Last week I ran through knife-v-unarmed and knive-v-knife combat, giving a basic overview of how those fights go. Like any fight with a knife, they’re close, fast, and always on the edge of death. These are also two of the most common knife scenarios, and the preferrable scenarios for the knifeman. From here on out, the odds start to turn against the knife, towards the other guy. Don’t take this to mean that knives stop being dangerous, though; a knife is always a danger. The difference is that purpose-built weapons tend to have certain advantages which counteract a knife’s advantages, sometimes even outstripping it in its own area.

A quick word before we proceed: the third of the three most common scenarios is knife versus improvised weapon. This improvised weapon can be a frying pan, a book, a backpack, a trashcan lid, a lamp, or a fork. Generally speaking, because they are not designed as weapons even to the extent a common kitchen knife is, these will be at a disadvantage, whether in speed, damage potential, or wieldiness. Further, their user generally isn’t practiced in using them as a weapon. In such cases, apply common sense and figure it out (with some practical testing where practical); the circumstances of such uses are too varied to get into here. Remember range, speed, environment (obstacles like rough ground or kitchen counters), the availability of alternatives, throwability, weight, size, fitness, and flexibility (in combatant and weapon alike) all matter.

Knife v Stick

A stick has an advantage over a knife only so long as the wielder retains his preferred range. Note that by ‘stick’ I mean anything stick-shaped, including a curtain rod, untipped spear haft, staff, baseball bat, and crowbar. As long as it has enough weight and length to inflict real damage, it counts. The stick user here must, as I said, maintain range. He has two goals: disarming his opponent (possibly via striking him in the hand or wrist) and damaging his opponent (via hitting the head, neck, limbs, or torso, in that rough order of precedence).

Sticks have the advantage at range, especially when we’re talking ones with weight enough to crack bone and inflict concussions, but they have a minimum range. Once the two fighters are too close to hit with the end of the stick while leveraging weight into it, the knife reigns supreme; the stick is still usable, but it is much less dangerous. At really short range, swinging is generally less effective (though remember it’s a little more just distance between the opponents’ feet- if you stand directly to somebody’s side, they may be able to get some good cracks in with the stick by striking across their body). Here the stick becomes a tool for blocking and controlling the opponent, particularly the knife. Its offensive capabilities will be different (somewhat complicated to explain here), with its blows more resembling modified punches on one hand and jabs (sticking the end of the stick, pointy or not, into the enemy. Preferably this targets a more damaging spot like the gut, chin, neck, or joints).

The knifeman will generally want to rush his opponent (unless he can ambush at short range), closing the distance as fast as possible. If he’s really lucky or skilled, he’ll avoid the stick’s ideal range altogether, reducing its impact by obstructing the user’s arm. In such cases, the stick may still impact, but its damage will be blunted to irrelevance. The knifeman may also choose to shelter his head behind his arms as he rushes, taking the stick’s impact on less vital parts of his body. Note that a stick can absolutely kill, stun, or stop (daze) if it hits the head; a wooden baseball bat to the head can kill. Clubs are considered a weapon for a reason.

Sometimes the knifeman may be able to tank the blow, sometimes he mayn’t. Therein lies the decision of the fight, in such cases, and combatants sometimes guess wrong as to their ability to tank. Remember too that the guy with the stick can also move; if he’s fast or skilled, he can simply move back or to the side to maintain distance (if the knifeman can’t stop and rushes right past his target after said target sidesteps, that’s a free shot to the back of the head or neck for the guy with the stick, a viable fight-ender).

If we’re talking nun-chucks, by the way, it would take an impressively lucky shot to stop the knifeman from closing the distance. Those things can inflict pain, but they’re not one-shot fight enders the way a good baseball bat can be and lack the rigidity for space-maintenance. Full on flails, particularly once they’re pole arms, are a different matter, given their increased damage capacity.

Knife v Sword

Swords and knives are sort-of, kind-of on a continuum. The difference between a really large knife and a small sword is academic (as long as we’re talking combat-knife, not tool-knife. Machetes are actually quite distinct from swords in terms of blade geometry). So when I talk about swords, I’m going to be talking about a true-blue sword. A really small sword may end up closer to the knife-v-knife situation- though even there I’ve got some points to make. Further, the sheer number of swords means I could probably, after a lot of research, write an entire book on how swords interact with knives.

The first point to understand is that swords beat knives. In open combat, it’s not really close. A competent swordsman who sees the knifeman coming is going to be able to inflict decisive damage on said knifeman before he can close the distance. As with a stick, the goal of the guy with the knife is to get in close, where the sword is, without specific training, very difficult to use, especially longer swords or thrusting weapons like the rapier. Unfortunately for the knifeman, swords are much, much better than sticks at inflicting debilitating or deadly damage. Remember what I said about how dangerous knives are? Swords take that damage potential even farther, at the cost of concealability and some speed.

