An expectant hush descends as the line of 20 armor-clad samurai, their clan banners flapping in the stiff breeze, take up position in the clearing. With skilled precision they load their matchlocks and, on a given command, raise them and fire. The sound reverberates around the surrounding hills as the warriors begin reloading.

Not, as it may seem, a scene from a Kurosawa movie -- but just one of the spectacles that can be witnessed live (ammunition excepted) at the 38th Nagashino Nobori Matsuri (Banner Festival) taking place in Aichi Prefecture on Monday, May 5.

Staged as the culmination of a series of Golden Week events, the festival is not only steeped in tradition, but also positively oozes history, its purpose being to commemorate the kassen (decisive battle) of Nagashino on May 21, 1575, on the very site where the castle then under attack once stood -- though the main engagement that day 428 years ago was actually 2 km away at Shitarabara, in what is now neighboring Shinshiro City.

For most of those who seek out this offbeat spectacle held a little off the beaten track, the fun starts at the former castle's sleepy, eponymous station, from where nobori (16th-century-style battle banners) mark the way to the vibrant arena. Here, the usual encampment of refreshment and souvenir stalls is tactically well-positioned at the entrance, adjacent to the small Nagashino Castle Preservation Hall. Built in 1964, this holds a collection that helps to set the scene, while a bilingual booklet available from reception fills in some basic details about both the exhibits and the historical events.

From this we learn that the protagonists in this epoch-making encounter during the so-called Warring States Period were the 38,000 soldiers of an alliance between two of the unifying fathers of modern Japan, Oda Nobunaga and Tokugawa Ieyasu, against a force of some 15,000 troops under the command of Takeda Katsuyori.

Takeda's army had surrounded Nagashino Castle, from where one Torii Suneemon was sent to fetch alliance help -- firing a rocket from Mount Kanbo, which overlooks the castle, to signal his successful escape. Unfortunately for him, Torii decided to return to the castle after delivering his message, only to be captured on the way and executed by crucifixion. His name lives on, though, as he is remembered in a shrine near Torii rail station.

In the battle that followed, however, the alliance's superior numbers and tactics -- and its effective first use of guns in Japan since their introduction by the Portuguese 32 years before -- dealt a crushing defeat to the feared and renowned Takeda cavalry.

While the festival was ostensibly begun "to comfort the spirits" of the fallen, there's little reverence in the gunpowder-smelling air as the colors and commotion -- not to mention the drinks-sellers -- foster a full-on festival feeling amid beautiful surroundings where once so much blood was spilled.

As the gunnery demonstrations are repeated, there's also plenty of time to explore the wooded terrain and take in some of the area's panoramic views. The latter may well include the promontory in the fork of two rivers where the castle stood, which can be viewed to good advantage from the Ushibuchi Bridge on the way to Tobigasu Hill, where a memorial service to the fallen is followed by a smoke signal -- in honor of Torii Suneemon -- to formally open proceedings.

Prior to this, a procession from the town hall comes into the arena, which slowly fills with serried ranks of participants in period costume, some of the "warriors" also resplendent with sashimono (identification flags with inspirational slogans) slotted into holders on their backs.

This is followed by demonstrations of swordsmanship and taiko war-drumming by both men and women, before the first of two 90-minute displays by historical gun associations firing harquebus and matchlock rifles. These not only provide a sense of the awful reality of the battle, but also the tactics used, such as firing through bamboo babosaku -- which in today's acronymic military parlance would likely be termed ACPDs (anti-cavalry palisade defenses). Clouds of smoke dramatically drift around the arena after the volleys, which leave a ringing in the ears as the only temporary side effect -- unlike in the real battle, when some 10,000 Takeda men and 6,000 from the alliance were killed.

If that (understandably) sends a chill down your spine, then after a hard day on the mock battlefield you may care to nurse your wounds at the nearby onsen at Akihiki. Alternatively, Chiiwa Gorge and the seven-stepped Atera waterfalls are easily accessible by bicycle or car -- or you may just head home instead, and start editing all that video footage into your own Kurosawa epic.