Resurrecting Primus: Bronze in Italy and the Best Year of My Life

By Dom Spens – Birmingham Medieval Combat, Primus, UK National Team Fighter

Italy wasn’t the end of my buhurt season, but it was the most meaningful.

Torneo delle Alpi marked my fourth international, the first time I earned a podium position, my first captaincy, my third-ever medal, and my first team cup.

There was no UK team going to Volpiano, Italy, but I wasn’t content to sit the event out. So I acted: I organised a mixed UK squad, and we chose to fight under the old and respected banner of Primus.

The Resurrection of Primus

Primus exists as a neutral UK team, allowing fighters from any UK club to compete internationally under one banner. It isn’t tied to a single club or hierarchy.

Any registered fighter with suitable kit and a passport can join a Primus squad for an international event. If your home team isn’t attending a tournament and you still want to go — Primus gives you that opportunity.

And furthermore, if your team isn’t going and no Primus squad is being formed for an event you’re determined to attend, you can step up and be the captain — provided you’re willing to put in the organisational work before and during the tournament. It’s a significant responsibility, but wholly rewarding. I hope I get another chance to do it in 2026.

I normally fight for Birmingham Medieval Combat, but for Torneo delle Alpi, fighters from Gloucester, Invicta, White Company, and Northern Wolves answered my call to arms.

Being so close to the end of the year and between other major tournaments, I couldn’t find an eighth UK fighter to commit to Italy. (This is something we aim to fix in 2026 with more structured Primus coordination, ensuring a UK presence at every European BI event.)

With one spot open, we welcomed Петьр Владов (Peter Vladov), a teamless Bulgarian fighter, into the Primus squad for this tournament.

I handled the coordination and organisation leading up to the event and took on the captaincy role. I transported much of the kit myself, driving from the Claregalway tournament in Ireland through Ireland, England, France, Switzerland, and finally to Italy — my battlewagon clocking more than 15,000 miles this season. The rest of the team flew in.

Leading Primus: The Honour, The Weight, The Work

Captaining Primus at Torneo delle Alpi was one of the greatest honours of my three years in buhurt. Men from across the UK — many of them better fighters than me — trusted me to lead them into battle under a resurrected Primus banner. That respect is something I never take lightly.

Being captain isn’t just walking into the lyst first; it starts long before that. The logistics, transport plans, shared kit, team selection, relaying information between organisers and fighters, flight coordination, accommodation checks, and pre-event briefings — all of it sits on your shoulders.

Then you get to the tournament, in this case Italy, and it shifts again: bureaucracy, paperwork, roster confirmations, weapons and armour checks, and making sure everyone has what they need before the first fight of the day.

Once the fighting starts, the role becomes something else entirely. You make the tactical calls. You choose the positions. You monitor injuries. You sub fighters in and out, trying to place the strongest lineup where and when it’s needed, while still ensuring everyone gets a good fight. You run welfare checks between rounds. You watch how your lads are breathing, how they’re moving, whether they’re taking on enough water, who’s tiring, who’s fired up, and who needs a word in their ear.

Between fights, you break everything down — what worked, what failed, what needs adjusting for the next round. You give praise where it’s earned. You apologise when you’ve made the wrong call. You push someone when they need pushing. And when a marshal misses an incident, you’re the one who steps forward to challenge it. (Nothing major at this event, but I was ready if needed.)

It is pressure, pride, and complete focus — and I loved every second of it. Standing with that team, calling the charge, seeing fighters from across the country move as one, and earning my first international podium — bronze — as their captain is something I’ll carry for the rest of my life.

The camaraderie, the responsibility, the trust, and the shared drive for something bigger than any individual fighter… that’s what made leading Primus one of the defining moments of my buhurt career. (So far.)

Fight 1: Les Vassaux de Provence (France)

R1: The lads dominated early and secured a clean win.

R2: I grappled too long, broke free, dropped my opponent with a head rip, and then tried to help Pioter in a hold — “hurt > helped” — taking both of us down. Still a win.

Fight 2: Basilisk (Italy)

R1: Another strong round and a comfortable win.

R2: A chaotic start. I fumbled the first sloppy grapple, recovered control, and after a flurry of headbutts and knees, put my man down. Then, once again, a poorly executed assist — “hurt > helped” — took both an opponent and a teammate out. Still a win overall.

Fight 3: Italian Bastards (Italy + 1 Scot)

R1: A hard grind, but solid coordination earned us a 3:1 win.

R2: I sat out, and the lads pushed through another tough round to finish 3:1 again for the overall victory.

Fight 4: Sword Gym München (Germany)

R1: We ran in hard. I locked up my opponent and annoyingly went down with him. The team fought on and secured the win.

R2: Clean and dominant — Primus overwhelmed them for a 4:1 finish.

Fight 5: La Confrérie des Loups (France)

R1: Our first loss. Too many isolated 1v1s, not enough cohesion, and we were overpowered.

