The Philistine Warrior (36 page)

For months before all this, most especially since I became Sheren of Askelon, I’d devoted all my powers to strengthening my chariot forces. Now I had a full regiment of chariots, a force larger than any in Askelon’s history, larger than all of the other chariot units in Philistia put together—and my men were well trained. So I refused to see them wasted by the interference of Ittai—or Warati. I knew

that, sooner or later, the Danites would commit themselves too far south, or make some other strategic error. They had no unified leadership, after all, since we’d captured Samson—and even
he
had united their various clans only for a few weeks before his downfall. Furthermore, they weren’t accustomed to warfare on the open plains. And so, whenever they made their mistake—whatever it might be—I’d be waiting for them, ready to spring my trap!

Unfortunately, while I waited, the situation grew progressively worse. Soon the Danites held all of
Canaan
north of the
Sorek
River
—except for the city of
Ekron
itself, and that they had under siege, as I’d known they would. Yet the Danites began to tire of waiting for Ekron to starve, and so they pushed on south, leaving only just enough troops around Ekron to keep Ittai penned up.

Thus they had now made their first mistake—dividing their forces, some left around Ekron, the rest heading south. Starting from Timnath, they moved to Azekah—of sad memory—and finally to Libnah, taking and holdling both towns, plus all of the surrounding territory. In this way, they cut us off entirely from our trade routes inland toward
Damascus
, and they also threatened the hinterland of
Gath
. Now we had to worry about another possible Judaean invasion, inspired by Danite success—along with the Canaanite rebellions that would doubtless come with it. With iron weapons captured in Timnath and elsewhere, with Canaanite allies, the Danites were indeed a formidable enemy.

Prospects for relieving Ekron seemed dim after this extension of Danite power to the south and east. And with every advance, they showed just how right King Ekosh had been. We’d failed to strike in force when the time was ripe, and now they held the initiative. The possibility of an alliance between Dan and some power to the north or east could not be dismissed any longer. All of our great cities had been caught unprepared—except for my own Askelon.

Despite all that, as I say, I declined to send my chariots out of Askelon. For one thing, the detestable Warati was in command at the front, not only of his own expeditionary force from
Gaza
, but also of
Gath
’s troops, and even of some contingents from
Ashdod
. Almost all of
Philistia
’s first-line infantry—except for Ekron’s besieged

forces—were under Warati’s control, leaving only some garrisons and militia behind, along with training camps for new recruits; and some other infantry—principally from my own Askelon. He even controlled some chariot forces…except for my charioteers!

To repeat: I was not ready to enter the fray, Warati or no Warati. I wanted to fight on ground of my own choosing, and I knew

that Warati—and almost all the other top generals—would waste my charioteers again, as, indeed, Warati was wasting those whom he then had under his command—chariot contingents from Gath, primarily.

But then, to my relief—and joy—the moment for me to go into action finally arrived! It was when the surging—and bumbling—Danites at long last decided to
by
-
pass
Warati’s army, based on the city of
Mareshah
. Once again, the enemy was motivated by impatience; they simply didn’t understand that it’s impossible to wage war on the open plain without strong chariot forces—and so they chose to wander around, leaving strong Philistine forces in their rear: those of Sheren Ittai in Ekron, and those of Sheren Warati at Mareshah; the enemy didn’t even scout around, didn’t even bother to find out what Askelon might have up her sleeve! They were after blood and booty, and had no concept of a rational campaign. In their mountains, none of this made much difference; but on the plains, their choices were bound to be fatal.

Finally, realizing that they could not simply ignore Warati’s army, they turned on him in a gigantic flanking movement: they went south and
west
to
Lachish
, cutting Warati’s communications with
Gath
. From
Lachish
, they could push on to Eglon or to
Gath
—and the very existence of two such options, they must have hoped, would keep us off balance. Or they could do the most rational thing, and that was to attack Mareshah from the
south
, hoping to disperse Warati’s army; or at least force it into Mareshah, where they could besiege him—and then they could spread their terror all over central Philistia, toward Eglon, Gath, and elsewhere.

Attacking Mareshah was indeed their best option—but only given what they knew about our dispositions; and, oddly enough, they took that option…odd because they usually avoided rationality.

Yet their (as I say) “rational” solution to their problem (again, as I have suggested already) would not have made sense—even to them—if they had known anything at all about my regiment of chariots. They had clearly committed themselves too far south, away from their bases and their hills. Now I had them where I wanted them.

In a forced march, my regiment reached Ziklag, a town lying to the south and almost to the
east
of
Lachish
. I had pulled off a wide, circling movement—and the Danites, lacking mounted scouts, remained unaware of my new location, so swift and secretive were my charioteers. For that matter, neither Warati nor even Maoch and Zaggi knew where I was. I was afraid that somehow or other my scheme would leak out if I let them in on it—or they would try to run the show in their own way…and I knew what that would mean: the misuse of my charioteers. Warati was ignoring, or mishandling, the chariots he’d brought from
Gath
, after all; why should I provide him with more chariots to squander?

