A STAGING OF SALAMIS

Thinking that a break from the various concerns about and considerations of cataphracts, elephants, hoplites and pikemen, as well as a sort of sabbatical from the study of De Bellis Multitudinis (DBM), L’Art de la Guerre (ADLG), Tactica II, and similar rules might prove refreshing and restorative, as the final week of 2019 made its inevitable and all too rapid approach, I turned my attention to the subject of ancient naval warfare. [1] Having no experience whatsoever in staging wargames of this variety, the prudent course of action would have been to start slow and small, perhaps with a handful of triremes or quinqueremes on each side, so that I could get my “sea legs.” However and typically, being a long-standing enthusiast of larger actions, battles, and scenarios, I decided to skip this gradual as well as sensible approach and dive, as it were, right into the deep end. For my first wargame of the new year then, I decided to attempt a reconstruction and refight of Salamis. [2]

Interpretations and Options

In the April 2003 issue of Wargames Illustrated, casual readers and faithful subscribers were treated to David Manley’s “Greek Fire and Roman Fury: Ancient Fleet Action Rules,” among other interesting content. As one might guess from the title of his submission, these rules were an adaptation of the popular American Civil War rules Fire and Fury. [3] In addition to the rules, David provided a ready-made scenario for refighting the battle of Salamis. According to the included orders of battle, the Persian fleet outnumbered the Greeks 740 ships to 340. According to the small black and white diagram on the lower right corner of page 59, the Greek fleet had the Athenian contingent on the left, the Spartan contingent in the centre, and the aphract triremes and pentakonters of the Minor States holding the right of the line. As for the Persian dispositions, well, the Ionian and Egyptian squadrons were on the right, facing the Athenians. These ships were separated from their allies by a thin but sizable and unidentified island. On the Persian left, the Phoenician and Cypriot squadrons took up station. These aphract triremes were pointed toward the squadrons of the Greek Minor States and those of the Spartans. To be certain, it would have been a relatively simple matter to use David’s rules as written and stage his version of the great naval battle. However, I was interested in finding out more about the history of the contest, so I looked for and consulted other sources. 

Two diagrams, orders of battle, and an explanatory caption of Salamis were found on pages 32-33 of Warfare in the Classical World. [4] The diagram on the left was the “big picture” illustration and showed the Egyptian squadrons being sent to block the Megarian channel. Consequently, the 75-90 Egyptian ships in the Persian fleet did not figure in the actual engagement. The tactical map on the right had a compass rose, a ground scale, and broad arrows indicating the movement of the opposing squadrons. According to the explanatory caption, the approximately 50 ships from Aegina and Megara were placed in ambush. These squadrons engaged the Ionians, who brought around 100 vessels to the battle. Evidently, the main Greek fleet (the Athenians were on the left of this deployment as well) “backed water” and drew the Persian ships, a mix of allied or subject states and Phoenicians into the narrow waters around the Pharmakousse Islands. The summary caption explained that the Phoenician admiral was “an early casualty.” As a result, there was some confusion in the Phoenician ranks. The Athenians took advantage of this and drove the enemy fleet back to Psyttaleia. Here, Greek marines landed and eliminated the Persian garrison. The Warfare summary also explained that the Corinthian squadron held off the Egyptians. As to losses, it appears that the Persians lost 200 triremes, while the Greeks lost only 40. Doing some quick calculations, it seems that the Greeks had about 220 ships in their main line of battle. There were 50 ships in the ambush force. As previously stated, the Ionians had around 100 ships, or twice the number, approximately, representing the Aeginetans and Megarians. The main force of Persians appears to have contained between 275 and 300 ships. These squadrons were probably “squeezed” as they pursued the withdrawing Greeks, so it is not unreasonable to imagine their deployment was rather deep. It is also not unreasonable to estimate that the Persians could not bring their superior numbers to bear or use them to advantage. From the diagram on page 33, it seems that the allied nations or subject states led the way, while the Phoenician squadrons followed. 

