The Elite

by Ranulph Fiennes

  Yet, when one of the girls came near to Archias, he narrowed his eyes; something wasn’t right. Before he could act, a dagger was slashed across his throat. The girl was Pelopidas in disguise. As Archias collapsed into a pool of blood, the other disguised hetairai proceeded to slaughter everyone in the room. Pelopidas and Epaminondas’s anti-Spartan uprising had begun. Yet the job was only half done. There was still the small matter of the Spartan garrison based in the town, which would be sure to strike back.

  However, as word rippled through the streets that Leontiades, Hypates and Archias were dead, the citizens of Thebes decided to take their chance. Breaking into the city’s armouries, they armed themselves and marched on the Spartans. Outnumbered, and facing a furious mob, the Spartans left the city without a fight, making a mockery of their ‘death or victory’ mantra. For now, Thebes was free of the Spartans. Yet everyone was well aware this was just a fleeting victory. King Agesilaus would surely not take this rebellion lightly. Hell was soon going to pay them a visit, hard and fast. If they were to survive the Spartan military juggernaut, the Thebans would need to be prepared.

  No army had beaten Sparta’s mighty warriors in open battle for over 100 years. As seen in the previous chapter, their training regime was designed to build the toughest warriors on the planet. By contrast, Thebes didn’t even have a full-time army. All it had to offer were reservists who had only received the most basic training. Should they come head to head with the full force of the Spartans, it would be no contest. While Thebes soon found allies in the surrounding region of Boeotia and beyond, Pelopidas, Gorgidas and Epaminondas decided they needed to create a fulltime elite fighting unit of their own. They named it the ‘Sacred Band’ and it was destined to become one of the most unique special forces in military history.

  Again, much detail has been lost as to the Sacred Band’s origins, but we know they took inspiration from the Spartans. Thus a force of 300 of Thebes’s most fearsome warriors was raised to go toe to toe with the Spartan 300 – but there was one crucial difference. Not only were all of the 300 Thebans homosexual, they were 150 couples.

  While homosexuality was accepted in ancient Greece, it appears there were good military reasons the unit was to be composed of couples. The Spartan 300 had trained and fought together over many years. This had forged close bonds between the men, and meant they were willing to fight to the death for each other. To build such a relationship between men takes time, something Thebes did not have. Placing lovers in combat together was therefore designed to jump-start the process of building esprit de corps. Plato certainly approved of such a decision, observing that men might actually fight better next to their lovers, writing in his Symposium:

  And if there were only some way of contriving that a state or an army should be made up of lovers and their beloved, they would be the very best governors of their own city, abstaining from all dishonour, and emulating one another in honour; and when fighting at each other’s side, although a mere handful, they would overcome the world. For what lover would not choose rather to be seen by all mankind than by his beloved, either when abandoning his post or throwing away his arms? He would be ready to die a thousand deaths rather than endure this. Or who would desert his beloved or fail him in the hour of danger?

  Historians disagree about the exact date the Symposium was written but many believe it was before the Sacred Band was formed. Therefore, it might have even served as inspiration for the Band’s formation.

  However, one definite source of inspiration arrived courtesy of Thebes’s most celebrated son: Hercules. Despite being married, the famous figure from Greek mythology had shared a passionate homosexual relationship with his charioteer, Iolaus, which saw them become a formidable fighting team. Their extraordinary devotion to each other, and legendary victories, was exactly what Epaminondas and Gorgidas hoped to recreate with the Sacred Band.

  In all of my endeavours, I have always recognised the necessity of a strong bond within a team. When I volunteered to serve in Oman, I was put in charge of a platoon who were a mix of Omanis and Baluchis, who absolutely hated each other. When your focus should be on fighting the enemy, you certainly don’t need to be concerned about your men fighting among themselves. Only able to speak the most basic Arabic, I was also unable to understand what was being said as words flew between them, hot and bitter. I felt about as effective as a pint of oil in a stormbound ocean. When they argued about whose turn it was to be on watch, I suggested that we flip coins to decide. They looked at me as though I were mad. Such western games were unheard of. With all my initial attempts to find some harmony between them failing, I made it a top priority to fix this issue, before it dragged the whole platoon under.

