“I wanted to get your thoughts on this scene from the TV show 'Vikings'. The thing I liked about it were that the Nordic antiheroes averaged 3-4 inches taller than their Saxon enemies, but I wanted to get your opinion as to it's authenticity. The question I get asked every time I show this scene to others is, ‘Why don't the Saxons attack the Vikings' exposed legs? Was the shield wall really that effective?’"

Okay Adam, I had read everything on the subject published up until 98, which means I’m no expert here. I viewed the film clip and will tackle it in three portions.

The Shield Wall was mentioned in Nordic and Christian texts, with the most extensive study done on its use revolving around the Beaux Tapestry and the Battle of Hastings in 1066. Shield walls were used by Greeks and Romans, and are a means by which spears can be made more effective. The smaller Saxon shield [depicted here, and I do not know if it is authentic] is useless for such a formation. Compared to the Greeks and Romans the Vikings had to have been amateurs, with the exception of the Varangian Guard of the Byzantines, once commanded by Harold Hadratta who died at Stamford Bridge just before the Saxon House Carls rushed south to meet the Normans at Hastings. The Saxons in this battle are armed more like the Normans at Hastings and it is thought that the Saxons at Hastings would have been armed like these Vikings but with mail and helmets, and like the Varangian Guard, predominantly using axes that are ideal for cleaving legs.

Shield Walls and Leg Injuries are attested to in the historical record by the Greeks using grieves and shield curtains and having butt spikes on their spears, by the Romans lengthening the shield to meet the grieve, in the Nordic sagas in which dueling accounts featured leg cleaving, and in an archaeological site of about 1300 in Gotland [Ausby I think] discussed in John Keegan’s book The Face of Battle, in which over 40% of the fatalities came from catastrophic leg injuries.

In 2002 I lost a gladiatorial bout to Chuck Goetz when he hit me in the bicep tendon behind the knee with an axe handle—just the handle bro. I still can’t straighten this thing out on a cold day.

This TV Battle was not too badly done, although the Saxons were essentially acting as the witless zombie uke of martial arts infamy. Let’s say that the Saxons had the good fortune of being armed with a time machine, but the misfortune of plucking me from my desk instead Hannibal Barca who is the kind of psycho you really need to run a battle like this. Having been tapped as an advisor, what would I do to insure their victory?

Okay Adam, as I wrap my bathrobe around my arm and prepare to lay about with my keyboard, I would give this pre-battle speech. “Okay boys, first, kill these three rich cowards with the horses.”

A minute later, as I exchange my keyboard for a blade…

“Now we’re cooking with grease as my grandma would say. First, these idiots have no helmets or greaves. First line stabs at the face, second line stabs at the feet. If you have to abandon spear cleave with a rising and descending ‘i’ pattern—upward slash at their hand, loop cut at their pretty face, and descending slash at the leg. Do not go shield to shield because your shields suck. They will close when you start sticking feet and faces so overlap their line on their open side and make them drift. When they start to drift, or at my call when they open ranks so that the rear echelon faɡɡots can wing you with their arrows, our three new horseman with three foot will ride around the closed shield-side flank and sweep the archers and attack the front line fighters from behind—just crash your horse into somebody and start stabbing.”

“Now, this is very important. If I’m going to have to drink warm beer and live without dentistry until I finally die of upper respiratory complications on this shit island—that my ancestors saw fit to vacate in exchange for being scalped by screeching cannibals at the edge of some primeval forest—just so you knuckleheads can win battles and score pussy that still has teeth, I need to be compensated. So under no circumstances kill, maim, of deface that hot little blonde they brought along for God only knows what. Oh yes, after I commit the reserves I’ll fight at the angle of the shield wall, unlike these rich boys that got you into this mess, and were ready to sit and watch you get butchered.”

“Now go poke out eyes and pin feet to the ground.”

If you liked this article you might want to make sure you are never at a loss for ancient brutal lore by clicking on the link below.