KILLER INSTINCT
Lecturing to a group of young U.S. Army Rangers on a field at Fort Meade, Maryland, in May 1942, U.S. Army lieutenant colonel Francois d’Eliscu ordered a trainee to level his rifle and bayonet and charge at him, full bore.
“Come on, boy, like you mean business!” d’Eliscu shouted. His voice was startlingly loud and sharp, especially considering that it came from such an elfin, exotic-looking figure. Just 5 feet 5 and weighing 136 pounds, d’Eliscu was in his mid-40s and had a shiny balding head and finely chiseled features. The “Little Professor,” as some called him, had an intense glare and animated gestures—almost like a French intellectual debating over coffee in a Left Bank cafe. He had several graduate degrees and had taught at prestigious American universities.
But d’Eliscu’s confident stance, with his sinewy arms and shoulders poking out of his shirt, gave a hint that the man of letters was also well-schooled in violent confrontations. His own weapon was a 6-foot length of sash cord.
In close combat, his weapon of choice was a 6-foot length of sash cord.
The trainee lunged at his small target, the bare blade of his bayonet flashing. But d’Eliscu was a blur. Seconds later, the soldier lay flat on this back, trussed and unable to move for fear of strangling himself. D’Eliscu was unharmed, except for a patch of skin that the bayonet had shaved off his elbow as he’d disarmed his assailant.
After releasing the trainee, d’Eliscu continued his lecture. He proceeded to deride American-style boxing, with its rules barring foul blows and breaking clean from a clinch and its technique of striking with the fists. “Sportsmanship!” he snarled. If the men ever faced off against German or Japanese soldiers in close-quarters hand-tohand combat, he told them, there were no rules, and other parts of the body—open palms, elbows, feet—were more effective for striking the vulnerable spots on an enemy’s body. “This—this—this,” d’Eliscu explained, demonstrating a series of strikes. “And he’s ruined.”
And then there was the sash cord, a seemingly innocuous everyday object that in d’Eliscu’s hands could disable or even kill. “His speed and skill seem magical,” wrote R. P. Harriss, a columnist for the Baltimore Evening Sun who was on hand to observe the demonstration. “This to make the victim speechless, this to blind…this to break the neck.”
It was a type
