"Anabasis is a famous story written by the Greek professional soldier Xenophon. The text, composed around the year 370 BC, narrates what has been called ""one of the great adventures in human history"".
During the height of the Persian Empire, one pretender for the Persian throne hired a group of ten thousand Greek mercenaries and marched them to the territory of modern Iraq to confront his brother, the ruler, and try to overthrow him from the throne. However, he died in the ensuing battle, meaning that the Greek troops were now stuck thousands of miles from home, in enemy territory, with no supplies and no friends.
This was the beginning of one of the greatest adventures and stories of courage ever told. Xenophon was one of the participants in the expedition and one of the commanders of the retreat. The troops marched thousands of miles, battling enemies left and right, to finally make it home. The truth is sometimes stranger and more powerful than fiction and this story qualifies. Listen to this book, if you want to hear a riveting story full of adventure and one that can inspire you to overcome obstacles that you think are insurmountable.
Summary Credit: Lifehack."
Book IV, Part III, of Xenophon's Anabasis.
Number 5
The next day it was resolved that they should set off with all possible speed,
before the enemy had time to collect and occupy the Defal. Having got their kit and baggage
together, they at once began their march through deep snow with several guides, and, crossing the
high pass the same day on which Tirebasus was to have attacked them, got safely into Cantonments.
From this point they marched three desert stages, fifteen parisangs, to the river Euphrates,
and crossed it in water up to the waist. The sources of the river were reported to be at
no great distance. From this place they marched through deep snow over a flat country three stages,
fifteen parisangs. The last of these marches was trying, with the north wind blowing in their teeth,
drying up everything and benumbing the men. Here one of the seers suggested to them to do
sacrifice to Boreas, and sacrifice was done. The effect was obvious to all in the diminished
fierceness of the blast, but there was six feet of snow, so that many of the baggage animals and
slaves were lost, and about thirty of the men themselves. They spent the whole night in kindling
fire, for there was fortunately no dearth of wood at the halting place. Only those who came late
into camp had no wood. Accordingly, those who had arrived a good while, and had kindled fires,
were not for allowing these latecomers near the fires, unless they would in return give a share
of their corn, or of any other vittles they might have. Here, then, a general exchange of goods was
set up. Where the fire was kindled, the snow melted, and great trenches formed themselves
down to the bare earth, and here it was possible to measure the depth of the snow. Leaving these
quarters, they marched the whole of the next day over snow, and many of the men were afflicted
with bulimia, or hunger faintness. Xenophon, who was guarding the rear, came upon some men who had
dropped down, and he did not know what ailed them. But someone who was experienced in such matters
suggested to him that they had evidently got bulimia, and if they got something to eat,
they would revive. Then he went the round of the baggage-train, and laying an embargo on any
eatables he could see, doled out with his own hands, or sent off other able-bodied agents to
distribute to the sufferers, who, as soon as they had taken a mouthful, got on their legs again,
and continued the march. On and on they marched, and about dusk Charisophus reached a village,
and surprised some women and girls who had come from the village to fetch water at the fountain
outside the stockade. These asked them who they were. The interpreters answered for them in
Persian. They were on their way from the king to the satrap, in reply to which the women gave
them to understand that the satrap was not at home, but was away a parisang further on.
As it was late, they entered with the water-carriers within the stockade to visit the
headman of the village. Accordingly, Charisophus, and as many of the troops as were able, got into
cantonments there, while the rest of the soldiers, those namely who were unable to complete the
march, had to spend the night out, without food and without fire. Under the circumstances, some
of the men perished. On the heels of the army hung perpetually bands of the enemy, snatching
away disabled baggage animals, and fighting with each other over their carcasses. And in its track,
not seldom were left to their fate disabled soldiers, struck down with snow blindness,
or with toes mortified by frostbite. As to the eyes, it was some alleviation against the snow
to march with something black before them. For the feet, the only remedy was to keep in motion
without stopping for an instant, and to loose the sandal at night. If they went to sleep with
their sandals on, the thong worked into the feet, and the sandals were frozen fast to them.
