The Battle of Kadesh

1350 B.C.

In the capital of Hittite empire, Hattusa

76 years before the Battle of Kadesh   

The barracks adjacent to Hattusa were usually in constant motion. Even in passing you could always hear the sharpening of swords or the grunts of a late night spar. But tonight, the city lay still. The majority of the Hittite force was off on another campaign to wrest Kadesh from the Egyptians, fighting for honor, while a few unfortunate few had to stay and keep watch for a counterattack on Hatti. This was the most tedious of all the jobs, simply staring out into the plains, watching for anything out of the ordinary. Most would find themselves staring backwards into the city. And how could you resist: even at night the city was something to behold from a scout’s vantage point. Torches in temples were kept alight even in the dead of the night, which gave the large structures a dull glow, while the stone walls surrounding Hatti cast a shadow down on the city. Îzzet knew his job was pretty much pointless. No way would the Egyptians have the audacity to strike so far north. Despite the fact that Kadesh was in Egyptian territory to the southeast, it was very poorly defended due to the number of rebellions within the region. This left it wide open for the Hittites to claim. 

He knew it would be a decisive victory and the rest of the Hittite force would return to Hatti soon. But all he could do for now is pray to Zababa (the Hittite god of war) and wish he was there, fighting alongside his comrades for honor and glory. 

But Îzzet, a proud Hittite soldier, bred for battle, of no substantial rank, felt it was completely unreasonable for his exclusion. Not only had he been left out of the combat, but his chores were also more than tripled in amount. The responsibility of a large part of the barrack’s upkeep was left solely to him. Mucking the floors, sharpening the weaponry that was too shabby to bring, and exterminating pests were all on his list, the last of which was extremely frustrating. He would chase a rat for half an hour, then stare at a hole it snuck into for the next half.  

Îzzet made a point of educating himself as much as he could on the most recent Hittite campaigns, mostly from whispers and rumors from other soldiers. That fool pharaoh, Amenhotep IV, had seemingly neglected the need for protection. He had been so focused on enemies within his walls to see the threat of enemies outside, leaving Kadesh vulnerable. Kadesh seemed to be the center of much previous conflict. He wondered if it was even a good thing for this land to be under Hittite control. He’d long heard of a large battle at Megiddo, the neighboring city-state to Kadesh, nearly 100 years prior to this takeover; however, collecting more information proved to be nearly impossible. Hittite records were almost never kept of previous war engagements. Kadesh was at the border of Hittite, Egyptian, and Assyrian territory. It would be a valuable area to control for any of these massive dynasties to expand further. 

Meanwhile: el-Amarna, Egypt 

Pharaoh Amenhotep IV stood at the newly constructed shrine to the sun God Aten. Once he had become the pharaoh and ruler of Egypt he proclaimed that all the gods of Egypt were a lie except for one, the almighty sun god, Aten. Despite it being the middle of the day, the shrine was almost completely empty except for an odd slave here and there. Of course, they were only there to clean, guard, and maintain the shrine. It seemed the subjects were clearly unhappy with the changes taking place and it was only logical to assume that they wouldn’t visit a shrine commissioned by a pharaoh they despised. It had been just over a fortnight since he had moved the capital to el-Amarna. He had begun replacing each all shrines to worship Aten exclusively. In other matters, things were falling apart in the north-east. Many of the newly conquered city-states, including Kadesh, still rebelled against Egyptian rule. But his starting a monotheistic religion, devoting all his people’s focus to Aten he thought, would strengthen their resolve. He knew that, in time, he would reclaim the land, but only once all the chaos had subsided, for who could resist the pacifying influence of Aten?

He had set up a somewhat unsteady peace treaty with the Mitanni nation, desperately needed. Without the resources supplied from Syria and Palestine, he might not have enough forces to quell the uprisings sprouting across Egypt. His advisors were quite insistent in dealing with a matter involving the protection of Kadesh – however this was the least of his worries. On one hand, Kadesh was a useless city-state, supplying nothing to the capital except a makeshift military border, but on the other, what would it mean for the growth of his religion if the bright shining disk of Aten couldn’t blast Kadesh into a million sunbeams?

