The first time I heard the word "honorable" was when I was about six years old. At that time I was living in Sierra Leone, in West Africa.
My parents had emigrated from the the UK in the 1950s when the country was still a British colony. I was actually born there and have dual citizenship. 

Our house and grounds were surrounded by a tall fence to keep out dangerous animals, alligators in particular due to us living near a river and the ocean.
The picture below is of me (at the front) at age five playing on a local beach.
                        

One day I was playing in the garden and a boy called me over. 

He showed me this object of which I had never seen before. The boy picked up a stone and placed it in the object and aimed it like a weapon. The stone was propelled through the air at a glass bottle of which then smashed into pieces.
It was a catapult / slingshot of course.
The boy asked me if I wanted it and I eagerly said "yes".
"Ten cents."  The boy said, and held out his hand. I quickly ran over to my father, who was working on the family car at the time. I asked him for 10 cents and he just gave it to me. I ran back to the boy and reached though the fence and gave him the money.
"I want another 10 cents and then you can have it."  Said the boy.
And so again I went to my father and once again he just gave me another coin.
And again I ran back to the boy and gave him the coin.
"No, I need another 10 cents."  Said the boy. But this time I felt something was wrong.
"But why?" I asked.
"If you want it then you will get me another 10 cents. Just 10 cents more and its yours." Said the boy.
"OK but then you promise to give to me."  I said.
"Sure sure, just go and get me another 10 cents".
And so I ran back to my father. This time, however, my father wanted to know why I wanted the money. I  told him. My father glanced over to the fence to see the boy standing there.
"OK but this is the last time." Said my father.
I ran back feeling thrilled that now I was going to have the slingshot. When I got to the boy I could not get my hand through the fence fast enough to give him the money. Which I did.
And waited for the boy to keep his promise.
"Another 10 cents and I promise this time it is yours." Said the boy.
I could not believe my ears.
I told the boy that my father would not give me any more money but the boy persisted.
After a minute or so the boy realized that I could not get any more money and then he just ran away.
I went and told my father what had happened and he said:
"Hmm, that was not nice. Let than be a lesson to you Arthur that not everyone is honorable."


A year later my mother died and we returned to the UK.  I was seven and now I was being raised my grandmother.
My grandmother was very old fashioned, as I guess all grandmothers are, and she raised me to believe in traditional values. Actually, they were just solid values that I think most families believe in, and they pretty much mounted up to one thing. 

Be an honorable person and try to live an honorable life.

As I grew I began to learn the hard way that not everyone saw or lived life the same way and honor was something I found lacking in many whom I came in contact with. 

Losing my mother so young was said to have triggered severe asthma in my DNA  and this lead to me being brutally bullied at school. My english dialect was different and I had a weak disposition so I guess I was an easy target.
In those days asthma was rare. My school had 1000 pupils and only two had asthma. Today those statistics would probably be the reverse. It was not until at the age of 14, that I was given this  miraculous drug called, Ventolin. 

This literally changed my life over night.  Suddenly I could run, suddenly I was strong, and so I began to embrace all kinds of sports such as football, gymnastics, tennis and baseball. (Yes we did have small baseball league in the UK)

As well as this I joined a Karate class.
I was fed up of being bullied and decided to do something about it.

Below is me age 14, (on the left) with my two best friends. If my nose looks swollen it was because I was beaten by bullies earlier that day. My friend, Mike, (on the right) wanted to cheer me up by letting me have a go on his skateboard (a new invention at that time)
Paul ( in the center) would often defend me when I was bullied. He was strong because he did weightlifting and  it was he who encouraged me to start a karate class.
He later went on to become a national weight-lifting champion. 

I would say they were both "Honorable" lads.

Never was there a pupil that trained has hard and never was a student so dedicated.
Two years later, at age almost 16, I was the karate kid five years before the film even came out.
I also learned free-style kung fu techniques and began learning how to use a Samuari sword.
Little did I know at that that time that  swords would come to play a major part in my life.

This is me below is me in 1979 - two years after the previous photo.

THREE BULLIES HIT ROUGH
In my last year of school it came out that I had been secretly training in Karate.
My usual tormentors heard about this and one day after school they were waiting for me at the school gates.
I had managed to avoid this gang for a while but now it seemed it was unavoidable.

"Here comes Chuck Norris. "  Said the first of them.

