by this hellish impact.  The shouts and yells emitted are deafening.  There is an unearthly clashing of steel weapons on bronze armor.  Every now and then a shrill, sharp cry tells where a soldier has been stabbed, and has gone down in the press, probably trampled to death instantly.  In this way the two writhing, thrusting phalanxes continue to push on one another at sheer deadlock, until a cool observer might well wonder whether the battle would not end simply with mutual extermination.

[*]Any sudden attempt to extend your line beyond the foe’s, so as to outflank him, would probably have produced so much confusion in your own phalanx as to promise certain disaster.  Of course for an inferior force to accept battle by thinning its line, to be able by extending to meet the long lines of the enemy, would involve the greatest risk of being broken through at the center.  The best remedy for inferior numbers was manifestly to decline a decisive battle.

94.  The Climax and End of the Battle.—­Boot look away now from the center, towards the two wings.  What the generals of both contending armies have feared and warned against has come to pass.  Every hoplite is admirably covered by his great shield on his left side; but his right is unprotected.  It is almost impossible to resist the impulse to take a step toward the right to get under the cover of a comrade’s shield.  And he in turn has been edging to the right likewise.  The whole army ahs in fact done so, and likewise the whole phalanx of the enemy.  So after a quarter of an hour of brisk fighting, the two hosts, which began by joining with lines exactly facing each other, have each edged along so much that each overlaps the other on the right wing, thus: 

+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+
| | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | |
| | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | |
+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+

What will happen now is easy to predict with assurance up to a certain point.  The overlapping right wings will each promptly turn the left flank of their enemies, and falling upon the foe front and rear catch them almost helpless.  The hoplite is an admirable soldier when standing shoulder to shoulder with his comrades facing his foe; but once beset in the rear he is so wedged in by the press that it is next to impossible for him to turn and fight effectively.  Either he will be massacred as he stands or the panic will spread betimes, and simultaneously both left wings will break formation and hurry off the field in little better than flight.

Now will come the real test of discipline and deliberate valor.  Both centers are holding stoutly.  Everything rests on the respective victorious right wings.  Either they will foolishly forget that there is still fighting elsewhere on the field, and with ill-timed huzzaing pursue the men they have just routed, make for their camp to plunder it, or worse still, disperse to spoil the slain; or, if they can