But he did fear the potential outcome when the day to finalize control of Kadesh would come. He had read tales engraved on the walls of the Hall of Annals about a fearsome battle up there near Megiddo, around 100 years ago. The writing had stated that nearly 12,000 had died in the battle, but also said that it was a resounding victory for the Egyptians. When questioning his advisors further on more of the details he found that nearly a third of casualties were on the Egyptian side despite them claiming victory. It had been a very impactful battle and he wished to not suffer similar losses.

The most interesting part of the inscription however was the recorded aftermath. It was written by Thutmose III’s commander and military scribe, Tjaneni. From what Amenhotep IV could tell, Tjaneni’s attention to detail was impeccable, surpassing the skills of the other scribes. Amenhotep had even made the trip to the great Temple of Amun at Karnak to read the full portion. The most impressive section of the writing was the efficiency shown when dealing with the civilian riots. Amenhotep had decided to make a point in studying these texts to prepare for the many rebellions within his kingdom that he knew would come. 

1279. In the capital of Hatti, Hattusa

Five years before the Battle of Kadesh 

It was Mursili III’s third year as ruler and king of the Hittites, but things were seeming dicey. He looked into blanked eyes, staring at the statue of a deity. The corridor was dimly lit and completely silent except for the echoes of his footsteps on the stone floor. His reign had been getting more and more difficult over time, especially with this new Egyptian Pharaoh. Ramses II seemed like a formidable opponent based on the information Mursili had collected from his spies. Despite his age, Ramses’ military knowledge was astronomical. Mursili knew that in a war against him, simply sending men without planning wouldn’t be enough. The important part was that this new child of a Pharaoh held a grudge towards the Hittites from the Kadesh siege that had happened 70 years prior. 

The Hittites had walked into Kadesh uncontested, as if the Egyptians were almost asking for it. The border city was lacking in garrison due to political issues in the capital and was free for the taking. This grudge complicated things. Rumors were also spreading about Mursili III’s uncle, Hatusilli. It seemed he was gathering a large force to dethrone him. Mursilli was conflicted: between sending the majority of his armies and chariots to Kadesh to defend the border or keeping as much of his force close to him as protection from this inevitable attack from his uncle, what was he to do? What had convinced him that these were not just simple rumors? However, why had his uncle ignored every accusation Mursili had thrown at him? Why hadn’t he heard confirmation from his angry uncle? Was Uncle Hatusilli deliberately leaving him in the dark? Oh well, it was time to decide. 

The most annoying part was that every time he would sit down to think, he would be surrounded by messengers bringing reports from Kadesh every other minute. They were all the same in essence. “Your majesty, we need more funds” or “Your majesty, we need more soldiers” or “Your majesty, more Egyptian scouts were spotted”. It was all very draining. On increasing occasions Mursili was forced to hide in shrines and temples to just get some quiet. 

Many of his advisors would calmly but persistently recommend a peace treaty which was just plain idiotic. First off, the Egyptians would never sign a peace treaty, as it was clear they had plans for bloodshed, and it was a sign of weakness to them. Begging for mercy is never an option. Also, Mursili and all the kings before him had worked tirelessly to expand the Hittite reach and control it. He had no plans to stop the expansion of Hatti. That included destroying and claiming Egypt! A peace treaty would greatly stunt the growth of the Hittites. 

As of now, he was feeling as if sending his army away to Kadesh would be the only real option. Losing Kadesh, right in the border land between Egyptian and Hittite territory, would give the Egyptians almost free access into Hatti. That could lead to the end of the Hittite empire. Of course, sending his army away would be basically waving goodbye to his crown and maybe even his life if his uncle was in a bad mood. He refused to lose his land to the Egyptians. Mursili also knew his uncle well, and he knew that he would make a strong leader – and if he had to pay with his head, at least old Uncle Hatusilli would have a strong hand on the ‘gyptians. But then again, he’d rather have his head intact, even if he had to cross into the reviled ‘gypt. 

1280 B.C.

6 years prior to the Battle of Kadesh

Pi-Ramses, the capital of Egypt. 

