THE VIKING WARRIOR

The tactics, equipment, and ferocious might that terrorized the world for over two centuries

Odin could make his enemies in battle blind, or deaf, or terror-struck, and their weapons so blunt that they could no more cut than a willow wand; on the other hand, his men rushed forwards without armor, were as mad as dogs or wolves, bit their shields, and were as strong as bears or wild bulls, and killed people at a blow, but neither fire nor iron told upon themselves. These were called Berserker.

—Snorri Sturluson, Ynglinga Saga

FROM IRELAND TO RUSSIA, PARIS TO Constantinople, and everywhere in between, there was no more terrifying sight than a war band of gigantic Viking marauders clambering over the sides of their longships, crashing down into the ankle-deep surf, and charging forward with their armor shining in the sunlight, their axes and swords raised fearsomely above their heads. Although known by nearly a dozen different names—Northmen, Ashmen, Norsemen, Rus, Danes, Varangians, the Norse, and others—the people we now know as Vikings stood for hundreds of years as a symbol of ruin and destruction throughout the period of European history known as the Dark Ages. They were an unstoppable force that struck paralyzing fear into the hearts of all, from the lowliest peasants to the most heavily armored knights.

Vikings typically weren’t professional warriors and raiders. Ravaging thatched-roof cottages with torches and steel was just something they did as a fun hobby and a way to make some extra cash in the summer. Family men, brothers, fathers, and sons, the Vikings came from all walks of life across Scandinavia—the regions of present-day Norway, Sweden, and Denmark. They embarked on their raiding expeditions for a variety of reasons ranging from glory, adventure, and wealth to the basic boring necessity of putting food on their tables during the long, cold Arctic winters. The only requirement was that each warrior had to provide his own gear.

In the early days of the Viking Age, the Northmen weren’t organized into kingdoms and countries the way we think of them today. Their lands were really just a mishmash of minor dominions, each ruled by a guy known as a jarl. The jarls were responsible for recruiting their own men from their lands and putting together their own raiding parties; they did whatever they felt like without having to report to anyone in particular.

A jarl (sometimes they called themselves kings) would have a small bodyguard of professional warriors known as a hird. A jarl’s hird would be made up of hersir, minor nobles who served him. The hersir would have all the best gear, get the most plunder, and join the jarl on raids and adventures. Below the hersir were freemen—landowners, farmers, and craftsmen. The freemen could join on as Vikings if they wanted, but they were required to serve in the jarl’s levies, meaning that if the jarl was attacked by a rival gang of Viking warriors (something that happened more frequently than you might think), the freemen had to grab their spears and shields and defend their homes. At the bottom of the pecking order were the thralls—the slaves. Thralls had no rights and could be killed or sacrificed at their master’s command, but if they had a good master, there was a chance he’d eventually let them buy or win their freedom. In a pinch, a thrall could be given a weapon and allowed to fight, but most Vikings didn’t trust them enough to let that happen.

Although Viking gear varied wildly depending on how much the warrior was willing to spend on it, the typical Norseman’s primary weapon was a spear. He would carry two—a light javelin for throwing and a heavy spear for stabbing. The javelin had a barbed tip so it would stick into enemy shields, rendering them useless, and it was made of lightweight steel that would bend when it hit something, which prevented the enemy from throwing the warrior’s javelin back at him. The heavy spear was made of ash wood, stood six to eight feet tall, and could be wielded in one hand, leaving the other hand free to hold a shield.

There were also two types of axes—the short axe, which was the perfect size for hiding behind the shield, and the much-feared Danish long axe: a six-foot-long, two-handed battle-axe with a single twelve-inch blade. It could cut through armor, horses, and men alike with one swing, shredding shields and splitting helmets like a chain saw through warm butter. The only downside to this weapon was that a warrior couldn’t carry a shield with it, but the axe made up for it with sheer firepower. On more than one occasion, the Norse sagas refer to Vikings cutting through two and even three enemies with a single swing of the weapon.

