Today’s sermon will weave a tale of housecats, early American colonists’ observations regarding battle-prowess in Native Americans, gang-bangers, good ol’ boy hunters, fox-hunters in the Old West, gamers and screen-users, Afghan Combat studies and, if we’ve done our job right, make a case for making risk part and parcel of cogent combat training.
Let’s start with the adorable housecat, Felis catus. Study after study has recorded that outdoor housecats are responsible for an astonishing amount of depredation. Any of us who own one of these “awesome prowling machines” [tip of the hat to Les Claypool] is aware that they can go through chipmunks, field mice, and birds like nobody’s business but…the story is deeper than that. For every kill you see, there are likely a double handful that you were not privy to witness.
If you want the skinny on just how serial-killer-esque the common cat can be, Pete Marra, head of the Smithsonian Migratory Bird Center authored a book on this topic titled Cat Wars: The Devastating Consequences of a Cuddly Killer. The numbers are shocking.
But ridding the planet of my gray tabby, Debbie, is not the point of today’s lesson. The feline point is that cats are indeed awesome prowling machines, well evolved to do what they do, and to do it damn well. They are beautiful killers in motion.
Now, the flip-side…you ever try to sneak up on a feral cat?
The same evolved mechanisms that go into making Felis catus so formidable a hunter also make it one mighty aware and scrappy prey animal.
Moving on…
Historians and anthropologists who have studied the early interactions of the European colonists and any of the indigenous tribes of the Americas, whether they be Eastern Woodland, Arctic Tundra denizens, Plains tribes, mountain tribes all comment on a few common ideas: hunting prowess, bravery in warfare, and the ability to “disappear” when battle odds seemed unwise.
Historians from Allan W. Eckert to Colin F. Taylor, working independently of one another have compiled an astonishing cache of information from both early colonist/pioneer sources and American Indian sources that suggest that this native prowess all evolves from hunting.
Young warriors [very young in most cases] are taught the ins and outs of hunting from practically Day One. Stalking, skulking, adept movement, keen perception and unflagging diligence are instilled early.
These qualities are often heightened/trained by making solitary hunts de rigueur, by requiring the venture for large and or dangerous prey, and by mandating that some hunts handicap the hunter, via low provender for the hunting journey or providing sub-par weaponry for the prey in question. The idea here is to instill a bit of the flip-side of the housecat prowess, making the prospective hunter-warrior feel more prey-like to increase overall awareness. The tribal strategy was “If one always hunts songbirds, you will only have the heart of a songbird.”
Moving on…
The 1880s saw a spate of English nobility making regal visits to the plains for catered hunting trips. Africa of the 1880-1930s saw the same phenomenon, well-off huntsmen from civilized quarters trekking into wilder realms with native guides or guides who had “gone native” to bag themselves some big game.
While in their home territories these “hunters” were good shots and quite good at running down game with a pack of hounds, whereas on the American Prairies and in the African veldt they found themselves at a bit of a loss. They may have possessed the proper weaponry [in almost all cases they were better geared than the guides and porters] but they lacked even rudimentary stalking, skulking, and cutting for sign skills.
[See Westward the Briton by Robert G. Athearn or any of the volumes by Safari Press for some of the hilarious fish-out-of-water details.]
Before we move on, we must consider these fish-out-of-water. These were intelligent doers. They had the gear and the inclination to travel to dangerous places to do what they were already pretty good at in a tamer realm. So, why the stark lack of success unless experienced scouts set-up-the shots or prepared the circumstances?
Chances are the answer is peril. Recall that our housecats are predators, but they can be stalked by dogs, coyotes, other cats, disapproving humans. They are sharp on both sides of the blade.
Our Native-Hunters, hunted often with less than ideal gear, and on occasion self-chose even less ideal than that. They hunted in an environment and/or prey that could very well do some reciprocal damage.
Moving on…
Afghanistan & Iraq.
The US Military noted that some troops were far better at spotting danger than others. These “early spotters” could “see” the ambush before it started, “felt” that things were wrong before they went wrong, and, in some cases, seemed to know where there was an IED.
The military wanted to find out how these soldiers were doing what they did and see if it could be dispersed, so they commissioned a study.
Journalist Tony Perry reported on this study in his article for the Los Angeles Times “Some Troops Have a Sixth Sense for Bombs.” October 28, 2009.
Army Sgt. Major Todd Burnett, himself a veteran of Afghanistan and Iraq conducted the research. After 18-months and over 800 troops sampled from various bases he came to the conclusion that “…two groups of personnel are particularly good at spotting anomalies: those with hunting backgrounds, who traipsed through the woods as youths looking to bag a deer or turkey; and those who grew up in tough urban neighborhoods, where it was often important to know what gang controls which block.”
Again, notice the flip side of Felis catus.
This is Richard Louv, author of The Nature Principle on the same study.
“A common factor seemed to be at work: plenty of experience outside the home and outside the electronic bubble, in an environment that demands better uses of the senses.”
Sgt. Burnett on the two groups…
“They just seemed to pick up things much better…They know how to look at the entire environment.”
Back to Mr. Louv, “And the other young soldiers, the ones who were raised with Game boys, and spent weekends at the mall? By and large, these enlistees lacked the ability to see nuances that might enable a soldier to spot a hidden bomb. Even with perfect vision, they lacked the special ability, that combination of depth perception, peripheral vision, and instinct, if you will, to see what was out of place in the environment. Their focus was narrow, as if they were seeing the world in a set format.”
Back to Sgt. Burnett, “[They saw] as if the windshield of their Humvee was a computer screen. The gamers were focused on the screen rather than the whole surroundings.”
Ponder the fact that the study and Sgt. Burnett’s observations were made over a decade ago when screens were only beginning to capture so much attention.
Do you think our current screen-training/screen-use has improved this state-of -affairs?
Felis catus, native hunters/warriors, good hunting guides, experienced scouts, good soldiers know that there is more to being a predator than having the gear and the privileges of rank, nobility, and good appearances on a fox hunt or high-scores in a first-person shooter game.
They know that 100% engagement is key.
But what seems to drive that engagement is not simply the Apex side of the predator-prey dichotomy. We are wise to train and/or experience circumstances of peril [controlled peril, sure] to escalate both our awareness AND our predatory combat game.
Failure to sharpen both sides of the blade makes us fat and lazy housecats, lordly nobility that needs our shots set perfectly to be a “success,” or soldiers that may not live out their tour no matter how much gear we carry, rah-rah words we grunt, or the amazing scores we rack on any screen.
To be an awesome prowling machine, we need to also embrace being prey—it will up our overall game.
[For more Rough& Tumble history, Indigenous Ability hacks, and pragmatic applications of old school tactics historically accurate and viciously verified see our RAW Subscription Service.]
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