  Of course, if they were going to have any respect for each other they first had to gain respect for their leader. While brushing up on my Arabic, so I could finally understand what was going on, I also endeavoured to treat each man fairly, to avoid any allegations of favouritism. I also ensured I knew each man’s name and background. Such familiarity saw them warm to me, so much so that they eventually christened me Bachait bin Shemtot bin Samra, which apparently means ‘John, Son of Rags, Son of the Thorntree’. I’m not entirely sure if this was an affectionate name but it seemed they had at least come to respect me.

  With this, I could start to train my team to fight as a unit, rather than as individuals. I wanted each man to realise why they, and their supposed enemy, were a vital cog in the overall machine. Without one, the others would all fall. Moreover, I also mixed them up so the Omanis and Baluchis were on the same team, rather than being separated. I told them, ‘We are now Recce Family whether we are Baluchi, British, Omani or Zanzibari.’ After this, I certainly had no noticeable issues between my men, while we also tried to protect Oman from the Marxist threat.

  However, in my life, there has been no greater example of the importance of strong relationships than during my many polar expeditions. In subzero temperatures of below minus 50, while pulling a sledge weighing over 450lbs for hundreds of miles on end, it was important that I be accompanied by people I not only could trust, but also liked. Unsurprisingly, such arduous conditions could make one very cranky. Little incidents, such as a dropped biscuit crumb, could spark resentments that lasted for days. If I were to have embarked on an expedition with a team-mate whom I detested, then I don’t think we could have lasted long. Of course, my late wife, Ginny, was also a crucial part of my expedition team, taking charge of communications, as well as everything else in between. Our love for each other, and shared determination to reach our goals, inspired us both to push ourselves beyond all reason. I felt most proud when Ginny became the first woman ever to receive the coveted Polar Medal from Her Majesty the Queen in recognition of her vital work. For this reason alone, I believe the decision to fill the Band with lovers to be inspired, for it was Ginny who certainly inspired me to keep going in my darkest hours. However, if the Thebans were to defeat the Spartans, having a devoted team of warriors was just the first step.

  Pelopidas now had to train these 300 part-time warriors so that they were a match for the most fearsome military unit of their time. Stationed at Cadmea, they lived together, trained together and fought together, with everything done to ensure that they worked as a team, rather than individuals. Building strength and endurance was vital, and involved the Band running for hour after hour, in the baking-hot Greek sun, as well as engaging in wrestling matches to increase their power and agility. Their training also included intense sword and spear drills, as well as how to form a phalanx, just like the Spartans.

  By the summer of 378 BC, the time had almost come for the Sacred Band to prove their worth. After just six months of training, a 20,000-strong Spartan army marched on Thebes to reclaim its territory and strike down democracy. At its head was the Spartan king, Agesilaus.

  Pelopidas knew his men were not yet strong enough, or disciplined enough, to match the Spartan phalanx. Like a game of rugby, the team that had the most powerful
scrum could drive the other off the field. Pelopidas needed to buy time, and this is where Epaminondas came into his own.

  Everyone knew of the Spartans’ legendary battle against the Persians at Thermopylae. But Epaminondas was aware that the Spartan phalanx had only worked because it had been deployed on flat, open terrain. Using this knowledge, the Sacred Band, and their Athenian allies, stood on high ground as the Spartans approached Thebes. If the Spartans wanted to fight, then they would have to do so on their terms.

  On seeing the Theban formation, Agesilaus halted his men. He was also aware that his phalanx was useless when deployed on a slope. To be effective, he needed to entice the Thebans down to the flat ground. As such, he sent a few skirmishers to test the Theban and Athenian lines, only to find them easily dispatched. Still, he remained undeterred. While he couldn’t deploy his phalanx, and knew the Thebans held the advantage on the high ground, he still felt confident that he could break their lines by ordering the whole of his army to descend upon them. This tactic had previously proven successful in the 394 BC Battle of Coronea, and he had no reason to doubt its effectiveness against what he believed to be a bunch of reservists. However, the Sacred Band and its allies were ready for this.

