Conquest of Persia

by Alexander Geiger

  Up to this point, the dispositions were quite conventional. The surprising element was Alexandros’s instruction to Parmenion and Perdikkas to change the alignment of the phalanxes. Instead of standing in a straight line, he wanted the outside units to be sharply echeloned backward, facing almost sideways, rather than straight ahead. As a result of this slight positional change, our line would appear to the Persians across the field even shorter than it actually was, while at the same time greatly enhancing the ability of our infantry to withstand a flanking attack. He also placed strong reserve units of infantry behind the front line and instructed them to face backward, thus protecting the phalanxes against an attack from the rear.

  To conceal this changed alignment from the enemy, Alexandros instructed the various cavalry units, other than the Companion Cavalry, to form a moving screen in front of the line. Once the battle started, he wanted them to do what they could to assist the infantry in standing up against the overwhelming power of the enemy cavalry. The archers and the light-armed troops were also to spread out among the heavy infantry and to help where they could, especially when Dareios initiated his expected onslaught of the chariots.

  The Companion Cavalry was to hide behind the right wing and await its opportunity. The success of the plan hinged on the assumption that the enemy horsemen, including the lightly-armored savage scrappers of the steppes and the dazzling, elite, heavily-armored knights of the Persian Cavalry wouldn’t be able to resist launching flanking attacks against both ends of our line, which would appear extremely vulnerable. As more and more of the enemy cavalry was drawn into these flanking attacks, the center of the Persian line, where some of these units would be stationed at the start of the battle, would become progressively weaker. Then, at just the right moment, the Companion Cavalry would emerge through a gap in our line and hurl itself against the thinned-out center, where Dareios would still be stationed in his large, gaudy chariot. “If we hit them hard enough,” Alexandros assured us, “they’ll crumble, especially because the numbers of Persian cavalry and infantry protecting Dareios will’ve been diminished as they all rush off to join in the destruction of our infantry.”

  The only problem with this plan was that the assault of the Companion Cavalry couldn’t begin too early, before the enemy cavalry had vacated their center, because otherwise they’d simply stay where they were, protecting Dareios, and we’d have no chance of punching through an elite force that outnumbered us at least ten to one. On the other hand, if we waited too long to begin our decisive thrust, the enemy forces would have ample time to surround and annihilate our allied cavalry and our infantry because even our wonderful troops could only resist the weight of the enemy’s overwhelming numbers for a very short stretch of time, after which all the enemy cavalry could turn against the Companion Cavalry and destroy us at their convenience.

  If anyone other than Alexandros had proposed this plan, it would’ve been obvious to all that this was nothing more than a desperate gamble, which had no chance of success. To launch an attack with split-second precision in the maelstrom and tumult of battle seemed less than likely. On top of that, even if all our movements were carried out with the requisite timing, improbable as this was, it wouldn’t change the balance of forces on the battlefield. Sooner or later, the inexorable logic of numbers was bound to tell.

  But no one questioned Alexandros’s plan. On the contrary, after he had issued his orders to the commanders, he rode alongside the marching squadrons and battalions and briefly addressed each unit, repeating the same message over and over again. “What a great day for a battle,” he would call out. “I can’t wait to gut those bastards. Makes no difference how many bastards they’ve got, ‘cause you’ll kill ‘em all before they can touch you. Remember, with me in the lead, we can’t lose. There’s a reason they call us Aniketoi. All the gods are on our side. Trust me, I know. Now, go out there and kill the bastards!” The funny thing was that, even though they had all heard this stuff before and even though the odds against them were demonstrably insuperable, they believed him. They couldn’t wait to secure their place in history.

  In addition to energizing the troops, as Alexandros passed by each company, he quietly mentioned one tactical adjustment to his phalanx commanders. “When the chariots come, just make a lane and let them through. And as they’re flying by, target the horses, not the charioteers. After you get the horses, you can dispose of the charioteers at your leisure.”

  Before we knew it, we were all lined up on Dareios’s manicured battlefield, facing the largest army his empire had ever assembled.

