The Battle of Thurii (Part 3)

“Oh, these brothers are amazing! No wonder they’re heroes who fought all the way to Persia and back!”

“Look at those slingers—they’re my countrymen, Rhodians!”

“And us Thracians—see how accurately they throw their javelins! I want to shed this heavy armor, grab a javelin, and join them!”

...

Drakos heard the praise and envy from the soldiers around him and tightened the leather strap behind his round shield: “Come on, you natives, come taste our might!” At this moment, his fighting spirit blazed.

Sicinnagos, the overconfident great leader of Pyxous, had never expected his troops to take a blow before even formally engaging the enemy. What frustrated him even more was that the Lucanians’ traditional weapons were javelins, long spears, and short swords—javelins were their strong suit—but to better counter the Greeks, most had switched to heavy equipment, leaving only a few javelin men in the rear. The enemy’s arrows and sling stones had already extended to the rear ranks. Under the barrage, only a few javelin men could retaliate, but with no visible enemy and the enemy’s numbers few and scattered, the results were naturally minimal. Fortunately, the enemy’s light infantry were few, and the two ends of the right wing’s phalanx were less affected. So Sicinnagos, with no other choice, urged the flanks to press inward faster, trying to surround or drive off these annoying and fearsome enemies...

Meanwhile, the Lucanians in the center and left, seeing the right wing’s tragic experience, feared the same fate. Both warriors and leaders instinctively quickened their pace, hoping to make contact with the Greek army as soon as possible.

Over ten thousand warriors charged forward in long strides, making the very earth tremble.

Archytas, Feris, Drakos... every general and leader began shouting: “Shield formation defense!”

At the front of the phalanx, the soldiers stepped forward with their left foot slightly bent, their right foot planted behind, round shields covering the left front, stabbing spears raised high, spear points aimed forward and down. The ranks behind pressed forward one after another, bracing the backs of those ahead, spears thrust forward, shields linked with shields... The entire phalanx resembled a giant metal monster covered in spines.

With a hundred-meter charge and slightly higher ground (though the Sybaris Plain was flat, the terrain gradually rose toward the west), the Lucanian warriors slammed straight into the Greek infantry phalanx with tremendous momentum.

With a thunderous crash, on this day in late April 399 BC, the formal battle between Thurii and the Lucanian tribal coalition began...

For both sides, this was a life-or-death struggle, yet to the major powers of the Mediterranean it seemed utterly insignificant: Carthage and Syracuse would not notice, as both were mustering strength for a new round of conflict over control of Sicily; Rome would not notice, busy besieging and assaulting the great Etruscan city of Veii up the Tiber; Sparta and Persia would not notice, both preparing in Asia Minor for the coming war; Athens would not notice, its energy focused on how to quickly recover its strength, ravaged by years of war, while forcibly enduring Sparta’s high-handed actions; Macedonia would not notice, its kingdom fractured, kings changing frequently, its people perhaps longing for a strong ruler to rescue them from misery... Hundreds of kingdoms, city-states, and tribes across the Mediterranean were either busy surviving or busy invading, with neither the mind nor the ability to learn about a conflict between two obscure forces in southern Italy. Yet this great battle (later known as the Battle of Thurii) opened the most splendid and glorious new chapter in the magnificent ancient history of the Mediterranean.

The Lucanians were a mountain tribe, passionate and impulsive. In their rapid charge, their fighting spirit kept rising. So when they saw the shield wall of spears before them, some warriors—rather than thinking of the leaders’ earlier instructions to raise shields and ram—leapt straight into it, their minds flooded with battle fury. Especially those from Grumentum, whose long campaigns had produced a large number of warriors who lived for combat. Not a few took such “reckless” actions, which, though more likely to be wounded, disrupted the Greek defensive formation.

In particular, the Thurian citizen soldiers and Drakos’s mercenaries in the center, having never trained together before, lacked coordination. Naturally, the rows of their formation were not tightly linked. Moreover, Drakos had never seen this kind of charging tactic from mountain people and had no countermeasure. Thus, the Greek center fell into hard fighting from the start...

On the Greek right wing, the Tarentine citizen soldiers at the front of the phalanx were clearly more experienced in handling the Lucanian warriors’ charge. And the warriors of Nerulum and Laüs were far less ferocious than those from Grumentum, so they did not inflict too great an impact on the Greek right. Shields clashed against shields, spears met javelins, as they began pushing and fighting... Two hundred cavalry also rode forward, periodically charging the flank of the Lucanian left, only to retreat immediately whenever Lucanian warriors came to block them. Greek cavalry were still hothouse flowers—they lacked the superb horsemanship of Numidians and the fierceness of Gallic or Germanic cavalry—so they could only serve as a nuisance. Yet even so, they made the Lucanian left wary, unable to commit fully to the attack. Thus, even though they outnumbered the Greek right and their phalanx was thicker, the two sides remained locked in stalemate...

While the left and center of the Lucanian coalition had already begun fighting, the right wing was still advancing slowly. The mercenary light infantry fought as they retreated, successfully delaying the enemy’s advance. When the two sides were about fifty meters apart, some of the light infantry withdrew from the battlefield outside the front of the phalanx, while others passed through gaps left in the formation and retreated to the rear.

By this time, the formation of the Lucanian coalition’s right wing had become crescent-shaped—both ends protruding and the center concave. Sicinnagos, caught in the middle of the formation, had lost control of his troops and could no longer reorganize the line. His only option was to order the trumpeter to sound the charge. The remaining fifty meters would be the warriors’ final sprint bonus. But just as the trumpet sounded, a rhythmic bronze trumpet also came from the opposite side, making Sicinnagos instantly alert. As he tensely wondered what formidable enemy opposite him would do next, Genenatus, standing at the very front of the line and already bearing multiple wounds, clearly saw the Greek heavy infantry opposite him pull back their right arms, lean their bodies back, but take two quick steps forward with their legs. This move... Genenatus, already a frightened bird, swiftly curled his entire body under his round shield.

In an instant, over a thousand javelins flew across several dozen meters and landed in the Lucanian formation that was about to charge. What they raised was no longer mere ripples like before, but a wave of death. In an instant, hundreds were killed or wounded, effectively halting the Lucanian advance...

And at that moment, the terrifying bronze trumpet sounded again, more urgently. The Greek mercenaries immediately shouted: “Hades!!!” Holding shields and spears, they charged forward.

The mercenary charge was not a full-scale advance. The far right end, considering its link to the center, did not go forward. But the soldiers in the center and on the left, completely disregarding their own thin formation and the enemy’s numbers, charged at the enemy with high morale, like a mighty dragon fiercely swinging its tail.

The Lucanian front line had not recovered from the javelin strike; their formation was in chaos. And just then, the mercenary charge slammed into them. The soldiers expertly used the momentum from their sprint, throwing their bodies into shield bashes to break the enemy’s defense, then their right-hand stabbing spears struck like serpent tongues—quick and accurate—piercing the throat or face of the opposing enemy. The front rank of Lucanians fell in a neat row...

Such terrifying attack efficiency and imposing momentum shocked the Lucanians in the rear. Even these self-proclaimed brave warriors could not help but start to retreat... The mercenaries pressed forward step by step, the Lucanians fell back step by step... The collapse of the Lucanian coalition’s right wing was imminent.

Note: Vergae was the northernmost town of the Bruttians, bordering Laüs.