R2: Same pattern, same result — outmatched by a more cohesive team.

Fight 6: Icarus (Italy)

R1: My worst beating of the tournament. Outnumbered after a dynamic start, held while a halberdier worked me over. My shield was defaced by repeated poleaxe strikes before I dropped. The lads fought on but were overrun.

R2: The team pushed hard, but Icarus’s coordination closed it out. Loss.

Final Result: 3rd place — Bronze. My third medal, my first cup, and my first taste of international success.

Italy, and the Quiet Part of the Story

Italy carried a weight for me that went beyond fighting. Alongside my commitment to the sport, my year was shaped by something that began quietly and unexpectedly — a connection sparked in Hungary at the World Championships, when a single glance across the lysts lingered. Lightning. Even though we barely spoke, something unmistakable was set in motion.

Germany at Way of Honour turned that spark into something real. A conversation, a moment, and a decision neither of us walked away from. From that point on, every journey seemed to lead in the same direction — across borders and to tournaments I might never have considered otherwise.

Ireland for the kit run, Italy for the team I pulled together, the miles driven, the risks taken, the choices made — all of it was pushed forward by that connection. It changed how I saw the year. It changed what I wanted from the sport and from life. And although I won’t spell out details, it’s fair to say that the meaning of this season wasn’t measured only in fights or medals. It came from the way buhurt threads people together across countries, languages, and battle-lines.

Italy was meaningful because it was where everything converged: the travel, the fights, the decisions, the trust, the pride, the future. It proved to me that this sport isn’t only about armour and impact — it’s about the people who walk into the fire with you, and the ones who wait for you outside of it.

Buhurt is love. In every sense. And this year made that impossible to deny.

Training and Fighting Across the UK and Beyond

This year, I’ve had the privilege of training all over the UK: with Birmingham, Gloucester, Bristol (Isca), Northern Wolves, Norwich, Cambridge (East Anglia Alliance), and White Company. Every session, every environment, every coach, every sparring partner added something new.

Each club has its own style, its own culture, and its own rhythm of fighting. Learning from all of them changed how I move, how I think, and how I fight. I highly recommend — and challenge — every fighter to branch out next season and train with at least one other club. Buhurt is love; every team will welcome you on the training floor, and you’ll learn far more than you expect. I promise the longer drive is worth it.

I’ve also been lucky enough to fight across Europe: first in Hungary, representing Team UK at the World Championships; then in Germany at Way of Honour with White Company 2; then in Ireland with Northern Wolves; and finally in Italy, leading the reborn Primus squad to the podium. Training and competing with different teams has been the best education I could have asked for.

For anyone serious about improving in this sport: go. Travel. Fight for other teams. See how they do things. It’s humbling, it’s eye-opening, and it’s absolutely worth it.

BMC Vanguard Climb

Back home, Birmingham Medieval Combat finished 5th in the UK league this year — our highest-ever position (8th last year). That result represents the grind we’ve put in as a squad: learning through every loss and taking pride in what we’ve built. Even after losing our venue at the beginning of the year, we persevered. We don’t have the numbers or resources of some of the bigger clubs, but what we have in drive, commitment, and camaraderie more than makes up for it. I’m proud of what we achieved this year.

It’s going to be a very different season next year in the UK buhurt scene. With some of the old guard hinting at retirement from the lyst, new teams forming, and fresh talent rising, the podium — and even the mid-table — could genuinely be anyone’s for the taking. It will be a challenge to maintain or beat our 5th place, especially with our Norwich fighters abandoning us to form East Anglia Alliance with Cambridge (splitters!).

Looking Ahead

The beginning of the year, being selected for the UK team roster for the world championships, at my age, prompted me to fully dedicate myself to this crazy sport, to be a yes man, to fight in every opportunity, to push myself outside my comfort zone, to ignore my naturally shy awkwardness and social anxiety to go to trainings, learn from better fighters, travel the distance, strive to fight and do better every time... And it clearly paid off; giving me the best year of my life!

Next year, I’m aiming for more. More internationals, more challenges, and more chances to stand shoulder-to-shoulder with good fighters from home and abroad. Every mile driven, every bruise collected, every new face met on the road is part of what makes this sport unlike any other. It’s brutal, exhausting, and beautiful all at once- and I wouldn’t trade it for anything. Buhurt is Love.

Got this far and you’re still not a buhurt fighter?

Find your nearest club in Great Britain HERE

And get to training, your club can help you get started in this crazy rewarding sport.

Dom Spens has been fighting buhurt for three years, representing Birmingham Medieval Combat domestically and Team UK internationally at the World Championships in Hungary. In 2025, he trained and competed across Europe, culminating in a bronze medal and team cup at Torneo delle Alpi in Italy, where he served as event captain for the resurrected Primus UK squad.

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Editorial Aleksandra Lebdowicz

Photos provided by the author