Volume 3: The First Croton War, Chapter 25: Recruits and Training (Part 2)

“Just like the drill instructor?!” Alcinus laughed. “In that case, you wouldn’t be able to stay home at all! ‘Melisanda, get up, go run for me… Melisanda, stop eating, come spar with me… Melisanda, pick up that rock and run ten laps around the courtyard…’” Alcinus imitated Matonis’ tone, exaggerating as he spoke.

“Alcinus, do you want me to tell the drill instructor what you just said and see who ends up carrying a rock and running ten laps?” Melisanda feigned a threat.

Alcinus promptly begged for forgiveness, and Melisanda let him off.

Alcinus then asked, “Are we really going to attack Lucania?”

“With all this grueling training, would it really be just to defend Amendolara?!” Melisanda sneered. “That would be a complete waste of our strength!”

“Hey, you know what—” Alcinus grew excited. “If we actually conquer the land of Lucania, could I take a Lucanian woman as my wife? These past few days I’ve seen many of the new citizens’ Lucanian wives—they’re really something. Tall, full-figured, can handle heavy work, a different flavor from our Greek women…”

“Aren’t you thinking about all that a bit too early?!” Melisanda asked in surprise.

“I’m not like you. Your home is empty, just me alone…” Alcinus’ voice dropped low.

“Then let’s train hard together to master our killing skills, go conquer the Lucanians, and then you can marry a Lucanian woman and have a bunch of kids!” Melisanda quickly encouraged him.

“Right, let’s work hard together!” Alcinus and Melisanda clasped each other’s hands tightly.

…

After lunch, the new soldiers’ break was short. Soon Alcinus and the others were assembled again.

The afternoon training began with individual combat drills—not chaotic one-on-one slashing, but practice in groups of three. In their left hand they held a round shield (which should have been a cruder wooden shield made from thicker wood and heavier, but there was no time or manpower to make them now), and in their right hand a long wooden staff heavier than the stabbing spear.

Alcinus noticed his staff was thicker than the others, and his teammates had been swapped from Melisanda and another young companion to two stronger ones. He cast a doubtful glance at the drill instructor monitoring the practice from the sidelines.

Matonis looked back at him and said sternly, “If you want to become a warrior, you must train even harder!”

Alcinus now understood what the magistrate had meant earlier. He didn’t argue, but accepted it silently.

The drill began. Alcinus attacked first. With a loud shout, he held his round shield and slammed it with all his might into the “enemy” in front of him. A loud *clang* rang out; the “enemy” staggered. He immediately thrust his long wooden staff, its tip coated with lime powder, at the round shield of another “enemy” hiding behind the first. The thrust had to be fast—otherwise the front-line “enemy” would quickly regain footing and block his attack route…

Each person took turns attacking and blocking. After ten rounds of attack, they rested a bit, then practiced lunge strikes: holding round shield and long wooden staff, they stepped forward and had to accurately strike the head of a human-shaped target in front. Those whose wooden shields were hit the most times during the previous drill had their training doubled.

After completing ten rounds, they rested again, then training continued, still in groups of three. But this time the long wooden staffs were replaced with short wooden rods, the same length as a side sword. Alcinus’ rod was again thicker, but this time he didn’t question it. The drill was still about ramming and striking the round shield of the rear “enemy,” but because the rod was much shorter, the attacker had to use greater force to shove open the front “enemy” and take his position in order to reach the rear one—again, ten rounds.

Next came another round: hitting wooden human-shaped targets. First, each new soldier had to use his wooden rod to pound his assigned thick wooden human-shaped target deep into the dirt, until it stood straight and steady. Then, holding rod and shield, as if facing a real enemy, they went all out, stabbing at the target’s “head” and “face,” sometimes attacking its ribs, sometimes thrusting at its shins, chopping at its knee pits…

Under the strict demands of the drill instructor, they moved backward, leaped forward, performing various thrusting and slashing movements…

By the time all these drills were completed, their limbs were sore and numb, barely able to lift themselves.

Then Matonis spoke: “Your performance is better than last time! Looks like after going home last time, you’ve been practicing every day, which is why you could last through it?”

“Yes…” the new soldiers answered weakly.

“Good! Train like this, and you’ll soon become a qualified heavy infantryman of Amendolara.” Matonis showed a hint of an encouraging smile. “Next, there’s a new training item. You’ll return to your respective companies and practice formation drills with the veterans.”