In Carnage and Culture: Landmark Battles in the Rise of Western Power, the accomplished, acclaimed, and prolific academic Victor Davis Hanson devotes an entire chapter to the study of Salamis. [5] There is a full-page map on page 45, which offers plenty of useful information to the interested if also inexperienced ancients naval wargamer. According to this diagram, the Persian fleet was arranged in three lines. The vast majority of its ships are south of Pysttaleia Island. Of the four sections identified, the Phoenicians are on the far right, while the Ionian Greeks are the second group from the left. This illustration does show the Egyptian squadron headed away from the main action. As for the Greek deployment, the Athenians are again on the left, but the allied city-states are in the centre. The Spartan contingent holds the right of the line. (This arrangement led me to wonder if there was any similarity between naval and land battles, as the position on the right was the considered the place of honour.) This diagram showed no ambush, but did indicate the Spartans sailing or rowing south and then making a sharp left turn into the Persian fleet. There was no indication of additional islands that might have disrupted or “crowded” the Persian advance, but the suggestion was there, given the placement of Pysttaleia Island. With regard to the battle itself, Professor Hanson offers the interested reader several nuggets of information. He starts on page 43 by explaining that:

Unfortunately, our ancient sources—the historian Herodotus and the playwright 

        Aeschylus [6], along with much later accounts from the Roman period 

        by Plutarch, Diodorus, and Nepos—tell us almost nothing about the battle itself, 

        but do suggest that the reconstituted Greek fleet was outnumbered by at least 

        two to one and perhaps by as much as three or even four to one. We are not sure 

        how many ships were present at the battle on either side—given prior losses at 

        the first sea battle at Artemesium weeks earlier and subsequent reinforcements—

        but there must have been somewhere between 300 and 370 Greek vessels 

        arrayed against a Persian armada of well over 600 warships.

On page 44, the noted author remarks that Salamis might hold the record for “the greatest number of combatants in any one engagement in the entire history of naval warfare.” He continues, informing that, “Most ancient observers also remark that the sailors of the Greek fleet were less experienced than those of the imperial Persian flotilla, who were veteran rowers from Phoenicia, Egypt, Asia Minor, Cyprus, and Greece itself.” The professor quotes Herodotus, who evidently spoke or wrote of “the Greek ships as being ‘heavier’ (baruteras) than any other ships.” One could surmise that because of this apparent weight, the Athenian ships were perhaps slower. On page 46, Professor Hanson estimates that, “The battle was fought for perhaps eight hours sometime between September 20 and 30, but most likely September 28.” He continues the description, noting:

By nightfall the ships of the Persian fleet were either sunk or scattered, and 

        the morale of the invading sailors lost. Most enemy vessels were sunk by 

        ramming, as Greek triremes darted in and out of the clumsy Persian formations, 

        which quickly became dispersed as national contingents operated 

        independently and in their own interests. Although in theory the fleeing enemy 

        still outnumbered the Greek fleet, the Persian armada was no longer battle 

        worthy, with more than 100,000 imperial sailors killed, wounded, missing, 

        dispersed, or sailing back across the Aegean.

Rereading and reviewing these few sources, I decided to defer to the scholarship of Professor Hanson when setting up my refight of Salamis. This is not to say, however, that I completely ignored that treatment provided in Warfare or the simple account offered by David Manley.