Upon the Pharaoh Ramses II’s parading through the commoners of the capital Pi-Ramses, peasants would fall prostrate to their knees in honor of his magnificent presence. His chiseled features were comparable to none and not a single thread of cloth was misplaced along the long dark velvet robe, emblazoned with the crest of a Pharaoh and encircled with true nuggets of gold which shone in the midday sun. A path would be made instantaneously for he and his escort of a dozen well-built and heavily armed men. Peasants tripped over themselves to clear the road, for the punishment for standing in the way of his majesty would most likely be a swift death from the sword of his guard. And of course, these guards sported their own armor with only the sharpest weaponry, forged from the strongest of steel. Ramses looked into the fifteen-foot polished bronze mirror, noting how his aquiline nose caught the light with perfection. He sighed. What did he need to do to make his visage immortal, other than finish his pyramid which would house his mummy forever? Ah! it would be to finally vanquish those hairy Hittite monsters and rip back Kadesh from their beefy fists. He had begun sorting things out for a potential war between him and the enemy king Mursili. 

1275 B.C. Hattusa, one year before the Battle

Mursili III

Mursili girded himself with a topaz-embedded belt, strapped on his sandals and quickly marched out with his phalanx of guards into the dawn. The rows and rows of chariots were unmanned; all drivers had been told the previous day to polish and perfect their vehicles, and it was now time to inspect. If any portion of the vehicles were unpolished, were broken, or were found to be in disrepair, the attending driver would be called to account. 

The midday sun perfectly struck the lined up chariots and cast shadow straight down on the pathway. Each chariot was identical, a large wooden vehicle with a simplistic design… yet with clear potential for violence. The large platform could support three men and could out speed any other chariot in any other nation. The soldiers manning these vehicles would only be chosen from the most courageous and skilled of the Hittite force. It took a real master of the bow to hit an Egyptian charioteer while moving 15 miles an hour. However, he knew his bowman could do it. Two horses would be required to pull this beast of a vehicle but would also make it two times as difficult to take down. 

1274 B.C.

Egyptian territory near Kadesh, war camp

Ramses II

Ramses II had barely slept in the past two days. Every second of night and day was consumed with preparations for the approaching battle. And even when he did sleep, his dreams were haunted by the possible outcomes if this siege was not successful. His reign could end and his many goals of expansion would die with him, that is if he even returned alive. However, it was vital that this unsteadiness was not shown to his citizens. He had taken many more parades through the capital to show the commoners of his strength and confidence as Pharaoh and general, before eventually setting off with his army across Judah and Galilee to get to the plains that were Kadesh.

1274 B.C.

Kadesh, South of the Orontes River

Egyptian scout named Iah Heru 

Iah Heru wasn’t sure if he felt lucky or unlucky that the battle that had been brewing for almost a century would take place in his lifetime. But once Egypt claimed victory over the Hittites he could return home and live out the rest of his days in peace, after of course, he and his comrades being celebrated as heroes. Despite scouting being one of the easiest jobs, he was still one of the only volunteers for the position. Once the battle began, he and the other scouts could stay in the back with minimal combat required. He guessed the prospect of being captured and tortured to death scared the others out of volunteering.

Skirmishes between the two empires was almost a tradition at this point. One of his scouting comrades, Neith Re, had been captured by the Hittites a few nights back. There was no doubt in his mind that Neith had died, most likely a gruesome death. He thought of the men in the camp preparing for a battle they knew would come, commanders scheming in their tents; there would be an almost dead silence in the night, only disrupted by the occasional brief bout of laughter or the sharp metallic sound of someone perfecting the point of their spear.

The Egyptian scout reared the hill and looked out over the sea of Hittite campfires and makeshift shelters. The counting of men was difficult but the sheer number of chariots was clear – he estimated around 3,000 at least. As soon as he saw this, he grabbed the reins of his horse and started galloping back to his camp. The Hittite chariots dwarfed the Egyptians at least 1,000. And they also seemed to be larger and could probably fit up to 3 people. The commanders would need this information in the battle to come if they wished to claim victory. 

The Battlefield

Kadesh plains

Late May, 1274 B.C.

From the battle of Megiddo, to Izzet’s deep brooding and frustration, to Amenhotep’s zealous beliefs and objectives, to Mursilli’s great dilemma, to Ramses’ deep grudge for the enemy that took so much from Egypt, to Mursili’s fanatic preparations, hundreds of years had been leading up to this one historic moment. A battle was brewing and soldiers on both sides knew it. 