Not long after Matonis finished speaking, a bugle call rang out in the camp. Urged on by Matonis, the new soldiers dressed properly, picked up their round shields and spears. Since they had been training all along with thick wooden rods heavier than the spears, switching to the actual spears felt as light as nothing. Alcinus recalled the words Instructor Matonis had said when first responding to the soldiers’ complaints during their initial training: ‘During training, you carry heavier wooden weapons. When you reach the battlefield, the real weapons in your hands are much lighter, so you’ll feel relaxed, have more strength in battle, and be more spirited…’

Alcinus also remembered: when he was younger, he watched the citizen soldiers of his city-state train—once every few months, that was all. They simply practiced marching in formation under the standards, then did one-on-one drills. The training was simple and easy, nothing like what he was doing now, which was not only grueling and complex but also progressed step by step, like learning letters as a child—seeming very reasonable, with strict standards and heavy training volume. No wonder the veterans had been able to defeat the Lucanian allied forces! He had heard that all these training methods came from the training regulations in the newly compiled *Military Code* of Amendolara, mainly written by the Magistrate Lord Davos. What an amazing man!

Alcinus and Melisanda were not in the same company. Without even time to say goodbye to Melisanda, he hurried off to find his own unit: the Third Company of the Third Battalion. He had heard from Instructor Matonis that the company commander of that company was named Georgios, a tentmate of his from back in the day, mild-tempered.

Surely he wouldn’t be stricter than Instructor Matonis, right? Why did Alcinus think that at this moment? Because after the bugle call, thousands of men were moving at once, and dust filled the training ground. The only things barely visible were the bright red standards standing tall on the field. Alcinus searched one after another, wasting a lot of time, his anxiety mounting. Finally, by the number on the standard, he found his unit.

As soon as Platoon Leader Trotidius saw him, he said sternly, “Soldier, you’re late! Since this is your first time, I’ll spare you the punishment for now. Don’t let it happen again!”

Alcinus immediately agreed, and under the platoon leader’s direction, quickly took his place.

Then a man around thirty years old came over and said warmly, “My name is Kteippos. I’m your squad leader.”

“Hello, squad leader!” Alcinus promptly saluted.

Kteippos looked him up and down, then said, “Not bad—a sturdy young fellow! You’re a new soldier?”

“Yes.”

“Originally a citizen of Amendolara?”

“I guessed so. Which drill instructor trained you?”

“Matonis.”

“What?! That madman!”

“Squad leader, you know Instructor Matonis?”

“I used to be in his company. Because of my excellent performance, during this reorganization of the army, the Third Battalion forcibly demanded I come here. Matonis didn’t want to let me go, but since Georgios is his good friend, well, here I am—and I end up running into you, one of Matonis’ students. It must be the doing of the goddess of fate!” Kteippos said with a look of deep emotion. In truth, Matonis just found him too talkative, so when the Third Battalion asked for personnel, he directly recommended him out the door. There was never any talk of holding him back.

“Don’t worry, I’ll take good care of you!” Kteippos said earnestly.

“Thank you, squad leader!” Alcinus said gratefully.

“Kteippos, get ready for training. Stop talking!” shouted Trotidius from the front of the platoon.

“Got it!” Kteippos called back, then muttered under his breath: “Getting to be platoon leader—that was sheer luck. If I had been the first to follow Lord Davos, I’d be a company commander by now…”

Alcinus felt a bit strange hearing that.

The soldier next to him said, “Our squad leader likes to chatter, but he’s a good guy.”

Hope so, Alcinus thought.

Because the earlier training had been so intense, the platoon drill now simply let the soldiers get familiar with their comrades, practicing small phalanx formation marching and jogging. For the soldiers of the First Battalion, this kind of exercise was just a relaxing way to recover their energy, since they knew each other all too well. But for the Third Battalion, it was quite necessary—it was a new unit, and the platoon soldiers weren’t very familiar with one another.

According to the traditional military training practices of Greek city-states, the officer corps was relatively fixed, but the soldiers were frequently rotated. When it came time for battle, citizens were summoned to the plaza and randomly assigned to various units by order or by lottery, to prevent soldiers and officers in the same unit from forming cliques that could disrupt the normal political order and democratic elections of the city-state.

Davos, however, believed that a fixed military unit helped foster cohesion and a sense of honor, making soldiers more united and cooperative in battle and thus more effective. Therefore, the soldiers of Amendolara were permanently assigned to a specific unit, while officers had fixed terms and were rotated out when their term ended, preventing the army from becoming the personal property of the commander (this practice had not yet been implemented).