  *******

  Dareios, resplendent in his finest armor, breathed a sigh of relief upon observing the emergence of the vanguard of the pan-Hellenic army from among the hills. He was beginning to worry that Alexandros might’ve decided to decline the set piece battle prepared for him.

  The emperor alighted from his gilt chariot, mounted his silver-covered steed, and rode out, accompanied by a large entourage of commanders, advisors, spear-carriers, and toadies, to address his soldiers. The troops were beginning to sag after standing in the field, under arms, through the night and the following morning. As Dareios made the rounds, addressing the huge contingents supplied by the various nations that comprised the Persian Empire, he spoke in a strong, confident voice. He called upon the divine favor of Mithra, the one deity worshipped, in one form or another, by Persians, Indians, and Parthians, by Zoroastrians, Hindus, and Pagans, by almost all the constituents of his vast host. He reminded his warriors that they were embarked upon a holy war to exterminate these godless invaders who were motivated by nothing more than greed for plunder and who were led by a madman so preoccupied by his lust for power that he was, even at that moment, rushing headlong into the trap set for him by the Persian emperor. He assured them that the gods were on their side and that, before the night fell, they would write another chapter in the glorious history of the Persian Empire.

  When Dareios delivered this inspirational address to his Persian knights, they cheered wildly. When speaking, through a translator, to some of the other national contingents, the reception was somewhat more subdued, either because the soldiers were already tired after their nocturnal vigil or because the soaring eloquence of Dareios’s words lost some of its vigor in translation or because they simply hated being vassals of this strutting peacock.

  After addressing the last of the steppe horsemen, Dareios returned to his chariot and the two armies began a slow, cautious dance toward each other.

  *******

  Neither commander wanted to be the first to sound the trumpets, Dareios because of his innate circumspection and Alexandros because his plan depended on the Persians’ attacking first. Soon, it was high noon and the phalanxes were still maneuvering gingerly, moving more sideways than forward, with the light-armed horsemen riding pell-mell between the lines, defying the enemy to hit them. Eventually, the lines had crept crabwise close to the edge of the area which Dareios’s sappers had cleared in anticipation of battle and the Persian commander could wait no longer, lest he lose the benefit of his carefully leveled ground.

  I sat aboard Pandaros and watched as Dareios launched a well-coordinated, three-pronged attack.[16] The Baktrian cavalry, commanded by Bessos, set off at a breakneck gallop toward the right end of our line. At the same moment, Mazaios, leading his elite Persian cavalry squadrons, attacked our left flank. And straight up the middle came the onslaught of the chariots, followed closely by many more squadrons of Persian cavalry.

  A sense of unreality enveloped the scene. The noise was deafening, with men yelling, singing, and beating their swords against their shields, with trumpets blaring and drums pounding, with horses neighing and priests praying, with boots stamping and hooves trampling, and yet, I thought I could clearly hear, and understand, the orders of the commanders, even those issued in languages I didn’t know. Forests of pikes swayed across my field of view, mounted men floated hypnotically hither and yon, clouds of dust shrouded th
e battlescape, and yet, I could discern and follow the action clearly. I was sure that I, and thousands of my comrades, would die in the next few minutes, and yet, I felt serenely grounded. For the first time in a long while, I could foretell, with a high degree of confidence, what would happen next. Hell of a way to cure a bad case of chronotosis, I thought with wry bemusement.

  Just ahead and to my right, I watched as the Baktrian horsemen attacked and quickly sliced through the light screen of our Paionian and Greek mercenary cavalry, which was supposed to shield from view, but not necessarily protect, our right flank. As they galloped toward our men, the Baktrians unloosed a hailstorm of arrows. Our lightly armored cavalry had no effective defense against this aerial assault. There were way too many arrows to dodge, they carried no shields, and their horses were completely unprotected. And, unlike their Asian counterparts, our horsemen didn’t carry bows and arrows. Therefore, they did the only thing they could, which was to get out of the way of the irresistible tidal wave thundering their way. The Baktrians ignored them, the way a charging bull ignores a swarm of flies.