A mildly competent swordsman can get in a solid cut to the upper body of the knifeman during the approach. This cut may or may not be immediately deadly, but with proper edge alignment, no armor, and proper target choice (neck, shoulders, lower head), it will end the fight. If the knifeman tries to block with his arms, he loses the use of at least one limb, with accompanying blood loss. The question remains, of course, of whether the knifeman will get in a few attacks before he stops being combat-functional, which is why it may be advisable for the swordsman to side-step or retreat, taking advantage of his enemy’s disorientation. At this point, it is up to the situation and the swordsman’s judgement if he continues striking or moves on.

Thrusts are also an option the swordsman has. These may maintain distance, but it is theoretically possible for the knifeman to simply run himself up the blade and stab away, having effectively disarmed the swordsman. It’s not good for the guy with the knife, but it’s not good for the swordsman either. Depending on the sword and its wielder, too, the blade may catch on bone and be wrenched out of its user’s hands, disarming him. Thrusts with a shorter blade will be less likely to incur this risk, although more dangerous due to their shorter range, as the arm of the swordsman is a viable target for the knife.

A sword has the definite range advantage on a knife. Rapiers, estocs, and similar very long thrusting weapons can give have up to four and a half feet of blade. While the thrust might not be a fight ender by itself, depending on where it lands, a competent swordsman will be able to use that range to maintain distance, evade the knifeman, and keep inflicting wounds. Even shorter weapons, like the small swords or sabers appearing of 18^th and 19^th century European combat, still have feet on the knife, with weight that gives their cuts (unlike some rapiers) great effect. This length also means that while the sword as a whole is due to its weight slower than the knife, its tip can move much faster (leverage!).

Greatswords will also have five-ish feet of range on the knife, and the weight which makes them less nimble than rapiers or knives means a greatsword only needs one decent hit to end the fight, given it is designed to split, not just cut. Six feet of sharpened steel will inflict catastrophic damage on any person they hit, barring good armor. Longswords, as currently classified, are shorter, but fast. A longsword user can strike and void the space fast enough to counter the knife attack. Overall, times are bleak for knives.

If you think that a knife can be used to block a sword, you’re out of luck. While it’s not impossible, and sufficient skill might be able to pull it off, especially against a smaller sword, it requires a level of speed, precision, and anticipation that aren’t practical in combat. The knife is too small and too light to stop the swing of a sword-blade in most circumstances; doing so even theoretically requires precise positioning and bracing. In some cases, it’s just not going to be possible: a greatsword can blow through the knife-block and the arm behind it in one go, then bite into the torso or skull behind that block.

Redirecting a thrust is theoretically more doable, but swords move fast. Due to leverage and angles, the swordsman can redirect his thrust around small obstructions much faster than a knifeman could do the same in an unarmed v knife situation, using small adjustments in his arms and hands to significantly alter the angle of the blade. While the size of a sword (and its cross-guard, in many cases) neutralizes this to some extent, the knife simply isn’t big enough to cover the area need to block. Redirections are therefore possible but incredibly difficult.

The guy with the knife still have a path to victory. If he can use the environment- a restricted hallway vs an out-of-position greatsword, a corner, an ambush, being in the dead-end of an alley- to get in close, the knife is suddenly at an advantage again, although the extent of that advantage will be determined by how good the swordsman is at half-swording and adapting to extreme CQC. Low visibility, surprise, and getting the swordsman drunk are all helpful on such an occasion. If the knifeman decides he can take it, too, he may be able to rush through the swordsman’s defense (a wall at his back is useful); if he’s lucky, the thrust will be survivable and he’ll gut the swordsman at close range before retreating to get medical help. If he’s unlucky, the thrust or cut is debilitating enough to kill him, but only after he kills his target. Very often, though, the swordsman inflicts enough damage that even once he gets close he can’t finish the job (or he doesn’t get close at all).

In all this, of course, both sides would like to be behind the other. This is, though, a general rule of combat, as essentially no weapon is anywhere near as effective in fighting behind its user.

As we should be coming to see, combat is a complex interplay of skill, speed, dexterity, strength, range, weapon, environment, visibility, fatigue, preparedness, and character (honor, pragmatism, mercy, etc.). No two fights work out precisely the same way without choreography. The patterns they follow, however, are the same, even if sometimes events line up just right to reach an unusual conclusion. In a fight, once death is on the line (which is sooner than people usually realize and definitely sooner than most movies portray), nearly anything can happen. You just need to make it believable, and that means you need to understand how things usually work.

God bless.