"I prefer Bruce Lee actually."  I replied, somewhat bravely, although I was quite frightened.
These boys had bullied me brutally for years and I had gotten used to it.

"So you think you can fight now do ya?"   Said another one.
I did not reply. The three bullies then surrounded me.

"Let´s just kick the shit out him."  Said the third one. 

However, I was no longer the thin asthmatic weakling of two years ago, and boy did I surprise myself with just how strong I had become. The first bully tried to grab me from behind and I gave him a black eye, the second bully tried to hold my arms and I busted his nose with blood pouring out of it.
The third bully ran off.  
After that I was never bullied in school again. 

Suddenly I was a hero and all my mates urged me to get revenge on all those who had made my school life a misery.
However, I told my my friends that "this would not be honorable".
But I did spend the rest of my school days protecting smaller pupils from bullies.
Note; It would have been useless to tell a teacher of being bullied at that time because the teachers were the biggest bullies themselves.

After l left school I went straight to art college for a two year foundation course and to make ends meet I got a part time job working at a superstore. It was boring work just filling shelves in the late evening but every penny helps when you are a poor student, right.

It was at this superstore that I again encountered another bully. 

I was now going on 18 and had been in regular martial arts training for quite a while, and as such I was not really  someone you should pick a fight with. My martial arts teacher, `Sensei`, taught that a true martial artist does everything they can to avoid conflict. And believe me I lived that philosophy.
One night however, conflict became unavoidable.

This is me (above) at age 18 at the time I was working at the supertore

It was the end of another shift at the store and everyone was in the changing rooms changing out of the stores ridiculous green uniforms.
There was always some banter that went on at this time and often the group "bully" would pick on one particular lad. This lad was the same age as me but what made him a target was his bright ed hair.

Anyway, on this night he was really going hard on this poor lad and it was obvious he was not liking it one bit. I could hear my grandmother´s voice in my head; "It is honorable to help those who are in need."   
Thus I could not stand by and do nothing

"That´s enough now, you have had your playtime, leave him alone now" I said.  
The bully immediately let go of the red headed boy and turned his attention to me.

"What? Who the fck are you. Mind your own fcking business?"  He said, staring hard at me.
The changing room became silent.

"Come on lets just leave it shall we."  I continued, and just tried to carry on getting changed as normal.
I remember feeling really nervous in my stomach.

"I don't really know you Arthur, King Arthur is it, but you just keep your fcking nose out or you will get the same treatment. I will let you off this time because you dont know who I am.
But be warned."   Said the bully showing me a clenched fist.

At that point my art college friend, Mark, intervened. (Note: Mark had got me the job there in the first place, just in case he is reading this)
"Honestly, you don't want to mess with Arthur, he does Karate you know"  Says Mark.
I was not happy about at all. Saying such things to a bully was rather like showing a red fag to a bull.

"Is that so. Well lets see what you have got. Stand back everyone, give us some room"  
Said the bully.
I could not believe how quickly I had got myself into a fight, but at such times a coolness comes over me.
I kind of see it as that perhaps this is my time to die, so I must fight fair and die with honor. 

"OK. But do you mind if I my shirt off first. It is a rather expensive and I would rather it not be torn in the fight"  I said.
This was a ploy to try to avoid fighting.
When I took my shirt off and a slight gasp was heard around the room. With my shirt on perhaps I did not look so big (see above) but with my shirt off my muscles perhaps looked a little intimidating. Actually this was usually enough for bullies to back down. And it worked again.
There was a big silence in the changing room and all the other workers were watching in anticipation to see what the bully would do.

"I was only messing around."  Said the bully.

"Sure, no harm done" I said.
It was all over as fast as it had all started and so I simply carried on getting changed. Anyway, when I bent down to fasten my shoes, the bully decided that this was the perfect opportunity to kick me in the face while I wasnt looking.
But he was wrong, and I saw it coming. This was a classic karate manoeuvre and I reacted instantaneously.
I took hold of his leg and thew him back and over. He actually went in mid the air and then landed hard onto his back. It must have hurt as it was a concrete tiled floor.
He got back up and was clearly flustered. 

I stood in the classic karate "ready" position. Again he backed down.

