Phelles, wake up! Theyre here!

yelled Aziru as he shook the figure sleeping in the cool, dimly lit tent. What, what, who? asked the young man trying to make sense of what was happening as he climb from a deep restful sleep into this world. Egyptians! They are here! We have to go now! Phelles sat up on his bed made of a blanket thrown over a small pile of straw. Aziru was running about the tent gathering items. Leaving the haze of sleep, Phelles quickly stood up when he realized what was being said and what was meant. He almost lost his balance as he took his first step towards Aziru. He was still groggy and confused from the lack of sleep from the previous night as he struggled to understand what was said had happened. What do you mean they are here? he asked Aziru. Aziru had sat down to tie padded leather around his forearms. Without stopping his task, Aziru answered, They are here. They came from the valleys. They are approaching this plain. From the valley? I thought that everybody said that only a fool would come that way, Phelles said with a look of great concern. They werent supposed to be here for at least another day. Well, said Aziru looking up from finishing the task of lacing up his sandals, We should have acted faster in leaving. It is too late now. Get your gear. Phelles thought of the preceding days as he gathered his gear. He thought of how the city was put on alert with the news of the approach of Menkheperre and his army. He thought of how all of the men of the town of fighting age were rounded up and forced to join the military camp set up on the plain outside of his town. His thoughts drifted to that of his mother, his father and his young wife. He had wanted to run but had to find a way to bring them with him. He wanted to move his family to the relative safety of Ur. He would have had to taken them to Jericho first and then continue on from there with one of the many caravans. Alone, he could have made an easy escape but had stayed for their sake. He knew that if Menkheperre won, his army would rape, pillage, and plunder as all victors did. He couldnt let that happen to them. Both men rushed to the tents opening when they finished gathering their tools of destruction. Phelles squinted as the bright morning sunlight seared into his retina. He stopped at the opening for a few moments blinking his eyes to help them to become used to the light. Since he had a makeshift spear in his right arm and a leather shield from the kings armory in his left, he rubbed his right forearm across his eyes. Things came into focus as he followed Aziru through the maze of tents of different sizes and styles. Men, women, children, and animals were running in different directions. In the distance on a hill overlooking the plain, was his city. Phelles could see figures moving around on the ramparts of the city walls; he wondered if his family was among the people; he wondered if he would make them proud. Phelles coughed from the dust rising into the air. There was motion everywhere he looked as Aziru and he worked their way to the edge of the camp facing towards the mountains in the west. Phelles had been scared and worried about the feared conflict. He had hoped that it wouldnt come to this and now that it was here, he wasnt sure how he felt. This changed as both young men reached the edge of the encampment; he froze in awe of the scene. Before them was the mass of the Canaanite troops were in various stages of trying to get organized. They had drilled to assemble in a different direction and had not counted on Menkheperre coming from the direction of the Pass of Aruna. Men were running everywhere. Officers standing by their respective standards and their lieutenants were moving throughout the mob of running and milling bodies were shouting directions and pointing to where they now