Rules Summary & Suggested Amendments

Rather than use or represent individual ships, David proposes squadrons which are formed into fleets. Each base (the actual dimensions may vary depending on the models employed) represents 10 actual ships. The bases are formed into squadrons, which are commanded by admirals. Fleets are made up of two or more squadrons, and are commanded by fleet admirals. Admirals are given ratings as to their overall effectiveness. Under David’s adapted rules, these ratings are poor, average, and exceptional. Squadrons are also rated for the ability and effectiveness of their crews. These ratings are elite, average, and poor. Like the original Fire and Fury rules, squadrons degrade when they suffer losses. The morale levels in this adapted set of rules are high, wavering, and crumbling. The ship data section of David’s rules is rather extensive. (I was not aware of all the different types of vessels. I had heard of triremes and quinqueremes, of course, but not of Sedekares, Dromon, and Pamphlyos.) Ship bases are assigned a number of values based on ship type. Each base has a speed, a missile and melee value, and assigned a yes or no for ram bow, towers, and cataphract, which is evidently a kind of protection for the slaves or volunteers doing the hard work of rowing. The permissible formations are basic and straightforward. I confess to being most intrigued by the kyklos, which is a defensive circle. A poor analogy might be a kind of water-based porcupine, or perhaps something like the Roman legionary testudo formation. The sequence of play is IGO-UGO, with Player A rolling for the movement of his squadrons, conducting missile fire (which is mutual and simultaneous) and then resolving melee. Player B follows the same steps. Movement is easier when the squadron is of high morale, in formation, and commanded by a competent admiral. If the unit is out of formation, if its morale is not quite so good, well then, it is rather difficult to move the way or as much as you would like to. The process and effect of missiles is abstracted. Missile values are calculated for all involved bases and a d10 is rolled. Depending on the result, the defender may or may not have their melee roll negatively adjusted. The melee process is similar in that the value of the involved ships is calculated, a d10 is rolled, modifiers are applied, and a comparison of the scores produces the result of the melee. These can range from both sides losing a stand or base and both being labeled as out of formation, to the defeated squadron losing four stands, its morale collapsing, and the squadron being eliminated as an effective fighting formation. 

Unable to resist tinkering a bit with David’s adapted rules, I drafted a handful of changes. First, I reduced the representative scale from 10 ships to a base or stand to just 8 ships per base. If one accepts 150 as the number of Athenian triremes present, as indicated in the Warfare order of battle, then 19 bases (perhaps this total can be rounded up to 20?) will be needed to model the Athenian fleet at Salamis. Thinking that there were not enough ratings of admirals, I increased these categories as well as changed their labels. Instead of just three ratings, I borrowed the leader classifications from the fairly popular IMPETVS rules. Admirals and Fleet Admirals could now be Incompetent, Poor, Fair, Exceptional, or Genius/Charismatic. As for ship crews, well, I designated four categories or ratings. Crews could be either Elite, Experienced, Trained, or Untrained. Based on the information gleaned from the explanatory caption found on page 32 of Warfare, I decided to allow backwards movement, or “backing water” in my scenario. The squadron had to be in formation to attempt this special move, however. Further, its rate or speed would be reduced to one-third of its normal speed. (Fractions rounded down.) The fifth and final change I made to David’s adapted rules was this: squadron commanders could become casualties at any stage of the fighting. This amendment was also based on the information provided in the Warfare caption. Instead of the admiral’s base being the last stand removed in a squadron, the commanding admiral could be killed, severely wounded, captured, or otherwise removed from the battle if, after the melee phase was completed, a separate roll of 2d6 resulted in doubles. A subordinate would take the former admiral’s place, but the squadron would be designated as out of formation for the remainder of the action. 

Salamis, 2020 AD

Map 1 shows how I set up my small table to refight the historic naval battle. For this very amateur attempt, I placed the Athenians on the left, the Allied City-states in the centre, and the Spartans on the right. 

The Persian fleet was arranged with the Phoenicians on the right, the Cypriots to their left, and then the Ionian contingent to their left. The various subject states were positioned on the far left of the Persian lines. I considered indicating some shoreline, but then elected not to. So that I could get some practice moving the collection of ships before missiles started flying, rams started crashing into the sides of enemy vessels or raking their oars, and contingents of marines began attacking each other, I set up the opposing fleets approximately 35 scale inches apart. It would take approximately three turns, then, before the various contingents came into contact and the actual fighting began.

