Volume 3: The First Croton War, Chapter 25: Recruits and Training (Part 1)

The instructor had told Alcinus: in war, the actual fighting is very brief, and most of the time is spent marching and camping. Therefore, a well-trained Amendolara citizen soldier must first adapt and learn how to march.

Alcinus trusted his instructor, a company commander said to be one of the army's renowned warriors. Following the method his instructor had taught him, he controlled his pace and regulated his breathing to conserve strength.

During the march, he also saw line after line of Lucanian slaves carrying freshly cut logs, brushing past them. In the past, he would have vented his anger with insults and thrown stones, but now he did not. For one thing, he had grown accustomed to their presence—these slaves were city-state property, creating wealth for the polis, and harming them would bring no benefit to him but would instead incur punishment. For another, the instructor had told them that such behavior was a sign of weakness; a true warrior defeats his enemies on the battlefield. Alcinus wanted to be a true warrior!

The five-kilometer armed march ended, but that was not all. After a short rest, the recruits began charge training—a drill that gave Alcinus a slight thrill. Fully armed, the new soldiers first formed a tight phalanx. As the drum sounded, they began to march; the drumbeat quickened from slow to fast, and the recruits’ pace shifted from a brisk walk to a jog, then to a sprint. While running at full speed, they also had to leap across narrow trenches and scramble over earthen mounds, causing recruits to stumble from time to time. The hardest part of charge training was maintaining formation while running—no one could be too far ahead or too far behind, ensuring the phalanx struck the target as a single unit. The recruits often lost focus on one aspect while neglecting another, and the instructor’s shouts from the sidelines never ceased.

After one round of charge training, every recruit had sore arms and legs. They tossed aside their spears and shields, dropped their helmets, and collapsed to the ground, gasping for breath. But the training was not over. The instructor kicked and pulled them, forcing the stumbling recruits down to the banks of the Sisno River.

The next training session was swimming—a favorite of Alcinus and the recruits who were old citizens of Amendolara. Although Amendolara was a mountain city, its territory had numerous rivers, so all citizens knew how to swim. Cheering, Alcinus and the others quickly shed their gear and dove into the water with a splash. The cool river water immediately swept away the heat from training, washed off the sweat and dust, and eased their fatigue. After swimming for a while, Alcinus and his comrades climbed ashore, for there was now an amusing spectacle for the recruits to watch: many of the veterans, who usually looked down on them with arrogant eyes, were awkwardly learning to swim in the river. It was true that Greeks were a seafaring people and most could swim, but some city-states, located in mountainous inland areas with few rivers, gave their people no chance to learn from childhood—Thessaly, for example.

These veterans, though clumsy and repeatedly choking on water, persisted stubbornly in their practice.

Alcinus laughed at first, but then stopped. He remembered what the instructor had said when explaining the importance of swimming: back when they were in Persian territory, marching through hardships while battling Persians, they had to cross many high mountains and great rivers. Some of his comrades, unable to swim, tried to force their way across under enemy arrows, slipped, fell into the river, and drowned for nothing. In war, soldiers encountered all kinds of unexpected situations, so it was best to master a variety of combat skills in order to protect oneself and kill the enemy.

Just then, a loud cheer from up ahead roused Alcinus from his thoughts.

"What's happening?" he asked his teammate beside him, who was looking downstream.

"I heard the magistrate is racing someone in swimming," replied Melysander. Melysander's father had also died in this war. His mother, just over thirty, had recently married the Senate's new senator—the Military Affairs Officer Philistos. Melysander was only sixteen, not yet of service age, but stubbornly insisted on participating in training, with the same goal as Alcinus. Cornered and unable to refuse, his adoptive father Philistos had to go to Davos, who gave special permission for him to train, though he could not go to war until he came of age. Because Alcinus was close to him in age and the youngest in the camp, they had become good friends.

"The magistrate has come swimming too?" Alcinus was surprised.

"Lord Davos always demands that others do what he himself must first do. He trains alongside the veterans—you just don't usually see it," the instructor's voice sounded beside him.

Alcinus nodded and ran excitedly downstream.

"Wait for me!" Melysander called.

The two squeezed through the crowd and saw five men in the river paddling fiercely to the urgent beat of a drum. One of them, with alternating strokes of arms and legs, body tilting left and right, moved through the water swiftly like a big fish in a swimming motion neither had ever seen before, leaving the others far behind.

