The year is 1066. King Harold and his army are camped outside Hastings on the eve of the great battle, and he goes to inspect his troops. The first man he comes to, is a mighty warrior wielding a massive two-handed battle-axe. “My good man,” says Harold, “can you demonstrate your skill with that axe?” “I shall try my best, Sire” says the axeman: he gives the axe a mighty heave and flings it at a great oak tree fifty feet away: the axe buries itself in the trunk and cleaves the mighty oak tree straight down the middle.
King Harold turns to his general and says “Place that man on our right side tomorrow: we need a warrior as good as that to defend our right flank.”
Next Harold comes to a tall spearman, wielding a ten-foot spear. “Can you show us what you can do with that spear?” “Certainly, my Liege,” replies the spearman: he hurls his spear with deadly accuracy towards the same oak tree; it splits the handle of the axe clean in half and embeds itself in the tree, cleaving the oak even further down the trunk.
“Excellent!” says Harold. “General, put that man on our left side tomorrow to defend us against attack from that quarter”.
The next man in line is a bowman. He is a short, weedy, squint-eyed individual bearing a poorly-cut longbow, badly strung, and with arrows in his quiver mostly bent and several with missing flights.
“All right, my man. Show us your skill with the bow.” The archer puts an arrow to the bow, aims at the oak tree, but misses it by about twenty feet.
“General,” says Harold, “Put that man at the rear of the army tomorrow, where he can’t cause any trouble. He’s as likely as not to take someone’s eye out with that thing...”
IGMC.
.
