contestants appear.)
Society's advancement
into the tech age has not left fencing behind. There was a time
when even the most basic fencing furnishings, such as masks to
protect the face, were too new to be widely popularized. Until
the early 19th century, wearing a mask was considered cowardly
and rude, implying that the opponent could not keep a weapon from
putting out an eye. Once masks went mainstream, fencers could
practice moves that were too dangerous to perform without head
protection. Other cutting-edge inventions over the decades have
enhanced the safety, boosted the speed, and altered the strategies
of this otherwise ancient activity.
EE 1001: Electrical Engineering for Fencers
Electronic scoring machines
provide the most obvious example of how fencing has adapted to
technology. Before scoring machines, a fencing bout required seven
people: the two fencers; the director, who assigned points; and
four side judges, who watched for on-target hits from the corners
of the rectangular strip that is the fencers' field of play. The
scoring machine replaced the side judges by announcing when a
fencer hits with a display of colored lights and a raucous buzz.
Wires snake from the machine to both ends of the fencing strip
and plug into a spring-loaded reel of wire. Each fencer is tethered
to a reel, which acts like a retractable dog leash, keeping the
wire taut. The end of the tether plugs into a cord that the fencer
wears under a white padded jacket and connects to the weapon.
There are three types
of fencing, each with a distinct weapon, target area, and rules:
épée, foil, and saber. In épée fencing,
hitting anywhere on the opponent's body with the tip of the weapon
results in a point. Épées used with the electronic
system have small buttons on the tips of their blades. Pushing
the button closes a circuit, allowing a small amount of current
to flow from the box, to the fencer, through wires in the blade,
to the button, and back. The machine responds with a colored light
and a noisy buzz.
So what happens if an
épéeist accidentally hits the ground in an attempt
to tag an opponent's toe? Since the machine cannot tell the difference
between a shoe and a floorboard, its light glows, and the referee
decides where the fencer hit. To prevent referees from awarding
points for floor hits, many tournaments feature strips made out
of copper mesh or aluminum plates. The surface is grounded to
the machine so that if a misguided weapon hits the copper, the
machine ignores the hit.
Foil fencers must aim
for the torso, so they wear vests called "lamés,"
garments woven with metallic threads. ("Lamé"
is pronounced "lah-MAY," not like the English word for
"unsatisfactory.") Unlike the épée circuit,
the foil circuit is normally closed. When the button on the end
of a foil is depressed against the vest, current is redirected
from retracing its path back through the foil and flows instead
through the lamé to the machine. A valid point is announced
with a colored light and a buzz. If the tip hits anything else,
the circuit is broken entirely and a buzzing white light reveals
an off-target hit.
Saberists may hit anywhere
above the waist with any part of the saber blade, including the
edges. They wear lamés with sleeves and masks with protective
bibs made out of lamé material. Touching one fencer's blade
to the other's lamé completes a circuit that lights up
the machine with another buzz.
Saber fencing in particular
has gone through almost yearly makeovers in its rules and equipment
since its electrification. Game strategy has followed suit. In
pre-electric times, points could only be scored by hits with the
blade's front edge or the last third of the back edge, where a
"real" saber is sharp. After several failed attempts
to electrify only those edges while insulating the rest of the
blade and the guard, the official rule-makers of fencing, the
Féderation Internationale d'Escrime or F.I.E., gave up
and declared that hits with any part of the blade earned points.
Another failed idea declared
that saber blades had to be moving in order to score. After all,
it isn't dangerous to simply place a sharp saber on someone's
arm. A saber is used for cutting, and in order to cut, it must
be swung. The F.I.E. mandated a device called the "capteur,"
an accelerometer that attached to the guard. It sensed when the
blade was moving and allowed the machine to register hits only
then. Capteurs did not take into account a move called the "point
in line," in which one fencer points the weapon straight
at an opponent, who often advances too fast to prevent running
into it. The blade is stationary, but if it had been sharp, the
opponent would have been impaled. The capteur idea lasted for
only three years.
There are groups of "classical"
fencers who refuse the convenience of the electric scoring system
used by "sport," or "Olympic-style," fencers.
