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Roman Legionnaires, The Red Shirt “FU,” Hardened Pugilists, & “Rough Ways” by Mark Hatmaker

 


Let’s see if we can learn a lesson about toughening up in our own regimens, in our own quarantines, hell, maybe just in day-to-day living in our often nothing more “jarring” than “Keith, doesn’t share my opinion. Me sad.”

Our lesson is essentially, “Go harder, go heavier” in the day-to-day than is expected or asked so that you may laugh at any obstacle that the opposition or life has to offer.

The Legionnaire Example

Flavius Vegetius Renatus offers the following advice for the training of the formidable Roman Legionnaire.

We are informed by the writings of the ancients that, among other exercises was that of the post. They gave the recruits round bucklers woven with willows, twice as heavy as those used on real service, and wooden swords double the weight of the common ones. They exercised them with these at the post both morning and afternoon…”—Military Institutions of the Romans, [AD 378]

[My Rough ‘n’ Tumblers this very “extra” weight tactic is what is used in The Black Box Project Tomahawk “Dancing” methodology—and also why we consider mock weapons of lighter weight so perniciously foolish.]

Renatus goes on to say in a later passage…

“…this was the method of fighting used principally by the Romans, and their reason for exercising recruits with arms of such a weight was, that when they came to carry the common ones, which were so much lighter, the difference might enable them to act with greater security and alacrity in time of action.”

We also see this carried forward to the 21st century special warfare maxim of

Train Hard, Fight Easy.”

Handsome Harry’s Red Shirt Tactic

We move along to the 1920s-1930s gangster era. The time of Baby Face Nelson, Pretty Boy Floyd, and the dashing John Dillinger.

“Handsome” Harry Pierpont, considered by many to be the real brains and dash behind the Dillinger gang, seems to be the man who started the so-called “Red Shirt” movement within Michigan City State Prison.

Any time he was tossed into the “Hole” for an infraction, for an escape attempt [which was often] he was left nude, and rations reduced to a loaf of bread per day.

Pierpont made it a point to joke it up with the guards. Strip as if the unheated cell in northerly Michigan was a treat. He would sing, tell jokes to himself and the guards outside. He would purposely not eat the entire loaf of bread provided, tearing off portions to fashion a pillow.

He observed, the first three days are hell, but stay game and you settle into a comfortable rhythm. His tactic was to show indifference or out and out jollity or celebration. This was a strategy to place the self on a level plain with the guards, it was to say, “This? Hell, this ain’t nothin’. A walk in the park. Boys.”

Other prisoners began to take up Pierpont’s example, and those who became good at doing well with even less than required were called Red Shirts. The origins of the name is unclear.

Here’s Carl Sifakis an historian of penitentiaries on Red Shirts.

Their secret was that they found they were capable of punishing themselves more severely than the establishment could.”



The Pugilist Example of Red Shirts

If you are of the opinion “The old fighters, now They were tough.”

Usually such a thing is mere opinion, but when it comes from someone of authority who observed changes in training at the upper echelons, someone like Jimmy DeForest who trained such legends as Jack Dempsey, Stanley Ketchel, James J. Jeffries, Joe Gans, George Dixon, Joe Walcott, Kid McCoy, Tommy Ryan, Philadelphia Pal Moore, Jack Sharkey and Luis Angel Firpo.

I wager Mr. DeForest holds an opinion with a bit of evaluative heft to it.

Let’s turn the floor over to Mr. DeForest.

“[In the early days] the fighters came to the ring properly conditioned to do their best for the particular distance they were required to go—six, eight, ten, or fifteen rounds. For the most part they were fighters toughened by far more rigorous training methods than are employed today, and able to battle hard for fifteen rounds and be fresh at the finish.

“There were no ‘hot-house’ fighters a generation ago. The men didn’t have the money for expensive camps and imported chefs. They trained in cold barns, and when they wanted a shower, they stood under a big can in which holes had been punched while someone poured in a bucket of cold water from above. Rigorous treatment, but it made tough bodies. Men would go fifteen, twenty, and twenty-five rounds and show scarcely a mark afterwards. Nowadays blood flows freely in almost every six round go.”

Mr. DeForest penned those words in 1930. This before the age of air-conditioning [or “air-cooling” as it was termed then], efficient heating, or anything that we encounter in even the least well-equipped commercial gym of today.

Imagine how much more shade he would throw at today’s training environments.

In essence, he discusses the Legionnaire method, the red shirt method, you want tough? Do more than is asked. Do more than is expected. Do so with a dashing Harry Pierpont smile and easy laugh.



“I’m fine out here, Ma’am.”

There are countless tales in the historical record of woodsmen, rangers, pathfinders, go-getters of all sorts who when they come across habitation are glad for the company and any hospitality offered but often, there is still a reticence from these stalwart folks to go all in with a wallow in luxury.

Often, after chopping wood in barter for a meal, an offer to throw a bedroll down near the fire would be greeted with, “Thank you, I’m fine out here, Ma’am.”

Whether this was politeness, or a decision to always stay a bit Red Shirt hardened I cannot say, but it occurs enough that one cannot help but think that there is indeed a bit of liberating strategy in the hearty embracing of the tough.

It is an attitude seemingly embodied by this toss off comment from James-Younger outlaw, Bob Younger…

We are rough men used to rough ways.”

From Legionnaires, to Red Shirts, to the Wild Cat Lean & Men Boxers of Yore, and back again to outdoorsmen—Good and Outlaw, the embracing of the extra mile in tough renders what is to come a bit less than it may be.

And it is not a pose of tough, it is a true toughness embodied in a relaxed convivial “Me? I’m fine, this ain’t nothin’. How you doin?”

This charming Red Shirt of toughness might not be a bad fit. A worthy goal of slimming down and fitting into and wearing it with relaxed but toughened pride.

[For more Rough& Tumble history, Indigenous Ability hacks, and for pragmatic applications of old school tactics historically accurate and viciously verified see our RAW/Black Box Subscription Service.]

Or our brand-spankin’ new podcast The Rough and Tumble Raconteur available on all platforms.

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