Summary of the Action

The first two turns of this solo wargame were spent moving the “model” ships and squadrons closer to each other. [7] The Greek fleet, having better crews and better admirals, did very well on their command or movement rolls. In contrast, the Persian fleet suffered some less than good die rolls, which, when added to their several mediocre admirals, left some squadrons straining to keep up with their friends and neighbours. There was no exchange of missiles during these first turns, as the distance between the opposing aphract triremes was still too great. During the third turn of play, the first squadron of the Athenian fleet made contact with the leading squadron from the Phoenician contingent. Over on the right of the Greek position, the small Spartan fleet engaged the first squadron of the subject states rowing for Persia. While missiles were hurled, flung, and launched between ships, there were no casualties inflicted. Losses did come, however, with the melee phases of the third turn. Initially, the Athenians performed poorly, and lost two stands as a result. They bounced back quickly enough, though, and managed to disorder the Phoenician squadron as well as the Cypriot squadron that had joined the fight. In addition, the Phoenician squadron commander was killed during this early contest. In the centre, the Greek allied states faced off against the Ionian Greeks. Here, the battle went back and forth, but the allied states performed well and managed to inflict losses on the Ionian contingent and cause their ships to become “out of formation”. Something close to a disaster transpired on the Greek right, as the Spartans evidently forgot how talented and tough they were. Their squadrons made abysmal combat rolls versus the subject states rowing for the Persian Empire and as a result, found themselves much reduced in strength and without their fleet admiral as well, who perished in the confused fighting. As the Spartans continued to collapse (the numbers of enemy ships facing them were too large and again and again, the Spartan die rolls were terrible), the general engagement continued to develop. In the centre, the Greek allied states fought stubbornly against the Ionian squadrons. Eventually, the tide turned here in favour of the Greek allies. On the left of the line, under the watchful eye of Themistocles, the Athenians brought up their second squadron and started putting even more pressure on the Phoenician and Cypriot ships. Map 2 shows the state of the saltwater “field” at the end of the fifth turn of play. 

The Spartans have been eliminated, but by a strange development, the victorious squadron suffered a morale reversal (they rolled very badly for movement) and their crews decided that they had had enough of fighting for one day. The crews in the second squadron continued to row forward into the now open stretch of sea, but a few command and control issues meant that they could not turn the flank of the engaged Greek allies. At least not yet. Counting the dispersed allied squadron, the Persian fleet had lost 25 stands by this point. In stark contrast, the Greeks had lost just 12 stands. To be sure, the destruction of the Spartan contingent and the exposed right was a problem. 

Halfway through the next game turn, it was decided to call the contest. On the left, the Athenian squadrons destroyed the Cypriot contingent and continued to pummel the Phoenicians. This left only one full-strength Phoenician squadron and bits and pieces of a few others to defend against large numbers of Athenian triremes. In the centre, the Greek allied states captured or sank the rest of the Ionian squadron that was in contact. This action left this Persian ally with just one-third of its original strength. The Greeks now enjoyed a numerical superiority in this sector as well. Rather than shift the Persian subject state squadron around and back into the fight (a losing fight, it must be stressed), I figured that these captains and crews would have gotten wind of what was happening and, being in the open water with no enemy immediately nearby, they would have decided that discretion was indeed the better part of valour. The remaining squadron representing various subject states of the Persian Empire executed an about face and rowed, at a rather rapid pace it must be remarked, for a safe harbour. Needless to say, they were soon joined by what was left of the Phoenician and Ionian Greek contingents. 

Evaluation

As an old calendar was taken out of service and a new one prepared, history was repeated on my small tabletop. Admittedly, my amateur and abstract effort was not a true-to-the-known-or-understood-facts rerun of the historical battle, but it was a victory for the Greek side, for Greek culture and civilization. Instead of the Persian contingents being “confused” and disordered by the nature of the evidently narrow water, they were simply outfought. The glaring exception to this, of course, was the destruction of the Spartan fleet on my table. (Had I played against an actual opponent, I dare say that one of us would have had friendly “ammunition” or bragging rights for many months to come.) 

The abbreviated wargame was certainly different from my usual fare. That said, it was also fun and engaging. Indeed, I find myself rather tempted to explore this topic further. I confess to being drawn to the multiple naval engagements during the Punic Wars. Then again, I could also engineer something wherein Pompey does battle with pirates. It seems that it might be possible to combine my land-based interests with a naval aspect and thereby entertain a very large campaign game. Having sampled the “saltwater wine” of David Manley’s adapted rules, I find myself thinking about investing in a copy of Corvus, the naval rules advertised on the back cover of every issue of Slingshot arriving in the mail. 