  As the Spartans marched towards them, the Theban forces pointed their spears upwards instead of towards the enemy, and propped their shields against their left knee instead of hoisting them at the shoulder, ready for battle. This totally threw Agesilaus. Unsure if he was sending his men into a trap, he ordered his army to stop. A standoff ensued, with the two armies just 200 metres apart, neither making the first move.

  Agesilaus was the first to blink. He subsequently ordered his forces to back down and leave the battlefield. This was clearly a situation that required more thought than he had envisaged.

  Thebes not only survived another day but this crucially gave the Sacred Band a psychological advantage. While they were not ready to meet the Spartans in battle, they could at least hold them at bay with mind games. This dynamic served them well for a few years but eventually the time came when they had no choice but to fight.

  When the Spartan garrison defending the nearby city of Orchomenus momentarily left its post, Pelopidas decided it was too good an opportunity to turn down. Assembling the Sacred Band, they moved on Orchomenus only to find that the garrison had unexpectedly returned. Vastly outnumbered, Pelopidas was also not convinced the Band was ready for open battle. As such, he ordered his men to return to Thebes.

  However, as they did so, Spartan forces, numbering between 1,000 and 2,000 troops, suddenly emerged before them. The Thebans were outnumbered, totally unprepared, and had no way to escape. According to Plutarch, at this one of the Sacred Band said to Pelopidas, ‘We are fallen into our enemy’s hands.’ Looking him square in the eye Pelopidas replied, ‘And why not they into ours?’ It was finally time to fight.

  With a bloodthirsty roar, the Spartans charged towards them. Yelling above the noise, Pelopidas quickly ordered his men into a tightly packed unit, just as he had trained them to do month after month, year after year. This was something the Spartans were not expecting. They still thought they were fighting a bunch of part-time peasants, not an elite unit. Suddenly, the Sacred Band’s spears had torn through their ranks and killed their leader. At this, Pelopidas showed no mercy. The Sacred Band kept attacking, moving relentlessly and viciously forward. Stunned, and in total disarray, the surviving Spartans ran for their lives.

  Although the battle was small, it was still a victory to cherish. The Spartans had never before been beaten by a smaller company than their own. Now the Sacred Band was confident it could go face to face with the Spartan army, if not yet the 300 itself. But Epaminondas wasn’t so sure. He still thought there was work to be done and relentlessly analysed the Spartan phalanx for weaknesses to exploit.

  Through his own observations, and spies, he learnt that the Spartan army was not what it once was. By this time, there were perhaps fewer than 10 per cent actual Spartiates within its ranks. A true Spartiate was said to be someone who was born in Sparta and possessed enough land to be able to contribute to the state, and could spend their own time training to become a warrior. But, with each generation, the possession of land that entitled Spartans to citizenship, and allowed them the time to train, had been whittled away by laws of inheritance. Sparta was one of the very few places in the ancient Greek world where both men and women could inherit equally. Over time, this division of ownership meant fewer and fewer men inherited enough land to qualify and, as such, they could no longer devote their time to their training. This huge demographic shift now threatened Sparta’s long-standing dominance on the battlefield.

  To fill the void, their vast army became increasingly dependent on non-Spartan allies, known as Perioeci. But these troops were not always reliable. Essentially made up of slaves, or farmers obliged to fight for their Spartan overlords, they had no real loyalty to the Spartan cause. This was a fault line that Epaminondas thought he could exploit. If the Thebans could somehow break the Perioeci’s allegiance, then the whole Spartan army would collapse. To do this, Epaminondas realised he had to show the Perioeci that the feared Spartan 300 could be defeated.