Some blame the machines for introducing too many artificial conventions
to the game. Classical fencers prefer the style of the late 1800s
when proper technique and perfect form were as important as hits
scored. Fencing should be an honorable art, they say.
The electronic revolution
can't bear all the blame for fencing's modernization. A revolution
of a different sort gave it a healthy dose of speed and athleticism.
When the Russian Bolsheviks kicked out everything bourgeois, fencing
had to bow out, too, because it was seen as a pastime of the upper
class. Later, when the communist Soviet Union was searching for
sources of propaganda to bolster its image, it came up with the
idea of sweeping the Olympic Games. In order to do so, fencing
had to be brought back - but in an improved reincarnation. This
plan spurred a burst of scientific studies on how to win fencing
bouts, which produced the most extensive body of fencing research
up to that time. The result was a rejection of the formalized
traditions of the classical style used by the rest of the world
in exchange for an aggressive, fast, athletic style. The new fencers
may not have been graceful or gentlemanly, but they did return
home with medals around their necks. The only way other countries
could compete was by adopting the new style themselves. Modern
fencing was born.
The Perils of Swordplay
There is nothing like
a high-profile accident to stir up authorities. Before the 1982
World Championships in Rome, there were no regulations governing
the safety of fencing equipment. Then, Soviet Vladimir Smirnov,
the reigning world champion, took a hit to the mask during the
foil finals, and his opponent's blade snapped. This was not unusual.
In fact, Joe Byrnes, one of the United States Fencing Association's
technicians for national and international tournaments, recalls
competitions where halved sabers lined the walls four blades deep.
In Smirnov's case, half of the blade went flying benignly to the
floor, but the other half kept moving forward, piercing Smirnov's
mask and face, stopping at the back of his skull. Life support
kept him alive until shortly after the tournament's end.
The F.I.E. realized it
had to prevent similar incidents in the future. It led a massive
research effort to examine the sport's safety, and today, over
a third of the 106-page official fencing rulebook concerns equipment.
Any item that passes the F.I.E.'s strict guidelines for safety
is labeled with a special patch or stamp, and if a fencer is hurt
due to a defect in that item, the F.I.E. promises to investigate
the flaw and guarantees to pay for half the liability, including
medical bills. Everything is regulated, from the chemical composition
of mask mesh to the amount of Kevlar (the material used in bullet-proof
vests) sewn into jackets. Jackets must hold up to a force of 800
Newtons. F.I.E. blades are now smithed with martensic aged steel,
shortened to "maraging" steel, which significantly increases
the amount of time a blade can be used before it snaps compared
to non-F.I.E. carbon steel. Masks are tested for strength before
every tournament, and dents must be smoothed out.
Of course, all this gear
must be kept in good working order and fixed when it does break
in order to keep it safe. These are the duties of the armorer.
Team armorers repair weapons so that teammates can concentrate
on practice, while tournament armorers, sometimes referred to
as technicians, take care of electronic scoring systems, solder
patches onto holes in copper strips, and test competitors' gear
for safety and legality. North American Cup events, for example,
employ five or six full-time armorers for a four-day run. At local
tournaments, a single volunteer will do.
Swords of the Future
Even after decades of
development, fencing equipment is still being refined by technologically
inclined fencers. The latest masks are recognizable by the Lexan
plates that interrupt the mesh in front of the eyes, an effort
to heighten spectator interest by displaying fencers' expressions.
Battery-operated fans even perch near the forehead in some models,
cooling the athlete and preventing the plastic from fogging up.
The future of fencing might involve trading in the linear strips
for a round field of play. Wireless scoring systems are in the
works, and with them, fencers won't have to worry about getting
caught up in the leashes that connect them to the machine. Strips
were used even before electronic scoring for space reasons, but
who knows what direction the sport will advance into?
Fencing is no longer either the highly stylized art it once was
or the medieval brain-bashing it is sometimes pictured to be.
Even sword-swinging has followed the trends of technology and
has emerged as a fast-moving, highly strategic, athletic game.
For more information about fencing,
see:
 Spring
2004 Issue |
