“Let me not then die ingloriously and without a struggle, but let me first do some great thing that shall be told among men hereafter.”
-Homer
If I do not tell you who I am, I am another fellow warrior. War is my life, my god, my hero. War is all I know. I seek to emulate the virtues of war and to find it within myself, I who is yet a mortal. And within my years I seek to discover the wisdom of waging war. My time in this world may be short, but the meaning of my life will last forever.
War is all I know. As for now, you need not know my name. But I will tell you this. I was a warrior. I am a warrior. But my city was defeated, pillaged, put to the sword, and razed down to the last pebble. But I lived, as did the rest of my order. Of this order, I am now the Chief Magistrate. My order is not a true priesthood. Whatever others might say. We are the Disciples of Ares, Lord of War. We are not like those priests who cannot defend themselves. We are warrior-priests, and all of our initiates learn from the age of seven not to show pain or to beg for mercy. Our initiates are inured to pain. We know no fear. Weakness is not acceptable. Ww beat is out of them. And what do we stand for? Strength, learning, virtue, and courage. We seek to create the ideal warrior, the one that is both wise and strong. We are not only warriors, but also teachers. Where did the Spartans learn the system of the agoge, if not from us? Where did the Spartan values come, if not for us? And where would Epiminondas have learned his art, if not from us? Why did my order spread the art of war? So that the virtues of war, mentioned my Achilles in Homer’s Illiad, would become fully recognized. It is our charge, given to us by our lord, to advance in everywhere, the art of war.
But how now are we deposed of our home? It seems that some politicians had made way for the enemy to take the city at night, through some weak point in the walls. We were residing at Thebes, before the army of Alexander swept through and defeated the warriors of the city. My order knew that we would not win this fight if we tried. It was time to leave Thebes. We, a force numbering three-hundred, departed the city in full-arms, storming through whatever forces lay in our way. The last of the Sacred Band we took with us, and so our numbers swelled to about 400. We made a break, and we were out of Thebes. But where to now? Now that we were out of Thebes, we would not be risking massacre, because only the people of the city were being killed. Perhaps it was time to stop wandering and to take a stand for our goal. We would take Persia. Alexander would lead us there.
A month later, we embarked upon a campaign to shatter Darius’ grip on Persia and to take the empire for Greece. Revenge for the burning of Athens and the tragedy at Thermopylae. The Disciples of Ares, now with the Sacred Band part of it, was now the most prominent force of all of the Companions. We showed our valor at Issus, by leading the assault upon the enemy. Now, we marched at the fore. We would raze Persepolis and we would claim the fabled treasury of Babylon and Susa for ourselves. We would bathe in gold, and sleep on beds of silk. We were the army of the Lion! Who would stop us? Many people in fact. There were a few factors that we had not anticipated. Scythed chariots and war elephants were two major sources of tension. And then there were the Immortals, the Ten Thousand. And then, we knew of course the number of subjectts that the King of Kings ruled. Scythed chariots could slice through a line like a knife through cloth. Elephants were massive, and it was very hard to severely maim one, let alone kill one. In a rage, it could pretty much go around stomping and crushing warriors. And the Immortals wereThere were places mentioned like India, Bactria, Parthia, Sogdiana, Margiana, Egypt, and many others. Were we to face different styles than anticipated? The Disciples of Ares was a Greek order, so we knew only the battle tactics of our homeland. There were rumors of lands as far away as Italy where a new power was brewing, amd where battle tactics were similar to ours, but modified. There were rumors of horseback archers with arrows dipped in poison, so that even a scratch would be lethal. For the first time, Phobos, fear, settled into the hearts of the Macedonians. And there were many other gods and religions. We heard that in Egypt, there were deites like Horus and Set, known as the gods of war and chaos, respectfully. Horus, god of war. Like our own Ares. I wanted to speak to the head priest of this cult. But now was not the time to dwell on these thoughts. We were already at Gaugamela, our chosen site for the decisive battle. The army of Darius would be huge in comparison to our relatively smaller force. How would we hold up against chariots and elephants? As always, Alexander was an innovative thinker, something that the world lacks. In fact, he even set up our attack position differently. Instead of the usual head-on charge, we were going in an echelon formation. It wasn’t even clear to me that he was going to charge next with his lesser cavalry. A genius! He understood people as well as general warfare. He was charging Parmenio to hold his position while he was going to break the enemy formation apart. I was learning from this man. I myself was in the fore, slashing and hacking away with my xiphos. I knew not what was happening. My own spear had already been shattered, so I grabbed another one from a fallen warrior and kept on jabbing. When I sounded the eventual retreat for my Disciples to rest, I saw what I had become during the battle. Before the battle, I had polished the armor to the like of a mirror, and we had all waxed our spears. Now, I was stained crimson all over, with my spear threatening to snap at any given moment. Its rough surface splintered into many different fragments. I cast it away. Now was the time for more dirty work. I put away my xiphos and instead took up a kopis from a cavalyman. This weapon was once a butcher’s tool, before it was adapted to become the cavalry weapon. It could cut through armor and flesh just as well as pig meat. I charged forwards once more, and I was confromted with a chariot charging straight torwards me. I had moments left to live before the horses’ hooves trampled me or before the scythed axles shredded me. I ordered a mousetrap system. Contrary to popular belief, it was not Alexander who created it. It was I, Disciple of Ares, Lord of War. We parted way to allow the chariot to enter the mousetrap, then converged upon the crew in a flurry of attacks, hacking and stabbing at will. Then we moved on. Then the next wave came. I didn’t need to look up, even though I did. The thunder that came from the pounding of the feet were enough to make the ground shake. A line of elephants was advancing. I ordered spears to be readied. We were going to aim straight for the eyes, the most sensitive part of the elephant. Once those were damaged, we were hoping that the pain and fear would overcome fury. We were right. They stampeded back, crashing into the Persian lines. But the game was not yet over. The Immortals were coming. We watched as our phalanx engaged them in combat. The wicker shields of the Immortals were no match for the heavy oak and bronze of our heavy infantry. All the enemy ever knew and fought with were archers, calvary, and skirmishers. There was no heavy infantry, the backbone of an army. But yet, this strategy had served the Persians well in conquering all of their neighbors. Perhaps it was what we would need to adapt to later. But it was of no consequence. Our spears could outreach theirs by many feet. Our spears tore through the wicker with ease. And our swords tore through the unarmored Persians with savage delight, seeking out the soft flest to sate the bloodthirst. And so even as we held off the main army, Alexander broke through and wreaked havoc upon the enemy lines. Darius himself fled. Alexander pursued him not, coming back to rout the rest of the Persians. We had still been sorely oppressed by the sheer weight of numbers. We were victorius at Gaugamela. Darius was broken. Persia was ours. But I do not care, for war is all I know.
If I do not tell you who I am, I am another fellow warrior. War is my life, my god, my hero. War is all I know. I seek to emulate the virtues of war and to find it within myself, I who is yet a mortal. And within my years I seek to discover the wisdom of waging war. My time in this world may be short, but the meaning of my life will last forever.