needed to form. Drums were beating and horns were blowing. Dust clouds rose from all of the movement and hung in the air. A unit of chariots passed in front of the two young friends. They had stopped not because of the chariots or the scene of the phalanxes forming before them but because of the sight of what lay beyond this mass of orchestrated confusion. On the higher ground stood Menkheperres forces in perfect formation and they were moving towards the Canaanites in a steady pace. They had made a daring thrust through the Pass of Aruna the day before, arriving just after nightfall. They had spent the night resting in complete confidence that their movement had been done without detection while the Canaanites spent the night fitfully searching in the other direction. In the morning, before anyone had noticed, twenty thousand well trained and rested, seasoned troops quickly got ready and formed up for the attack. Phelles watched as the four well formed divisions moved in perfect unison. In front of the main force was a unit of chariots. He marveled at how the whole mass moved as one unit in contrast with the jumbled mob he was part of as he walked towards his unit. He looked at the Egyptians. They were all wearing knee length kilts. Their shields all were of the same shape and made of cow hide. Each soldier carried a spear. They all looked alike from this distance. The only discernable difference from where Phelles stood was the color of the individual soldiers menes. Each division had their own distinctive color to the stripes on the head clothes. In comparison, his own unit seemed like a disorganized gathering of misfits. All wore the clothes that they had. Their weaponry was a butcher knife, a hoe, a pitchfork, slings, clubs, and a scythe, whatever they could find. Phelles spear was a staff with a knife tied to the end with leather straps. He did get a short stabbing sword from the armory. He kept his eye on Menkheperres forces as he formed up into one of the four phalanxes. The Canaanites forces were still a jumbled mass when the Egyptians were within an arrow shot away. He had just got into formation when there was a sudden blast of horns and heavy drumming from the Egyptian side. A huge roar came from the Egyptian divisions as they increased their pace to a fast trot. The unit of chariots divided into two to move out around the Canaanite flanks. A driver held the reins while another threw javelins or shot arrows into the Canaanite phalanxes. Terror struck many, most stood their ground while others started to run towards the camp or city wall. Phelles watched in horror as many of the runners were quickly run down and dispatched by the Egyptian chariots. Others who were debating whether to stay or run made their decision when they saw the ease with which the chariots mopped up those who ran or did not make it to the phalanxes. There was another blast of horns as a sudden downpour of arrows slammed into the rows in front of Phelles. He just stared as men fell to the ground. The sound of the horns and drums continued as the Egyptian divisions collided with Phelles phalanx. Horn blasts, drums, and screams filled the air as the hand to hand combat started. It had turned into a shoving match between the two armies. Only the first few ranks swung weapons; the ranks behind just pushed. Phelles and Aziru were in the fifth rank from the front. Many of the Egyptians had thrown their spears right before impact and were now using their swords, maces, or battle axes and they did with skill. Phelles saw from his position an individual being struck several times in his head with an Egyptian battle ax. He could see that the mans head had been horribly mutilated but continued to be struck because the man couldnt fall down because of the pressure of the two armies shoving. It was hot. Everyone was coated in sweat and dust. Screaming and yelling from all over continued. Egyptian horns and drums continued to fill the air with their macabre music. Chariots continued to drive around sending their missiles into the formation of Canaanites. Phelles just

kept shoving forward. The dead and dying could not fall to the ground; if they did, they would have been trampled by the thousands of men pushing towards each other. He was scared and adrenaline flooded his body. He just did what he could and pushed forward while watching the stabbing, hacking, and slashing now only a couple of ranks away. He wanted to runaway and now. He couldnt. He was held in position by the mass of men huddling together for protection and pushing forward. He looked over to Aziru and saw that an arrow was protruding from the side of his head just above his ear. It seemed to be so unreal to Phelles. Azirus head was leaning back and to the left. Azirus mouth hung open. There was no sign of life except the movement of his body from the jolting of the formation in its quest to push through the Egyptian line. Phelles watched his life long friends body jolting in the mob. He just stared at Aziru. It seemed almost comical; his friends head just bobbing with that stick coming from his temple and the small stream of blood flowing from the wound. His attention was drawn by something flying by his head and sinking into the man in front. The man screamed as the bronze point of the arrow ripped into his rib. His scream was lost in the din of horn blasts, drumming, and shouting. Phelles looked over to where the arrow had come and saw chariots driving by. Suddenly, he felt the pressure behind him drop. He looked over and saw Aziru finally fall to the ground. He turned and saw huge masses of his phalanx drop their weapons and run. He looked at Azirus crumpled body lying with the others. He saw a huge body of men heading for Megiddo and he decided to join them. He tried to run while holding onto his spear and shield but found it to be a chore so he threw them to the ground. He felt so much better when the air hit his sweat drenched body and it helped to invigorate his legs. He looked behind him and saw the Egyptians were still busy with what remained of the Canaanite army and camp. He knew that he had a great chance to make his escape. Running towards the city gate, he saw that they were still closed. Men were pounding on the great wooden gate and screaming to be let in. The gate remained closed. Phelles just fell to his knees before the crowd of men at the gate and thought of the inevitable. He noticed for the first time all of the blood splatters that covered his shoulders and arms. He thought of all that he had seen, he thought of his friend and the way he laid on the ground with that stick protruding from his temple. He had never felt so helpless at that moment. He thought of his beautiful wife and cried while praying to God. Please, please, help me Yahweh, please. Suddenly, he heard some new yelling from the wall and turned to look. The men who had been standing at the gate were pointing up to the ramparts. His tear stained eyes looked up and saw that the people on top had tied linen sheets together and were lowering them so that the men trapped outside could climb up to safety. He felt energized with hope as he stood up to run over to get his turn. He thanked Yahweh with a truly hopeful tone to his voice. Men were climbing up the many ropes of cloth along the wall. He finally got a hold of the cloth rope when he felt a sudden sharp, searing pain rip into his right kidney. He looked down and saw the arrow sticking from his side. He fell to his left side. The pain was unbearable. He laid there trying to catch his breath and saw the chariot archer further down the wall taking aim at another. Why Yahweh, when will you put an end to this? he whispered softly as he closed his eyes and passed out from the pain never to wake up again.