So my regiment simply disappeared from the sight of both friend and foe. Naturally, I sealed off Ziklag from the rest of
Philistia
while I was there—rounding up all merchant caravans and shepherds, with their flocks, for example—so word of my progress could not spread to the outside world.

My scouts then reported that the Danites and their Canaanite allies had committed themselves
northeast
of
Lachish
! They’d been just wise enough to take their best option, given their presuppositions—that is, to attack Warati at Mareshah, rather than continue to push past him to
Gath
or Eglon, courses which would have left their rear open to that same Warati. But their tactical choice, correct though it was, constituted even so a strategic blunder—as I’ve already pointed out. Not only had they opened themselves up to my attack, but they’d lost their freedom of movement, on account of being (or soon being) locked in combat with Warati. They could not easily extricate themselves from the Mareshah area. Best of all, their

new rear now was to their
south
, that is, right where I was about to appear. My opportunity was at hand!

Late that afternoon, as the desert sand glowed red in the sunset, we started out northward for the enemy. I’d picked up some infantry in Ziklag, and they were now mounted on my chariots. Their long spears cast pointed shadows as chariot followed chariot, wheels swaying in the tracks of vehicles ahead. We traveled through the night, avoiding settlements such as Debir, using the stars for navigation, like the ships of
Tyre
at sea.

Before daybreak, we stopped at an oasis near
Lachish
to refresh and prepare for battle. Shortly after sunrise, my scouts reported back to me. As I had hoped, the Danite army, its rear toward us, was before Mareshah and had now—even as we spoke—become engaged in battle with Warati’s men. Immediately, I ordered mount up, and we started off on the final leg of our journey, three miles to the scene of struggle. With my hand-picked companions, I rode at the head of my regiment. Major Jaita was my second in command.

As we approached a rise in the ground, one of our captains pulled abreast of me: “Lord Phicol—our scout—there, less than a quarter mile!” We saw the excited man riding hard to meet us, waving frantically for us to halt. I gave the signal and my regiment slowly, quietly—for they knew we were near the enemy—pulled rein.

I dashed ahead to meet the scout. Smiling broadly, he greeted me: “My Lord, over the rise—the Danite camp—their supplies—their camp followers, with nothing but a small guard!” He went on to describe the camp in more detail, catching his breath at last.

Major Jaita remarked, “we could overrun the camp in minutes.”

“But I don’t want to lose any time—or horses. Warati will need our help, and the Danite army is the real prize,” I answered. “Have one half of the infantry dismount, form up, and storm the camp. Destroy everything we can’t take with us; then set up a roadblock—the Danites facing Warati will soon enough want to retreat in this direction.”

“Yes, sir!” Jaita rode off to confer with the infantry commander. In a few minutes, many of our footsoldiers were

marching toward the enemy camp. Before long, we heard Danite pickets raising an alarm; no longer did my charioteers need to remain quiet; we began to move.

“We’ll circle around the camp,” I ordered. “We can’t pause at all, because our infantry’s attack on that camp may alert the enemy’s main forces up ahead.” My chariot men were itching for action. Their vehicles, made lighter by the absence of so many infantry passengers, thundered off in column of troops. While I watched them go, I received the infantry’s report: the camp would soon be theirs. With that taken care of, I and my staff raced after the main column.

Within minutes, we caught up with them; soon we heard the noise of conflict ahead of us. I took my staff up another rise to a point of vantage.

“There they are!” Jaita exclaimed. On a flat stretch of ground below our knoll, the Danites could be seen, pressing Warati’s forces hard. Before long, his Philistines might have to retreat behind the walls of Mareshah, leaving the enemy free to tear up the countryside around Gath; free also to promote Canaanite rebellion—and, worst of all, someday to ally themselves with the Judaeans…or even Assyria! Except they hadn’t counted on my mounted troopers. We rode back to the regiment.

“Form into squadrons,” I commanded. With perfect, breathtaking precision, my troops performed that maneuver: the lead troop and the middle troop halting, the troops behind each then faning out until they were in line. Thus I had two squadrons, one behind the other. “First squadron to my right; second to my left as facing Dan!” The rear squadron, with no turns to make, had the shorter route, and soon the two formed at one instant a line of squadrons from the file.

“Nothing in reserve,” I called to them. “We know where they are—no surprises in store for us! Hit them at once with everything!”

I saw our images of Dagon rising from the banner chariots of each squadron. “Regiment! Forward at the walk!” I commanded.

We came over the rise; only now could the Danites see our maneuver through their own dust, and hear us over their own battle noise. “Regiment, forward at the trot!” I called. Horns blowing, men

cheering, now we
wanted
the enemy to appreciate our array, shaking their morale!