"That was not very honorable to strike when a person is not looking" I said

"Fck you"   Was his reply, but he was clearly nervous and upset, and I could even see he was holding back tears.
This made me feel bad.
"Come on,  let´s shake hands. I don't won't bad feeling, I mean, we all have to work together right. Lets just put it down to a misunderstanding and move on"  I said offering my hand. But he just looked at me, grabbed hold of his sports bag, and walked out.

Later, the redheaded lad thanked me for helping;
"Jesus Arthur I thought he was going to kick the hell out of you. He is  from my old school and he is known to be a good fighter. The way you handled him, Ive never seen anything like that. He won't let you get away with it though. Just watch your back. Thanks again mate" He said.
That was actually the last time I ever saw that red headed lad...because

....the next day I came into work and I was a little concerned about what this bully might say or do. However, as soon as I walked in, I was told that I had lost my job. The bully had talked with the manager and told him that I was a trouble causer. The manager did not want to hear my side of the story and so fired me. And that was that.
"That was not honorable" I thought to myself

Move ahead some years and I was thrust into the world of sword fencing ( Foil )

I saw a poster advertising a local club and I thought it looked interesting.
It turned out I was an natural due to the fact that I am left handed. Some of the world´s greatest fencers were left handed and this was something to do with left-handed people being good at quick-response sports.



Anyways, I passed all the training certificates in twice the normal time and before a year was out, I was urged by my coach to start to entering into competitions.

The rules are easy.  The first to get five hits on their opponent wins the match.

Modern swords have a wire down the center of the blade and you are plugged in to an elastic wire. 
Your jacket is made of a metal flexible mesh fabric so that when a sword hits you then a light goes on.
The jacket is also bullet proof due to the tremendous speed that players can lung a sword.

Below is my trusted sword that I used in all my competitions - you can see it has a special left-handed grip.
And the red box there is where the electric wire is plugged in.

On my first competition I was really nervous thinking I was going to get eliminated in the first round.
I actually won the bronze medal.
It was one of the greatest thrill of my life at that time when they placed that medal over my head. 

I kept on entering competitions and was having the time of my life. The guys in my club just basically loved the sport and were absolutely honorable people. The club had not had a member for some time who had been competitive enough to enter competitions and so my success meant it was also their success in that it attracted new members.

By the second year of fencing I suddenly found myself in a dilemma.
In order to become more advanced I needed to fence more advanced fencers.
There was no one in my club who could even get more than one hit on me and this meant my time at the club was used to teach new beginners rather than training.

At one of the competitions I was approached by a coach of a bigger club and he asked me to join.
In the world of fencing left-handers are worth gold. He promised to teach me advanced techniques and the opportunity to fence seasoned fencers. This was the only way I would advance and so I said yes.
I went back to my own club and spoke to the coach there and told him of my plans.
"It is not honorable to abandon your club Arthur" He told me.
But I still did it and it was probably the first time in my life I had broken my own code of honor.
I knew it was not right, but I still went ahead and did it.

And so I probably deserved what happened next.

After a few months of being at this new club (I will not mention the name)
I was really starting to advance.
There really was some brilliant fencers there, one was even friends with Bruce Dickinson of the heavy metal rock group Iron Maiden.
Not many know he was a great fencer. I actually fenced him once myself. He beat me fairly easily but I did get a couple of hits on him.
Anyway, one member took a dislike to me. He was the rising star of the club and I guess I threatened his reign.
He came over to me and asked if he could practice against me with me being a left hander.
I agreed.

Well the lad was good, really good and it was a close fight,  but I won.

He then asked for another bout, but this time he changed his sword.
And this time I could hardly get a hit on him. I was literally thrashed.
I did not know what had happened or what had changed. I got beat 5-1.
This guy was smiling ear to ear and I felt demoralized.

A month later came a big competition of national standard where there would be talent spotters for the UK Olympic team. Of course I entered as did the clubs star fencer.
I did really well and went thought the rounds without difficulty.
Then I was drawn in the semi-final against this guy. The club star who had defeated me with this special sword.
Well I thought, game over.
But no, this time I was beating him easily. But then half way though, he said that he felt his sword was faulty and wanted to change it.
At the time I did not know that I had the right to refuse.
The judge looked at me and asked if I was OK with that and I just nodded.
When he came back with his other sword the whole game changed just as before.
I just could not get near him and he was now getting hits on me easily.
I was having to fight out of my skin jut to survive.
But then the judge stopped the fight and asked to see my opponents sword.

