Disqualify us at your peril: Revealed] Olympic judges attacked by angry competitors.

What is glory, what ignominy? For Khalid Skah in the 10,000 metres in Barcelona, it changed from one day to the next as he won, was disqualified and then reinstated. How different from the Paris Olympic Games in 1924: there, as this account written by Brigadier-General R J Kentish tells, infamy was spotted and punished, and so was the referee

Scene: time: place: the final of the world's amateur fencing championships during the Olympic Games, Paris, 1924. Dramatis personae: A Hungarian referee named Kovacs and his judges; Pulitti, an Italian and the greatest swordsman of the day, and his colleagues and hundreds of their fellow countrymen and women; and some members, including myself, of the International Olympic Committee.

The story: Before telling of the particular incident which forms the subject of my story, I must carry my readers back for a moment to the Sixth Olympiad held in Antwerp in 1920, when Italy was in the throes of her industrial and other troubles, and Mussolini had yet to assume power.

The Italian team that came to Antwerp - I was commandant of the British team at the time - was composed of a mere handful, not more than 20 or 30 at the outside, of athletes, indifferently trained, ill-disciplined, badly clothed and with no one to look after them. They were just a mere rabble]

Then the 'great' man arrived on the scene, and the whole situation changed, and changed in a very remarkable manner, for at the next Olympiad, which was held in Paris four years later, and when I was again commandant of the British team, we saw an Italian team as powerful and as strong in numbers as the team of any other great nation, perfectly trained, uniformly dressed, and, as they filed past the French President on the opening day, marching proudly, the whole team giving the Fascist salute as one man - a most impressive sight and in great contrast to their miserable appearance four years previously.

For those who do not understand how the Olympic fencing championships are decided, I must explain that each country is permitted to enter its three best men and the whole is then divided into groups, or 'pools'. In each 'pool' each competitor fights every other competitor, and then either two or, at the outside, three are taken for the final 'pool'. The competitor winning the greatest number of fights in this final 'pool' is adjudged the champion.

It is, therefore, essential that every competitor should fight his hardest and try to win each bout, whether he be facing a compatriot or a competitor of another nation.

On the occasion in question, the three Italians - with Pulitti, the greatest swordsman the modern world had ever seen, at their head - all reached the final 'pool'. This was a remarkable achievement in itself, for it meant that Italy could claim to possess three out of the first eight living swordsmen.

The combats commenced; the first two called out to fight being the great Pulitti himself and, quite by chance, one of the other two Italians. Directly, Kovacs, the referee, of whom more anon, said 'En Garde' and then 'Jouez'. Pulitti, attacking quickly, scored a hit on his opponent, the latter making little or no effort to defend himself. Brought on guard again, and given the word 'Jouez', exactly the same thing happened, and also again when they faced each other for the third and final bout, each combat being for the best of five hits.

The referee, feeling himself that the fight had been 'squared', called his judges around him and asked them their opinions. Finding they were of the same opinion, and telling them to watch very carefully when Pulitti met the other Italian, the fights continued.

A little later they met and Pulitti again won with the greatest ease, his opponent not offering the slightest resistance.

Kovacs at once consulted his judges, and all agreeing that this fight, too, had been 'squared', he summoned Pulitti and his colleagues in to the ring and disqualified them all, telling them the reason why.

The scene that followed baffles description. Throwing their masks and foils to the ground, Pulitti and his colleagues tried to assault Kovacs and were only with great difficulty restrained from doing so. Their friends, who had come in their hundreds to see their champion carry off the honours, just went mad, screaming and shouting and abusing Kovacs and his judges and everybody and everything to do with the Games. It was a most disgraceful scene and continued for some time until, persuaded to do so by one or two of their less excitable officials, to everybody's relief, the whole of them marched out of the hall, and we hoped we had seen and heard the last of the Italians for a very long time]

But alas] the sequel will show this was not to be. Returning late that night to my hotel, I found a message from Major Berdez, the secretary of the IOC, telling me that a meeting of the Jury d'Honneur, of which I was a member, had been called for the following morning at 10 o'clock to inquire into a very serious matter.

I arrived at the offices of the IOC and found the president and members already assembled. Directly I was seated and the president informed us of the reason he had called us together. He said that late the night before, Kovacs had rung up Major Berdez and told him that he and his Hungarian friends, who were returning to Hungary early the next day, had gone to Folies Bergere to enjoy themselves on their last night in Paris. During the interval they were having a drink together at the bar when suddenly Pulitti appeared - nobody knew where he had sprung from - and going straight up to Kovaks had smacked his face first one side and then the other, and before he could do or say anything Pulitti had disappeared into the crowd]

'Kovacs,' said the president, 'of course, was furious and told Berdez that his honour was at stake, and that the only course open to him was to challenge Pulitti to a duel. But I saw Kovacs early this morning myself, before he left Paris, and I have persuaded him not to take any action, but to leave the matter and his honour in our hands. Those are the facts, gentlemen, and it is for you to decide what action the Jury d'Honneur shall take.'

After full consideration of the case, and from every point of view, we decided to expel Pulitti and his colleagues from the Games for ever, and this decision we communicated to the Italian Olympic Committee, but it was not the end of the incident, for, travelling back on the same train, which took Kovacs and his friends to Hungary, was Pulitti and his friends and, on arrival at Turin, where everybody had to change, the rival parties apparently bumped right into each other and Pulitti, being on his native soil and therefore, I suppose, feeling more aggressive than ever, went up to Kovacs and repeated his performance of the night before]

This time no 'jury of honour' in the world could have prevented a duel - we certainly did not attempt to - and a week or two later the two met, this time with duelling swords in their hands, on the outskirts of a small village just over the Hungarian frontier.

Again was heard the warning cry from the referee: 'En garde', followed by 'Jouez', and Pulitti, attacking at once, wounded his opponent in the arm, and the wound drawing blood, honour was satisfied and the referee stopped the fight.

Kovacs had his wound dressed and then the two embraced first each other and then the referee in the approved Continental manner and the incident closed, both parting the best of friends, and Kovacs promising to do everything possible to get the Jury d'Honneur to remove its ban on Pulitti. 'Vive le sport]' 'Vive les Jeux Olympiques]' 'Vive tout le monde]'

(Photographs omitted)