Spear and Shield: A Saba AAR

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They call us Hanatim Kushim, levy spearmen from the lands of Ethiopia. They gave me a helmet, a shield, and a spear. They told me that starting that day, I am no longer a tiller of the land. I am a soldier for the great King.

This is not a story of lords and noblemen. I had no desire for glory in battle nor did I expect to survive the battles that came. However, survive I did and glory I achieved. The empire of the Saba grew and I as a man grew with it. So this is my story, a story of a man with a spear and a shield.



Notes: This AAR is being reposted from the Europa Barbarorum forums at the request of Mouzafphaerre. If you want to read the whole thing instead of waiting for me to update here, you can simply click on the link in my signature.

Settings and rules: VH/M, huge setting, no banners or green arrows. Auto-win only used when odds are 2-1 or more in my favor. AAR updates will contain only battles that my unit participated in.

Chapter One: Lucky to be Alive

My name is Dawit, son of Desta born in the spring of the year 286. I tilled the land with my father and brothers in the lands of Diamat. My mother passed away when I was born, perhaps that is why my father has been cold to me since I can remember. The light-skinned men came to our village a year ago. They told the village leader that men were needed to fight, as the great king will reclaim the land that was once his ancestors. I was sent by my father, alongside my elder brother Dahnay, to serve this man. His name was Yazil Il Watar, the great king of Saba.

When we arrived in Maryab, my brother and I were separated. He was much stronger and larger than I was, perhaps they had better use for him. Training began soon afterwards. The light-skinned men yelled at us, all Ethiopians, in a language we could not understand. But it was simple enough. We ran through the sand under the desert sun until we collapsed. We thrust sticks at each other until we were covered in bruises. After a few months, they gave us a helmet, a shield, and a spear.

In the spring of 272, the great king arrived and led us out of the shelter of the city and into the sand. I could understand some of their language now. For example: march, stop, turn, kill, eat, and sleep. That was pretty much all that was required. We marched through the sand day after day until a small city appeared out of nowhere. I heard the name Tamane and assumed it was its name. After a season, we attacked.

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We were outnumbered, but the great king told us that the gods were smiling on us that day. The unit I was assigned to followed closely behind some skirmishers manning the ram. As we marched forward, some arrows flew in. The man to my left, I did not know his name, fell to the ground with an arrow through his neck. I panicked, but I was stuck in the middle and had nowhere to run. More arrows, a couple more fell, but I did not see them.

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The rams hammered against the wall in front of us and soon, it fell. Our commander shouted something and charged forward, so we followed.

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We entered the city and killed four Ethiopians who survived the stones from our slings and hurriedly gathered into our lines. I was in the second row and I saw a large number of the enemy march towards us. None of the skirmishes moved to help. The king and his son’s bodyguards stood apathetically in the distance. The enemy charged into us and four men in front of me died instantly so suddenly I was facing the enemy. It was like looking into the mirror, his eyes showing just as much fear as I’m sure my own did. I wanted to run, but instead I stabbed. I stabbed at anything that moved. We were inexperienced, we didn’t know how to fight, but we stabbed and stabbed and stabbed. Finally, the skirmishers leveled their spears and charged into the flank and rear of the enemy, relieving some attention from us.

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We were bloodied and exhausted, but at last the enemy, surrounded on all sides, broke and tried to run. We followed them and killed them to the last man.

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The king called it a heroic victory. We killed three for every one of us lost. He called us valiant heroes fit for legends. I call myself lucky to be alive.

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I gave this a quick read in the EB AAR thread and thought is was Awesome! I'll go through it more throughly now that it's here.

Chapter Two: A Reason to Live

The king wasted no time and led us to straight to Sabata. He did not try diplomacy and immediately laid siege to the city. I began to believe that this man was completely insane.

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He led us into battle against a foe twice our numbers with experience, better arms, and dare I say, better general.

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The enemy sallied forth and our great king ordered us to run, not for our lives, but for a hill. We barely made it to the top, our lines in complete chaos, but the enemy even more so. Our archers have killed their general and the enemy, completely confused, attacked us one by one only to be surrounded and slaughtered in droves. I was not scared this time and I stood my ground with my brothers.

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We chased the enemy into the town square where they put up a last stand. None of them survived. The king once again called us heroes and how we were invincible, but I have my doubts. If that arrow did not slay their general… well, perhaps the gods really were on our side.

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The king gave us a great feast the following night. It was the first time I had eaten meat since my eldest brother was married four years before and it was just as delicious as I had remembered. The light-skinned noblemen laughed at us as we licked every morsel off our fingers, but we didn’t care. Chances were good that this would be the last meat we would ever taste. The king entered the hall and we all cheered. The noblemen in the front raised their goblets of wine for him while we in the back just shouted and hooted. He began to talk, but I don’t remember about what. My attention was captured by a girl standing behind the great king.

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She was completely covered in the finest fabrics with bracelets, anklets, and all manners of golden finery hanging from her head to toe. Her eyes were dark green. I have never seen such eyes before. I stared at her as long as I could, tattooing her beauty into my memory so that when the time comes that I am dying, I can conjure up her image and die in peace.

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We were soon on the move again to capture a city named Ubar, a long march through the desert to the east. We arrived at the town exhausted and short on supplies, but this time the advantage in numbers was ours as two units of Guisum Aravim ‘im Garzenim boosted our numbers. They carried axes instead of spears. Maybe that’s why they looked down on us. The boasted about how many men they will slay, how many trophies they will take, and how they can cleave an elephant in half with a single swing. I remained silent, for they have not seen battle as I have. They will soon learn the horrors.

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The king assigned us with two bands of light-skinned archers with a detachment of cavalry to make sure we don’t run. The king and his son, as well as two full units of slingers and axe men, stood ready at the western entrance to the city. The archers immediately began to fire into the enemy and tricked the enemy into charging straight into our spears while the archers swung around behind and shot them in the back.


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They broke instantly and we left a trail of bodies into the city.

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The axe men who boasted of their courage were apparently not lying, as when we entered the city square, we saw them locked in pitch battle with a seemingly endless number of spearmen while stones and arrows rained upon them. Almost half of them lay dead by the time we engaged the enemy slingers, but they still fought on. The general and his bodyguards were nowhere in sight.

With the axe men breaking through the blockade to the east, the enemy’s noblemen tried to plug the gap but instead ran right into our spears while arrows pierced through their armor from behind.

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With the battle already won, the king and his son finally committed to the battle, slaughtering the exhausted and weakened foe with their swords while we moved out of their way and watched.

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Once again, we were victorious. I was still alive, perhaps by the will of the gods or perhaps, it was because I now have the will to live. I have something to fight for, if only for just another chance to see those eyes.

Good AAR! Good start, and the first person perspective is nice! One thing, though: the dates. Dawit was born in 286, and in 272 goes on campaign. Doesn't that strike you as odd? Sorry for nit-picking, I've just done a French commentary, which demands analytical behaviour.

Nice AAR. I really like first person. I find it hard to write well from that perspective. So extra kudos to you