This was partly due to the fact that, since their old sandals had failed, they wore untanned brogues
made of newly flayed oxides. It was owing to some such dire necessity that a party of men fell out
and were left behind, and seeing a black-looking patch of ground where the snow had evidently
disappeared, they conjectured it must be melted. And this was actually so, owing to a spring of
some sort which was to be seen steaming up in a dell close by. To this they had turned aside and
sat down, and were loath to go a step further. But Xenophon, with his rear-guard, perceived them,
and begged and implored them by all manner of means not to be left behind, telling them that
the enemy were after them in large packs pursuing, and he ended by growing angry. They merely bade
him put a knife to their throats. Not one step further would they stir. Then it seemed best to
frighten the pursuing enemy, if possible, and prevent their falling upon the invalids. It was
already dusk, and the pursuers were advancing with much noise and hubbub, wrangling and disputing
over their spoils. Then all of a sudden the rear-guard, in the plenitude of health and strength,
sprang up out of their lair and run upon the enemy, whilst those weary whites bawled out as
loud as their sick throats could sound, and clashed their spears against their shields.
And the enemy in terror hurled themselves through the snow into the dell, and not one of them ever
uttered a sound again. Xenophon and his party, telling the sick folk that next day people would
come for them, set off, and before they had gone half a mile they fell in with some soldiers who
had laid down to rest on the snow with their cloaks wrapped round them. But never a guard
was established, and they made them get up. Their explanation was that those in front would not move
on. Passing by this group he sent forward the strongest of his light infantry in advance,
with orders to find out what the stoppage was. They reported that the whole army lay reposing
in such fashion. That being so, Xenophon's men had nothing for it but to bivouac in the open air
also, without fire and supperless, merely posting what pickets they could under the circumstances.
But as soon as it drew towards day, Xenophon dispatched the youngest of his men to the
sick folk behind, with orders to make them get up and force them to proceed. Meanwhile,
Charisophus had sent some of his men quartered in the village to inquire how they fared in the rear.
They were overjoyed to see them, and handed over the sick folk to them to carry into camp.
While they themselves continued their march forward, and ere twenty furlongs were passed,
reached the village in which Charisophus was quartered. As soon as the two divisions were met,
the resolution was come to that it would be safe to billet the regiments throughout the villages.
Charisophus remained where he was, while the rest drew lots for the villages in sight,
and then, with their several detachments, marched off to their respective destinations.
It was here that Polycrates, an Athenian and captain of a company, asked for leave of absence.
He wished to be off on a quest of his own, and putting himself at the head of the active men
of the division, he ran to the village which had been allotted to Xenophon. He surprised within it
the villagers with their headmen, and seventeen young horses which were being reared as a tribute
for the king, and, last of all, the headman's own daughter, a young bride only eight days wed.
Her husband had gone off to chase hares, and so he escaped being taken with the other villagers.
The houses were underground structures, with an aperture like the mouth of a well by which to
enter, but they were broad and spacious below. The entrance for the beasts of burden was dug out,
but the human occupants descended by a ladder. In these dwellings were to be found goats and
sheep and cattle, and cocks and hens, with their various progeny. The flocks and herds were all
reared under cover upon green food. There were stores within of wheat and barley and vegetables,
and wine made from barley in great big bowls. The grains of barley-malt lay floating in the
beverage up to the lip of the vessel, and reeds lay in them, some longer, some shorter, without
joints. When you were thirsty, you must take one of these into your mouth and suck. The beverage,
without admixture of water, was very strong, and offered delicious flavor to certain palates,
but the taste must be acquired. Xenophon made the headman of the village his guest at supper,
and bade him keep a good heart. So far from robbing him of his children, they would fill
his house full of good things in return for what they took before they went away. Only he must set
them an example, and discover some blessing or other for the army, until they found themselves
with another tribe. To this he readily assented, and with the utmost cordiality showed them the
cellar where the wine was buried. For this night, then, having taken up their several quarters as
described, they slumbered in the midst of plenty, one and all, with the headman under watch and
ward, and his children with him safe in sight. But on the following day, Xenophon took the headman,
and set off to Charysippus, making a round of the villages, and at each place turning in to visit
the different parties. Everywhere alike he found them faring sumptuously and merrymaking.