  As they closed in on Koinos’s phalanx, which constituted the apparent right end of our infantry line, the onrushing Baktrians spread out into a broad fan, while continuing to fire salvos of arrows into the massed foot soldiers. Unlike our cavalry, our infantry carried shields, which they used to protect themselves from the incoming arrows. Also, scattered among them stood a company of Kretan archers who did their best to loft answering volleys of missiles. However, the Baktrians carried composite bows, shaped like figure eights sliced vertically down the middle. These bows easily outranged the Kretan’s conventional bows and just as easily penetrated the shields of our infantry.

  After the arrows did their damage, a couple of thousand Baktrians stopped just short of the shield wall of the phalanx and hurled their javelins into the Macedonian ranks, hoping to finish the job started with their bow barrage. And then, with a loud yell, they urged their steeds against the bristling points of the Macedonian sarissas protruding beyond the shield wall. Seemingly heedless of the injuries being absorbed by their horses, the steppe warriors continued ahead, using the weight of their animals to push back the Macedonian pikes and the Macedonian shields and the Macedonian men wielding them.

  However, the great majority of the Baktrians continued to gallop beyond the end of our line, clearly hoping to outflank our phalanx and hit our men from the side and from behind. It was at this point that they discovered there was another phalanx, this time the elite Silver Shields under Nikanoros’s command, stationed almost at a right angle to Koinos’s phalanx, waiting for precisely that type of flanking attack.

  If the Baktrians were surprised by this unexpected alignment, they forged ahead undaunted. They fired their arrows, followed by javelins, and then unleashed the sheer, brutal mass of ten thousand mounted, screaming, sword-wielding savages.

  Charging into the front ranks of our phalanx, the Baktrians certainly appeared savage. They wore no armor and very little clothing, aside from their characteristic leather leggings. They were larger than the Macedonians – taller, thicker, heavier – and they were sitting on horses, each one of which seemed as big as Boukephalas. They were unkempt, with long scraggly beards and wild flying hair, yet their horsemanship was superb and their aggression murderous. Undoubtedly, their cries and looks alone had sent many an opponent fleeing from the battlefield but, at least for the moment, our Macedonian veterans were holding their ground.

  I turned my attention to our left wing, to see how Parmenion’s men were faring. Their situation appeared to be a mirror image of the charge I was observing in front of me, except that Parmenion had at his disposal all of the Thessalian cavalry, as well as a number of other allied Greek cavalry squadrons. As a result, the opposing cavalry forces were slightly more evenly matched and Mazaios’s Persian cavalry had a much tougher time slicing through than the Baktrians were experiencing. On the other hand, once they did get through, the infantry phalanxes confronting them were not quite as accomplished as the Silver Shields. The pan-Hellenic phalangists comprised a mixture of Macedonian raw recruits and Achaian, Boiotian, Phokian, and other Greek mercenaries but they resisted the Persian assault with a resolve befitting men fighting for their lives.

  A sudden uproar erupted in the middle of the field. Chariots were flying toward the center of our line. Notwithstanding Alexandros’s earlier disdain, these were still fearsome engines of war. Each chariot was pulled by a team of two horses and manned by a charioteer and an archer. They crossed the no man’s land between the opposing lines in a blink of an eye. In theory, our infantry troops were adept, as a result of endless drills, at opening up lanes and getting out of the way of these mobile firing platforms. The trouble was that these chariots had been rendered more lethal by the addition of long, sharp blades to the spokes of their wheels, extending about two feet beyond the sides of the vehicles. Once in motion, the blades whirled around madly, slicing, chopping, and mincing anything that came within their reach. Still, our men would have been agile enough to get out of the way of one of these chariots with a minimum of damage or injury. It was a different matter trying to get out of the way of two hundred of them, approaching at breakneck speed, spread out across a front stretching perhaps a third of a mile.

