I first heard about the Battlefield Proximity Combat system, created by my friend and student Hakim Isler, I wondered why such a system was needed. I thought surely someone has done this before. It seems like common sense that if you are going to send a combat soldier, who is wearing up to a hundred pounds of gear, weapons, and armor into battle, you would want to train him or her in a combat system that focused on how to win a fight for life on the battlefield.
The more I spoke with Hakim and other military friends about training for hand-to-hand survival in battle, the more surprised I became. It turns out that very little, if any, time and attention is given to providing realistic pragmatic training in preparing the soldier’s body, intellect, and spirit on how to achieve victory in those admittedly rare occasions when the battle degenerates down to an eye-to-eye struggle between determined adversaries.
I am aware that some branches of the United States military offer forms of spirit-building training based on sport grappling or sport boxing. Of course, these are by nature spirit-builders only, intended to foster fighting grit in young soldiers as opposed to teaching them what to do to survive the horror of a murderous assault. Spirit-building practice is carried out in light training clothes and not actual battle gear. Techniques taught are based on two individuals, each struggling for the submission of the other, and this does not address the practical techniques needed to preserve lives in actual combat. Spirit-building certainly has a valuable place in the education of young soldiers, but it can in no way replace honest preparation in how to avoid the kind of body and mind lock-up that happens in real battles and could result in death.
As an avid student of Japanese cultural and military history, and an apprentice to the ninja grandmaster in Japan in the 1970s, I have taken the ancient traditions, combat strategies, and philosophies of Japan’s ninja warriors and adapted them for use in the very different thinking West. Obviously, combat in 21st century America is different from that of the 1500s Japan, so technologies of engagement must also change. Nonetheless, the principles and philosophies are still highly valid and can be adapted. Yes, I still teach historical techniques to those interested, but unlike those traditionalists who hold to antiquated rigidity of form and structure, I realize that an honest and realistic update has to evolve…and here it is in Hakim’s book.
As you read and re-read Hakim’s book, ask yourself critical questions as you move from chapter to chapter.
How prepared am I to win in a horrific unpredictable battle clash?
How much do I know about how the body and brain operates under the surge of stress chemicals released in a dire survival conditions?
How much have I prepared for life saving combat through honest realistic training beyond the manly fun of wrestling a fellow soldier?
How ready am I to let go of the comfort of my previous beliefs and face the chilling prospect of rebuilding my combat preparedness in a whole new and different way?
I believe in Hakim Isler, and I believe in the system he has built based on our training together in Ohio and his life-saving experiences in the sands of the Mideast. Enjoy Hakim’s book. Learn and grow.
Stephen K. Hayes
Founder, Kasumi-An To-Shin Do Ninja Martial Arts
Black Belt Hall of Fame
Author of Tuttle book, The Ninja and Their Secret Fighting Art
As a member of the Special Operations community for 12 years, I have commanded several unique organizations with a variety of missions. Over the years I have come to realize that combative training is a key ingredient in the making of a Special Ops individual. The Special Operations community employs a variety of combative training systems. The recent evolution of the Battlefield Proximity Combat system captures the essence of all the others, but incorporates new techniques against evolving threats in the 21st century. I have personally observed Hakim Isler teach his system to my soldiers, who were operating in the toughest parts of Ramadi, Iraq. The confidence with which these soldiers were able to operate on the forward edge of the battlefield always paid dividends.
LTC Michael Layrisson, U.S. Army
chapter 1
JOURNEY TO CREATION
It was 6 a.m. as we formed up for physical fitness training (PT) at Fort Bragg, North Carolina. Orders for our PT uniform that day was that we were to wear battle dress uniforms (BDUs) and boots. The mood that day was a somber one, because we figured that there would be a long log run or some other difficult team building event, undoubtedly raising the “suck factor” of our lives. When cadre appeared, I remember getting that all too familiar feeling of anxiety that comes from finding out what was to come. We were given the eight commands necessary to get us ready to perform PT, and then we were informed that we would be conducting combative training.
I was 25 at the time and a newbie to the Army. However, since I was 8 years old, I had been studying the martial arts, so I had 17 years of experience by that point. You can imagine the my enthusiasm that morning after finding out that we would be studying combatives. Previously, I had only received a small block of instruction in basic training at Fort Benning. The training was not very impressive, but it wasn’t supposed to be. It seemed that the primary focus was to instill a fighting spirit in myself and the other soldiers. Now that I stood on the grass of “The Home of Special Operations,” I knew I would be learning things that would impress me.
As we began, I immediately felt like I had been thrust into a selection phase of a special school rather than a combatives class. For the next 40 minutes, we were ordered to perform a series of physical exercises designed to completely diminish our strength and energy. Although the others did not understand how this was related to combatives, I knew what was happening. I knew the cadre wanted us to be at a point of muscle failure so that when we were taught the techniques we couldn’t rely solely on our physical strength. With fatigue gripping our bodies, we’d really have to mentally focus to accomplish the techniques and achieve the desired results. I had seen this tactic used in several schools before, but never at such an early stage. I certainly thought that the techniques I was going to learn would blow my mind.
After the “smoke session” (an extremely high-paced and demanding work-out) was over, we formed a circle around the cadre. Finally, the cadre members started to demonstrate the techniques that we would be working on for the remainder of our PT time. As they started the demonstration, my mouth almost dropped to the floor. I wasn’t amazed at all. On the contrary, I was shocked. What I saw was very rigid, unrealistic, and unstable. The rigidity wasn’t much of a problem in my mind; I expected some of this, because it is sometimes easier to convey combatives this way when teaching to a crowd of people. The main problems were the unrealistic and hypocritical aspects of the techniques.
What I mean by unrealistic is that we spent our first 40 minutes of training being worn down so that we could not use strength, only to then learn techniques that only worked by using a great deal of strength. The cadre members were constantly yelling at the trainees to “pull harder, hit harder, or kick harder” when a technique wasn’t working. In my mind, I searched for a way to defend their methods. I told myself that they were just trying to instill a fighting spirit in us. But the fact is that they were yelling at people who couldn’t perform due to their fatigue. It made me wonder. In truth, it wasn’t spirit that was the problem; the techniques required too much energy and strength to be correctly performed.
So why did we start to succeed when we were yelled at? Well, no one wanted to hyperextend his or her arm because they were trying to be a successful attacker. So, what we started doing was taking it easy for the next attack or loosening our grip so that the defense could succeed.
Here’s