Double Touch

Taking up épée at forty-one in a Dresden fencing club, from ten evenings of footwork to tournaments in Saxony, with every bout and every touch written down.

Seven hundred and fifty grams

January 23, 2025 · 3 min read

Eleven people started the course in September and six stayed. Since November I have trained with the club on Mondays and Thursdays, and since December I have been allowed to fence proper bouts on the electric pistes, which meant buying my own kit, because borrowed kit smells of everybody who borrowed it before you.

What I bought, partly second-hand from a club member whose daughter had outgrown it and partly new:

Altogether 515 euros, which my partner says is less than he expected and more than I told him.

The electric part is simple once you have seen it. The point of an épée is a tiny button on a spring, and when it is pushed in, it closes a circuit and the scoring box at the side of the piste shows a light and makes a noise like an old alarm clock. But only if it is pushed hard enough. The spring has to hold up a weight of 750 grams without the light coming on, so that a graze does not count and a real hit does. Before every tournament the referee checks each fencer’s weapons by holding the épée upright and setting a small steel weight on the point. If the light comes on, the épée is out.

My first electric bouts were in December, five touches or three minutes, against people who had been fencing for years. Since then I have fenced 23 bouts and won two, both against a fourteen-year-old who had a cold. In those 23 bouts I scored 41 touches and received 109, and 18 of my 41 were doubles, with both lights on at once. My coach says a double touch means I am hitting at the same moment as I am being hit, which is one step better than only being hit and one step worse than everything else.