When the drum stopped, the man stood up. The waters of the Sisno River reached his waist. It was Magistrate Davos himself, whom Alcinus had seen before at the assembly of all citizens.

Davos laughed. "Anyone else willing to compete?"

The soldiers, who had been cheering loudly, fell silent.

Seeing no response, Davos turned and embraced the other competitors, then prepared to climb ashore.

Melysander suddenly pushed Alcinus, who stumbled out of the crowd. Facing the focus of everyone's gaze, he shouted impulsively, "I... I'll do it!"

The soldiers burst into an uproar: "He's just a kid!" They said it with regret.

"What's wrong with being a kid? Lord Davos is only a few years older than us!" Melysander retorted, and the crowd fell quiet.

"Well said, Melysander! Greatness does not depend on age!" Davos smiled at Melysander—because of Philistos, he knew the young man—then fixed his gaze on Alcinus. "It's always the young who dare to challenge!"

Alcinus nervously walked up to Davos. In this age, Greeks admired the beauty of a strong, naked body, and swimming naturally meant being completely nude. Davos was of medium height with a well-proportioned build, and his eyes were unusually sharp, though now that sharpness was hidden behind a broad smile.

Davos studied Alcinus in return. He laughed and said, "I don't think I've seen you before. Are you a new recruit?"

"Yes, Magistrate. I am Alcinus, son of Aligras." Alcinus spoke with slight tension. "I... I may not be as fast as you, but I'm willing to race you."

Davos praised him loudly: "A soldier must have the courage to fight! Our soldiers of Amendolara should have—and must have—such a fighting spirit!"

When Davos finished, the soldiers on the bank shouted in unison, "Hail! Hail!! Hail!!!..."

In that atmosphere, Alcinus suddenly stopped feeling nervous; his heart filled with strength. Of course, the result of the race was that he lost.

Davos patted his shoulder and encouraged him: "Train hard, and you will surely become a warrior!"

Alcinus nodded firmly. It was strange—Davos was only two years older than him, but it felt like a respected elder speaking to him.

"Who is your instructor?" Davos asked.

"Matonis."

"Oh, that fellow." A smile appeared on Davos's face. "Training under him, you'll feel happiness because he protects his own; but you'll also feel pain because he is strict, especially with you."

This last remark confused Alcinus.

Davos looked up at the soldiers around him and shouted, "Brothers, am I fast at swimming?"

"Fast!!!"

"Want to learn?"

"Want!!!"

"I will write down the technique for my swimming strokes and add it to the training section of the Military Code. You will practice according to that from now on. I hope you can learn it as soon as possible!"

...

After swimming, the sun was directly overhead—time to eat. Traditionally, Greeks ate only two meals a day, but Davos believed the soldiers trained hard and expended too much energy, so they must have a midday meal to complete the day's training.

The soldiers brought out bread and cheese from home, while the Military Affairs Officer Philistos, along with his men and slaves, served each soldier a bowl of mutton soup with meat. The money for selling mutton now came from the disabled soldiers' fund of the weapon workshop; in future, except for weapons, the proceeds from selling other items taken in battle would go to the military department, thus covering the cost of training.

Alcinus bit into his bread and drank the steaming mutton soup, feeling strength slowly return to his body. He said, "Melysander, I've heard old folks say the magistrate is too overbearing—he decides all decrees and laws by himself without letting others discuss them, and that he wants to be a dictator. But from what I've seen today, the magistrate seems pretty easygoing!"

Beside him, Melysander curled his lip. "Don't listen to those old men. They're just jealous! Because Lord Davos and his men became citizens of Amendolara and immediately became magistrates and senators on the Senate. But they have the ability—otherwise, do you think Thurii would have begged to sign an equal alliance with us? It's because of them; otherwise, they would have sent envoys to condemn us long ago! I even hope Lord Davos is more forceful, not like before, when the Senate would argue over a matter forever without resolving it! Look how much Amendolara has changed!"

"You're right!" Alcinus slurped a big mouthful of mutton soup, looked up at Melysander, and said, "It seems you get along well with your adoptive father."

Melysander paused, chewed a few bites of bread, and said vaguely, "It's okay... He treats my mother well... and he's decent to me. But I'd like it even more if he had a bit more spirit, like the instructor..."