  As detailed by the Athenian historian Thucydides, and as seen at Thermopylae, when the Spartan phalanx adopted a defensive position, they overlapped their shields, which created an impregnable wall that they hid behind. To protect themselves, a few soldiers in the line tended to move their shields slightly towards their right. This saw the soldiers to their left have to do the same in order to protect themselves, which caused a chain reaction down the line, with those towards the far right now the most unprotected. It was for this reason the Spartan generals put their best soldiers on the right of the phalanx. But Epaminondas thought he could exploit this. By placing the Sacred Band on the left, to face the Spartan right, a shock move could quickly overcome them and cause the Spartan phalanx to collapse. Upon seeing Sparta’s best warriors and leaders quickly perish, Epaminondas believed this would so terrify the Perioeci, who didn’t want to fight for their overlords anyway, that they would all flee or surrender.

  However, even Epaminondas was aware that, despite all of the Band’s training, and their bond, it might not be enough to overcome the very best warriors Sparta had to offer. He therefore needed to find one more edge before he could put his strategy to the test.

  Once more, he analysed the Spartan formation and realised that it was never stacked more than twelve ranks deep. If he could stack fifty ranks behind his Sacred Band on the left, then they might just be able to overwhelm the formidable Spartan right, swarm the king and his commanders, and hand Sparta its first defeat in open battle in over a century. The Macedonian author Polyaenus, in his Stratagems of War, stated that, in effect, Epaminondas wanted to catch a snake, crush its head and show his men how useless the rest of it was. The Battle of Leuctra in 371 BC would give Epaminondas a chance to test his theory.

  With age and illness apparently getting the better of King Agesilaus, Sparta’s other king, Cleombrotus, ordered his vast army of 11,000 Spartans and Perioeci to take Thebes once and for all. Marching to the plain of Leuctra, they were met by Pelopidas and his Sacred Band, as well as 7,000 troops. On this flat ground, Cleombrotus expected his phalanx to record an easy victory and to put an end to the Theban rebellion for good. It was clear to Epaminondas that his men were vastly outnumbered. If his plan did not get results quickly, then they would all be slaughtered. The Sacred Band’s attack needed to be one of brutal shock and awe if it was going to work.

  Just as Epaminondas expected, the Spartan king, his commanders and his best warriors lined up at the front, on the right of the phalanx, eight ranks deep. In response, he quickly ordered a bulk of his formation to assemble on the left, behind the Sacred Band. Cleombrotus could see what was happening but before he could act Pelopidas gave the signal to attack. At this, the Sacred Band launched themselves into the right of the Spartan phalanx, with over fifty ranks of shields a
nd spears behind them.

  Twenty of the Sacred Band were instantly killed by Spartan spears, but nonetheless they stuck tight together, the weight of their ranks ploughing them forward, causing the Spartan wall to crack under the strain. As gaps suddenly opened, carnage erupted. Spartans were stabbed and slashed, while Pelopidas tore through the bodies and grabbed King Cleombrotus. Stabbing him again and again, Pelopidas left nothing to chance, ensuring that Cleombrotus was the first Spartan king to be killed in battle since Leonidas. The king’s death sent a shockwave through the rest of the Spartan army. Not only had the 300 been defeated but their king was dead, along with over 400 of the 700 Spartiates.

  As Epaminondas predicted, the slaves and allies of Sparta now decided to retreat. His strategy was a triumph, representing the most shattering defeat in the history of Sparta, and signalling the end of Spartan dominance on the battlefield. Since the number of Spartiates was already small, the death of over half of them saw the Spartan army gradually disintegrate. In its absence, the Sacred Band became the most elite military force in Greece, while they had also ensured that Thebes remained free.

  However, battles with the weakened Spartans would continue for a few years yet, with Epaminondas fatally wounded at the Battle of Mantinea in 362 BC. As his ailing body was carried back to the safety of the Theban camp, he asked his colleagues if the Thebans had been victorious. Upon being told that his tactics, similar to those at Leuctra, had again brought victory he smiled in response and uttered, ‘Then it is time to die.’ When one of his friends said, ‘You die childless, Epaminondas,’ he replied, ‘No, by Zeus, on the contrary. I leave behind two daughters, Leuctra and Mantinea, my victories.’

  In Epaminondas’s absence, the Sacred Band would soon come up against another formidable foe. As the might of the Macedonian army moved on Thebes, a prodigious 18-year-old led the cavalry, intent on marking his name in history . . .