  Everybody sprang into action: The heavily armored phalangists, moving in unison and as quickly as their heavy shields and pikes permitted; the light-armed auxiliaries, who were much more lithe but also much more defenseless against the churning blades and the flying arrows; our archers, salted among the heavy infantry; and the thin line of allied cavalry that had been stationed in front of our line, mostly to screen our infantry maneuvers from the enemy’s view.

  The Persian archers, enjoying the relatively stable platform of a chariot and relieved of any responsibility except to shoot as rapidly as possible, showered our men with their missiles. Our men, in turn, did their best to injure the horses, heeding their commanders’ advice that the horses were easier to hit than the men sheltering behind the raised sides of the chariots. Our cavalry men rode as close as they dared in order to thrust and throw their javelins. They often miscalculated, as a result of which the legs of their horses were chopped asunder, precipitating the men to the ground and into the teeth of the lethal blades. New, distinctive, sickening grace notes started to punch through the general cacophony surrounding us – the sound of shrieks being cut short as men were decapitated midscream.

  Our lightly armed Agrianians ran, with incredible bravery, among the moving chariots, stabbing the horses in their bellies, and then trying to jump out of the way of the whirling blades. Sometimes they succeeded and sometimes they didn’t. And even when they survived their encounters with the chariots, they were confronted by heavily armed men on horses because the Persian cavalry came rushing in hard on the heels of the charging chariots. I don’t believe many of these heroic, semi-barbarian allies of ours survived their encounters with the chariots and the ensuing mounted warriors.

  But the efforts of our allied cavalry and our lightly armed auxiliaries bought a bit of precious time for the heavy infantry, long enough to enable them to overlap their shields and brace themselves against the impact of the horses pulling the chariots. They were also able to open a wide gap in the middle of the line. Most importantly, they didn’t panic. Horses yoked to a chariot were unlikely to leap over a line of infantrymen and tended to shy when driven against a solid wall of shields and sarissas. However, it required courage, discipline, and physical strength to stand up to a line of charging half-ton animals.

  Some of the horses pulling the Persian chariots were in fact sustaining wounds and going to the ground. Better yet, some became uncontrollable and swerved into the paths of other chariots, causing havoc. Most of the casualties were occurring on the outside fringes of the advancing chariots, with the result that the remaining teams of horses, with their attached vehicles, tended to veer toward the middle. With the assistance of the steadfast infantry
lines, the chariots were gradually channeled into the gauntlet created by the phalanxes, where they continued to sustain casualties as they thundered through. The Persian cavalry simply followed behind the chariots and thus ended up being funneled into the gap as well.

  A loud shout to my right caused me to return my attention to the struggle between the Baktrian horsemen and our Silver Shields. Apparently, one of our archers had managed to down a Baktrian squadron commander, to the audible outrage of the enemy and joy of our men. In general, the fighting around the right end of our line was spreading and becoming even more vicious. As Bessos discovered that the end of the line was much stronger than he had anticipated and that any flanking maneuver would be tougher to execute, he kept sending in more and more reinforcements. And after he had committed the entire 12,000-man Baktrian Cavalry to the attack, he requested from Dareios, and received, further reinforcements of steppe cavalry and eventually Persian heavy cavalry as well. I watched in horror as a few thousand of our infantrymen struggled to stand up against a vicious assault of at least 20,000 cavalry.

  In the meantime, on our left wing, the situation was even worse. The Persian cavalry had overwhelmed our Thessalian and allied Greek horsemen and were now charging our heavy infantry. These Persian knights, many of whom used to be infantry as well, were not intimidated by the prospect of taking on a shieldwall. On the contrary, clad in chainmail from head to toe and riding their large, armored horses, they relished the opportunity to take on foot soldiers in one-on-one combat and demonstrate their bravery. Except, of course, there were several Persian knights against each one of our hoplites.

  Our men had the advantage of their long pikes, which they could poke against the necks, chests, and shoulders of the beasts, but, unless they were particularly lucky, their pikes tended to slide off or break against the equine armor, without inflicting any injury. It was heavy work trying to dislodge the Persian warriors and even after our men successfully unhorsed them, their reward was a confrontation with an armored, well-armed, experienced warrior.