"This is an illegal sword. It is bent far too much. You must change it or be disqualified."
Said the judge
And so he changed back to is first sword.
Now we were both at 4-4 and the next hit would win the match and would a least go home with a medal.
However, I was so exhausted I could hardly muster any speed. An so he won.
He got the bronze medal and I finished fourth.
(see the newspaper cutting below)

Later I did some investigation with the coach and told of what had happened.
He explained that this was an old cheating trick where you bend the sword so much so that it looks like bow.
This makes it very difficult to parry (block an attack) as the sword basically bends around the opponents sword.
It works in sport fencing but if it had been in real life fencing then such a sword would be useless.

"So basically my own team mate cheated against me" I said

"If you agreed to the sword then the result stands. We have warned him about doing this but he is not good against left-handers and so sometimes he resorts to using this cheat and hopes to get away with it"  Explained the coach.

I went over to this "star fencer" and told him straight to his face;
"What you did was not honorable"

"Honor is for losers. No one ever remembers what happens , history only remembers the result.
Learn to live with it"  He Said

"That may be so, but when you an old man and live alone in your house, and look at that medal, deep down you will know it has no meaning because you had to cheat to get it."
I replied 

I never went back to that club again. 

I never fenced for three months after that until my mate urged me to go back to my old club.
And so one wednesday night I went along.
Everyone welcomed me back with open arms and I was treated like a hero.
This did not help my conscience lol!
I continued going along for some weeks and started teaching new students again and for a while it was good. But to be honest my heart had gone out of the sport.
I learned that cheating in the sport had become rife and this just disgusted me to the bone.
Finally, my coach told me that I should enter the Olden Mens Championship and this might help spark the fire so to speak. I as reluctant but in the end I decided to go.

THE LAST DUEL

I did not know at the time but this would be the last time I would ever use a sword.
I was actually amazed how good form I was in. 

For some reason all thoughts of winning or losing went out of my head.
This time I will just enjoy myself.
I had joined the sport to have fun and somewhere along the way I had forgotten that.
So to hell with winning, I am just going have the time of my life I thought to myself.

I had never fenced better and was on fire.
And then something strange happened. 

I was fencing this guy in the quarter finals and he was not really on my level at all.
But there was something about the guy that I liked.
So I thought I would not just defeat him quickly, I will play the match out a little and let him hit me a few times so he would not be not demoralized.
But then when I felt his sword hit me but the `score light `did not go on.
I stopped the match and told the judge that I think the sword was faulty and that the hit should be given to my opponent. They tested the sword but the light came on fine, however I insisted the point be given against me.

The judge looked at me like I was insane:
" Are you saying you want the point to go against you" He said.
I nodded.
This happened three times and three times I insisted that the point be awarded against me.
I won the match by one point and at the end my opponent shoot my hand and said;
"My good man, it was an honor to be defeated by an honorable opponent"  He said.

Little did I know, but by doing that I was denied the gold medal.
As it turned out it was a tie and when that happens the number of hits are added up and one who has the least hits against them is declared the winner.
I missed out the gold medal by one hit lol.
Indeed, I had to laugh about it.
But later when it was time to give out the medals something miraculous happened.

When they called out my name the whole stadium erupted.
People stood on their seats and cheered and cheered for ages. It was as though I was the winner. I was baffled.
"What is going on" I asked the pretty girl who was now putting the silver medal over my head.

"Dont you know?
It has gone around the whole stadium of what you did.
Today Arthur, in this championship, you brought honor back to the sport".  She told.
And then she gave me a kiss on the cheek and told that she wanted me to win.
I later had a drink with that girl at the University bar. 

Below is the newspaper cutting of the event.


I never fenced ever again.

(below : the medal with the ribbon is the one from that very championship.


All this happened 27 years ago.
And now I am older, I can look at that medal
and know I won it fair and square.
And it might be true that I never managed to win gold,
but I can tell you truly that to me this medal is priceless .

For it is not a symbol of winning or losing,
but a symbol that on that day,
I once again became an honorable man.

Thank you for reading and thank you for visiting.
Welcome back next time.
But before you go have a look at a left-hander in action.
See below

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"An honorable person is someone who believes in truth and doing the right thing - and tries to live up to those high principles." - Oxford  Dictionary