There was not a single village where they did not insist on setting a breakfast before them,
and on the same table were spread half a dozen dishes at least—lamb, kid, pork, veal,
fowls, with various sorts of bread, some of wheat, and some of barley. When, as an act of courtesy,
any one wished to drink his neighbor's health, he would drag him to the big bowl, and when there
he must duck his head and take a long pull, drinking like an ox. The headman, they insisted
everywhere, must accept as a present whatever he liked to have. But he would accept nothing,
except where he aspired any of his relations, when he made a point of taking them off, him or her,
with himself. When they reached Charysippus, they found a similar scene. There, too,
the men were feasting in their quarters, garlanded with wisps of hay and dry grass,
and Armenian boys were playing the part of waiters in barbaric costumes, only they had
to point out by gesture to the boys what they were to do, like deaf and dumb. After the first
formalities, when Charysippus and Xenophon had greeted one another like bosom friends,
they interrogated the headman in common, by means of the Persian-speaking interpreter.
"'What was the country?' they asked. He replied, "'Armenia.'
"'And again, for whom are the horses being bred?'
"'They are tribute for the king,' he replied.
"'And the neighboring country?'
"'It's the land of the Chalabees,' he said, and he described the road which led to it.
So for the present Xenophon went off, taking the headman back with him to his household and
friends. He also made him present of an oldish horse which he had got. He had heard that the
headman was a priest of the sun, and so he could fatten up the beast and sacrifice him.
Otherwise he was afraid it might die outright, for it had been injured by the long marching.
For himself he took his pick of the colts, and gave a colt apiece to each of his fellow
generals and officers. The horses here were smaller than the Persian horses, but much
more spirited. It was here, too, that their friend the headman explained to them how they
should wrap small bags or sacks around the feet of the horses and other cattle when marching
through the snow, for without such precautions the creatures sank up to their bellies.
Number 6
When a week had passed, on the eighth day Xenophon delivered over the guide, that is
to say the village headman, to Charisophus. He left the headman's household safe behind
in the village, with the exception of his son, a lad in the bloom of youth. This boy
was entrusted to Episthenes of Amphipolis to guard. If the headman proved himself a
good guide, he was to take away his son also at his departure. They finally made his house
the repository of all the good things they could contrive to get together. Then they
broke up their camp and commenced to march, the headman guiding them through the snow
unfettered. When they had reached the third stage, Charisophus flew into a rage with him,
because he had not brought them to any villages. The headman pleaded that there were none in
this part. Charisophus struck him, but forgot to bind him. And the end of it was that the
headman ran away in the night and was gone, leaving his son behind him. This was the sole
ground of difference between Charisophus and Xenophon during the march, this combination
of ill-treatment and neglect in the case of the guide. As to the boy, Episthenes conceived
a passion for him, and took him home with him, and found in him the most faithful of friends.
After this, they marched seven stages at the rate of five parisangs a day, to the banks of
the river Phasis, which is a hundred feet broad, and thence they marched another couple of stages,
ten parisangs. But at the pass leading down into the plain, there appeared in front of them a
mixed body of Chalibes and Talchians and Phasianians. When Charisophus caught sight of
the enemy on the pass, at a distance of about three or four miles, he ceased marching, not
caring to approach the enemy with his troops in column, and he passed down the order to the others
to deploy their companies to the front, that the troops might form into line.
As soon as the rear-guard had come up, he assembled the generals and officers,
and addressed them. The enemy, as you see, are in occupation of the mountain pass. It is time we
should consider how we are to make the best fight to win it. My opinion is, that we should give
orders to the troops to take their morning meal, whilst we deliberate whether we should cross the
My opinion," said Cleonor,
is that as soon as we have breakfasted, we should arm for the fight and attack the enemy without
loss of time, for if we fritter away to-day, the enemy who are now content to look at us
will grow bolder, and with their growing courage, depend upon it, others more numerous will join
them. After him, Xenophon spoke. This, he said, is how I see the matter. If fight we must,
let us make preparation to sell our lives dearly, but if we desire to cross with the greatest ease,
the point to consider is, how we may get the fewest wounds and throw away the smallest
number of good men. Well then, that part of the mountain which is visible,
stretches nearly seven miles. Where are the men posted to intercept us?
