Adam Gabbatt spends a Saturday inside the ‘blood helm’ with the New York Sentinels, a group that gathers weekly to fight each other in suits of armour

Come on, hit me: fighting for fun in 70lbs of steel with Armored Combat League

It is 10am on a Sunday and a man is hitting me on the head with a sword.

It could be worse. At least I’m wearing a helmet. Although the helmet I’m wearing is named “blood helm”. That is because so many people have shed blood in it.

The New York Sentinels, a gang of people who gather weekly to fight each other in full suits of armour, invited me to fight at their base in Harlem. I presumed they would take it easy on me. I was wrong. My opponent, Sam, is dishing out a merciless pummelling.

“Come on, hit me!” he shouts. With some difficulty – my armour weighs around 70lbs – I swing my two-handed axe. He deflects the blow with his shield and strikes me flush on the helmet. I begin to wonder if I’ve chosen the wrong weapon.

Damion DiGrazia, who teaches armoured combat to newcomers, is watching from the sidelines.

“You’re a soccer player! Kick him! Kick him!” he urges. I kick Sam – a towering thrash metal musician with long hair and tattoos – in the shin. I’m wearing sneakers. His legs are covered in steel plates. It’s like kicking a lamppost.

The Sentinels fight in the Armored Combat League, which is made up of teams across the US. They do it for fun. I am doing it because I wanted to wear armour. I didn’t realise I would have to properly fight.

The teams meet up regularly to fight one another, battling one on one or taking part in “melée”: when two rival squads charge towards one another and fight to the death. To the death, or until all the members of one team have been knocked to the ground.

There are even international competitions. Some of the Sentinels have fought in Spain and Poland.

Sam is continuing his assault. It is hard to see out of my 14th century-style steel helmet, but from the repeated thuds about my head, body and legs I gather I am losing the fight.

It is also hard to breathe inside the helmet, which has been buckled onto my head. I feel like the man in the iron mask. Except the alleged older brother of Louis XIV never had to fight someone with an axe.

Facebook Twitter Pinterest Morgan Neyland straps Adam Gabbatt into the ‘blood helm’ – named for the amount of blood that has been shed in it. Photograph: Laurence Mathieu-Léger/The Guardian

“The first time I saw people doing it, I knew I had to do it too,” Sam says, after the thrashing. “These guys came out in armour and started beating the stuffing out of each other with axes and swords.

“I was like: ‘I don’t know what that is, but I am doing it.’”

Combatants’ suits of armour can cost up to $10,000. They have to be made to strict medieval standards, based on a 50-year range within a specific period, usually some time in the 1300s. The steel plates cover almost every part of the body. There is even a goth-style dog collar which protects the neck and collarbones.

That said, injuries do still occur. Cuts to the head are common, DiGrazia says. As are broken collarbones, hyperextensions of limbs, and even chopped-off fingertips. The swords and axes are blunted, but you wouldn’t want someone hacking away at your bare flesh.

Despite the obvious dangers, the number of people taking part is “growing strongly every year”, according to DiGrazia – who works as a management consultant when he is not pounding men about the body and face. “Though there’s still an exponential amount of growth necessary for it to become a mainstream thing.”

My duel with Sam ends when I yield under a flurry of sword strokes. I am puffing and panting. Inside the helmet it is claustrophobic. There are no serious injuries on either side.

The next day, however, I do notice a couple of bruises. One is on my hip, caused by a blow from Sam’s sword. The other is on my chest. It was caused by a button that dug into me when my armour was being strapped on. I don’t think I am cut out for armed combat.