Since I'm a huge fight fan (I was even a wannabe UFC/MMA fighter from high school until a few years ago), I picture this process (where each side in a pitched battle would basically make an on-the-spot gentleman's agreement to break off and stop fighting in order to take a little time to catch their breath) by remembering pretty much every fistfight I've witnessed (well, those that weren't over realy quick or broken up, anyway), whether from when I was a kid, in high school, college, or those I've seen as an adult. They're usually 2 chest pounding idiots swinging wildly at each other, rolling around on the ground, etc, for a maximum of a minute or two before both are obviously so exhausted they can barely lift their arms up and/or look like they might vomit any second.
At this point, it is not uncommon to see two people, in a fist fight, either agree to call it even, and act all buddy buddy (the level of buddy buddyness is inverse to how drunk they are), or to take a break (which is also something that never stops being hilarious) before they make asses out of themselves again for a few minutes.
Now, imagine that you're a hoplite, legionarius, or any other infantryman in ancient or medieval times--you have 30-50 lbs of armor on, it's pretty hot out, you're holding a large, awkwardly shaped shield that probably weighs 5-10 lbs (and an awkward shape or large volume makes something seem like it's oh, I don't know, about A ZILLION TIMES HEAVIER than it really is!), and you and another guy have been hacking away at each other in vain for a good part of 15-20 minutes. Agreeing to a little truce, or maybe even taking a break AND trying to find a weaker dance partner, seems totally plausible...
Bookmarks