Swords were an extraordinarily expensive item carried only by the richest Vikings, and were by far the most treasured weapon in the Viking arsenal. Given cool names like Gold-Hilt, Leg-Biter, and Long-and-Sharp, these doubleedged straight blades were forged of iron, and their hilts were decorated in gold and silver and souped up with protective runes, healing stones, or bone fragments from animals or long-dead heroes. The legendary sword Skofnung, carried by King Hrolf Kraki, was said to be imbued with the spirits of twelve great heroes and would allegedly “sing” when it made contact with the enemy. (I picture this “song” sounding a lot like a guy yelling because he’d just been hit with a sword.)

A long, single-bladed knife called a sax rounded out the Viking arsenal, and it could be used for everything from shanking peasants to eating dinner. Some Vikings also carried bows, but even though all Norsemen could shoot well enough to hunt, they considered arrows a “coward’s weapon” and far preferred to throw spears and rocks at their enemies or kill them face-to-face the old-fashioned way. (It’s worth mentioning, however, that the Norse did have great respect for the Finns, who could ski downhill and accurately shoot arrows at the same time. Let’s face it—that’s cool.)

To defend themselves from their enemies, the Vikings wore armor fashioned from leather, bone, quilted fabric, or animal hide, and a helmet typically of the same material. Hersir warriors could sometimes afford imposing chain mail shirts that weighed in at about twenty-six pounds, as well as those cool-looking metal helmets with the eye and nose protection. But no matter how hard TV might try to convince you, real Viking helmets didn’t have horns on them. That touch was actually added by German opera costumers in the nineteenth century and is totally not legit. You seriously can’t pick up a book about the Vikings without reading in the first twenty pages that there were no horned helmets. (Oh, sweet, it only took me fourteen.)

Finally, Vikings carried a brightly painted round shield made of wood, with a sturdy metal disk in the center to protect their hands. The shields were light and easy to carry and could be worn like a backpack by putting your arms through the leather strips on the back. But they wouldn’t survive more than a few battles before needing to be replaced.

One group of guys who needed to replace their shields more often than everyone else was the terrifying berserkir, a group we know in English as the berserkers. Taking their name from the Norse word for “bear shirts,” berserkers were a small, elite group of vicious, unruly warriors who went into battle completely naked except for a he-man-style loincloth and the pelt of either a wolf or a bear worn over their shoulders like a superhero’s cape. These terrifying fighters howled and growled like animals and got so pumped up before battles that they would bite big chunks out of their shields before they attacked. Part of a mysterious cult dedicated to the god Odin, berserkers would prepare for battle the night before, sitting around a campfire drinking mysterious mushroom-based concoctions and working themselves up into a Super Mario rabid battle frenzy. Believing themselves to be possessed by Odin and the spirits of the animals whose pelts they wore, by the time battle began the next day, the berserkers would be frothing at the mouth like madmen, utterly freaking out anyone who saw them. They would always be the first to charge into battle, with such ferocity that today the phrase “going berserk” comes from these guys. They were almost completely immune to physical pain of any kind, and occasionally they could be found in intense hand-to-hand combat with trees, rocks, and other inanimate objects hours after the actual battle had ended.

Well, that’s something, but most semi-sane Vikings didn’t actually want to encounter the enemy on the field of battle. These guys much preferred smash-and-grab plundering and raiding to out-and-out combat. There was a much smaller chance of being impaled when you were fighting disorganized peasants with pitchforks and rakes than when you were facing heavily armored royal cavalry who were packing lances and shields. When big-time, organized military battles did break out, the Vikings weren’t just a horde of undisciplined wild men—they locked themselves into battle formation using a tactic known as the shield wall. A fairly common strategy in medieval times, the shield wall was basically a big line of guys who would interlock their shields, run at the enemy, and then stab with their spears to break the enemy’s formation. Once the enemy line was broken, a second line of Viking axemen and swordmen would rush into the gap and start swinging for the fences. In large-scale battles, the Vikings lost about as many as they won—which is probably why they tried to avoid them.