Shifting to an assessment of David’s rules, well, it would be rather bold of me to offer an opinion or opinions given my lack of experience and given that this was my first attempt at sailing (or rowing) solo. At the same time, however, I would be remiss were I not to offer at least some comments and remarks. Here goes then. David’s rules work, but they take some getting used to. The IGO-UGO format was familiar, but the abstraction of having all ship bases count as being in contact when only a portion of either squadron was actually touching was a bit difficult to grasp or accept. For example, near the declared end of my refight, something like 16 bases of Athenians were fighting against a much smaller number of Phoenicians and Cypriots. I kept wondering or asking myself why the “uninvolved” Athenian ships did not move forward and swing around to take the enemy ships in the flank or from the rear. The procedures for missile exchange and melee resolution were simple and straightforward, but again, took some getting used to. It was often the case where calculating the missile values of various squadrons resulted in no effect. While necessarily abstracted, I sometimes wondered why 10 or more bases of Athenian ships could not hit the broadside of a floating barn. The melee process was more familiar. Here too, however, it was odd at times, to see a sudden and severe reversal of fortune take place. The Spartans suffered tremendously from poor dice. On a few occasions, the Athenians found themselves on the wrong end of a melee phase as well. Fortunately, for Themistocles and his democratic crews, these shifts in fortune were not too damaging. 

At the risk of appearing rather pleased with myself, I think the various rule amendments worked quite well. Caught up in the heat of the engagement, I did not use the “backing water” tactic. On reflection, I do suppose this movement could be revised further. Perhaps the enemy squadron would have to conduct some kind of test to see if it is “pulled” out of formation? Checking to see if the squadron admirals survived contact with the enemy worked well . . . too well in some cases, as there were several lost during the refight. Perhaps this amendment needs to be reviewed or tested some more? 

In summary, and at the risk of annoying the reader with word play, I think this naval “vacation” went rather swimmingly. It certainly felt strange to play with squadrons of ships instead of formations of infantry and cavalry, but at no point did I become seasick. Indeed, as remarked above, I find myself tempted to conduct further experiments in and explorations of this large and liquid laboratory. 

Notes

1. I regret to inform that I have not made much progress with Tactica II. The requirement for “handfuls of dice” to resolve missile exchanges and melees appears to be a rather substantial (or should I type “subjective”?) boulder blocking my path. In my estimation, there are lesser obstacles as well. I continue to work on becoming better and more confident with ADLG. Indeed, I hope to start a long-term project with these very popular rules (for competitions and tournaments anyway) around March of this year (2020). My interest in DBM was sparked by John Graham-Leigh’s short but superb article in the November/December 2019 issue of Slingshot. While I have found one Youtube tutorial on how to play DBM, I have not had much success in finding additional resources. I guess what I really need to do is find a local wargaming group that plays DBM so that I can learn, hands-on, from experienced players. 

2. A quick search of the 80 pages of the PDF Slingshot Index (1964-2010) produced several hits for the search word “Salamis.” Reviewing these four results, only two were found to be applicable. In Issue 4, the venerable Tony Bath authored “The Campaign and Battle of Salamis.” In Issue 25, Derrick Atwell wrote “Themistocles’ Movement Order [before Salamis].” With respect to the chronology of this particular project, the actual wargame was played in the final weeks of December 2019. The writing and editing was finalized in the first several days of 2020. I suppose, then, that I should relabel this as my first complete and submitted wargame of 2020. 

3. Readers are cordially invited to visit the following sites: https://www.wargamer.com/articles/boff-2-0-an-introduction-to-the-new-brigade-fire-and-fury/ and http://www.fireandfury.com/fireandfurymain.shtml.

4. On pages 30-31 of Warfare, there is an illustration of a Greek trireme, circa 500 BC. There are also diagrams and explanations of the ‘kyklos’, the ‘periplus’, and the ‘diekplus’. These are terms found within David’s rules. The additional information and illustrations on pages 30-31 of Warfare helped me to better understand these foreign words and concepts. 

5. Chapter Two is titled “Freedom—or “To Live as You Please” - Salamis, September 28, 480 B.C.” It starts on page 27 and runs to page 59. 

6. The description of the action provided by Aeschylus can be read here: http://www.poetry-archive.com/a/the_battle_of_salamis.html.

7. As with my many land battles, engagements, and scenarios, the units employed for this refight were fabricated on my laughably old computer, printed in colour, cut out, and then based on thick cardboard. They were model squadrons, but two-dimensional and rather abstract compared to the traditional three-dimensional miniatures or models.