Except at the road itself, they are nowhere to be seen. It is much better to try, if possible,
to steal a point of this desert mountain unobserved, and before they know where we are,
secure the prize, than to fly at a strong position at an enemy thoroughly prepared,
since it is much easier to march up a mountain without fighting than to tramp along a level
when assailants are at either hand, and provided he has not to fight, a man will see what lies at
his feet much more plainly even at night than in broad daylight in the midst of battle, and a
rough road to feet that roam in peace may be pleasanter than a smooth surface with the bullets
whistling about your ears. Nor is it so impossible, I take it, to steal a march, since it is open to
us to go by night, when we cannot be seen, and fall back so far that they will never notice us.
In my opinion, however, if we make a feint of attacking here, we shall find the mountain chain
all the more deserted elsewhere, since the enemy will be waiting for us here in thicker swarm.
But what right have I to be drawing conclusions about stealing in your presence, Corycephus?
For you Lacedaemonians, as I have often been told, you who belong to the peers,
practice stealing from your boyhood up, and it is no disgrace but honourable rather to steal,
except such things as the law forbids, and in order, I presume, to stimulate your sense of
secretiveness, and to make you master thieves, it is lawful for you further to get a whipping if
you are caught. Now, then, you have a fine opportunity of displaying your training,
but take care we are not caught stealing over the mountain, or we shall catch it ourselves.
For all that, retorted Corycephus, I have heard that you Athenians are clever hands at stealing
the public monies, and that too though there is a fearful risk for the person so employed,
but, I am told, it is your best men who are addicted to it. If it is your best men who are
thought worthy to rule, so it is a fine opportunity for yourself also, Xenophon,
to exhibit your education. And I, replying Xenophon, am ready to take the rear division
as soon as we have supped, and seize the mountain chain. I have already got guides,
for the light troops laid an ambuscade, and seized some of the cut-purse vagabonds who hung on our
rear. I am further informed by them that the mountain is not inaccessible, but is grazed by
goats and cattle, so that if we can once get hold of any portion of it, there will be no difficulty
as regards our animals. They can cross. As to the enemy, I expect they will not even wait for us
any longer, when they once see us on a level with themselves on the heights, for they do not even at
present care to come down and meet us on fair ground."
Charisophus answered,
But why should you go and leave your command in the rear? Send others, rather, unless a band of
volunteers will present themselves. Thereupon Aristonomus the Methydrian came forward with
some heavy infantry, and Nicomachus the Oetian with another body of light troops, and they made
an agreement to kindle several watch-fires as soon as they held the heights. The arrangements made,
they breakfasted, and after breakfast Charisophus advanced the whole army ten furlongs closer
towards the enemy, so as to strengthen the impression that he intended to attack them at
that point. But as soon as they had supped and night had fallen, the party under orders set off
and occupied the mountain, while the main body rested where they were. Now as soon as the enemy
perceived that the mountain was taken, they banished all thought of sleep, and kept many
watch-fires blazing through the night. But at break of day Charisophus offered sacrifice,
and began advancing along the road, while the detachment which held the mountain advanced
Paripassu by the high ground. The larger mass of the enemy, on his side, remained still on the
mountain pass, but a section of them turned to confront the detachment on the heights.
Before the main bodies had time to draw together, the detachment on the height came to close
quarters, and the Helens were victorious and gave chase. Meanwhile, the light division of
the Helens, issuing from the plain, were rapidly advancing against the serried lines of the enemy,
whilst Charisophus followed up with his heavy infantry at quick march. But the enemy on the
road no sooner saw their higher division being worsted than they fled, and some few of them
were slain, and a vast number of wicker shields were taken, which the Helens hacked to pieces
with their short swords and rendered useless. So when they had reached the summit of the pass,
they sacrificed, and set up a trophy, and ascending into the plain,
reached villages abounding in good things of every kind.