Each nation had gathered allies from across the land in preparation. In the middle of the day the camps were bustling with life – they could be seen for hundreds of rods (rod = 150 feet) straight. And to the west, one could even spot wagons of hayricks and matériel slowly moving along, for all the fastest steeds had been taken for battle. The Egyptian presence was formidable. The battalions of Hittites were less orderly and more of a clump, large tents placed at differing intervals apart. The training grounds were fully occupied with men being directed through formations and exercises for war. Looking carefully, you could spot a larger tent rimmed with a golden hue, the base for the general and king. Messengers and diplomats hung right outside hoping for a word with his majesty. Each nation had nearly 50,000 armed to the teeth whether it be by sword, spear, bow, or shield. 

Infantry were equipped with a strong flexible bow composite of wood and horn, with arrow shafts of reed and wood, tipped off with a polished bronze arrowhead. Quivers would hold 20 to 30 arrows, each identical to the next. Soldiers were equipped with a dagger with a ribbed blade and a curved hilt, sharpened to a deadly perfection.

Ramses’ force was split into six, four of which were named after their own respective Egyptian gods: Amon, Ra, Ptah, and Seth. Ramses’ personal guard would be the 5th of those divisions with a 6th division of hired Canaanite soldiers. The Canaanite mercenaries were known for their ruthless nature in battle and their ability to strike fear into any who opposed them. This 6th division was known as the Niren. An average of 9,000 men were assigned to each force. However, the Hittite soldiers showed no fear of the enemy ahead. Muwatalli had collected the full might of Hittite influence. He had twice the amount of Egypt’s chariots, and double the infantry as well.

The majority the Egyptian force bore no armor – some merely donned a belt and a small triangular loin cloth. They carried shields of wood and ox hide, square at the bottom and perfectly round at the top. However, the more important officials wore leather tunics reinforced with small bronze plates and padded skullcaps.

Across the Hittite camps you could see many different designs of armor and clothing. Some wore long plated tunics stretching all the way down past the knees while others had forgone any armor in favor of mobility. Pointed helmets of bronze and leather were also worn to protect from swift death from an arrow. Shields were circular with the sides rounded in. The Hittite leader stood tall, fully adorned with mail tunic reaching down to his knees. Not a single brass scale out of place; so polished in fact, that from a distance it could be mistaken for sheer gold robe.

The Pharaoh Ramses sent ahead 3 scouts to find the Hittite army and once they had returned he began the march towards them. Each of his divisions were spread far apart, ready to offer assistance if another division were to be attacked. The Egyptian force was near perfectly quiet. No one dared make a sound, each of them kept one ear out at all times for an attack from behind. For they knew the element of surprise would be crucial. They feared the battle would be over all too soon if the Hittites could overwhelm them from behind. Suddenly, their fears were validated when a mass of nearly 2,500 Hittite chariots, large, strong, and armored many layers deep, crested over a hill directly behind them!

Egyptian scouts had foreseen this attack and rushed back to inform the Pharaoh. But they arrived too late. Heavy Hittite chariots rammed into the unorganized and unaware Egyptian camp; heavy swords and arrows flew seemingly without purpose or direction. But the camp was too compact, and the large Hittite chariots had nowhere to go. Egyptian footmen pulled Hittites out of their chariots by their long hair and slashed their throats. Blood and dust soon filled the air and covered the ground. In the midst of battle one squadron of bowmen were able to organize themselves apart from the bloodshed and began endlessly firing arrows into the mass of chariots. Arrowheads hit home and embedded themselves in the skulls of Hittite soldiers. The slaughter was constant and brutal. A division of Hittite chariots pushed for the Pharaoh directly and his personal guard defended wave after wave of attacks. Ramses was trapped. Threatened from all sides and nowhere to run. There were only two options, and the first led to death, so he chose the second. He took all the chariots that remained and swooped in a wide arch, launching a fearsome counterattack on the Hittites from behind. Because of the fleet scouts, another Egyptian division had caught up with the battle and joined Ramses in his attack. From out of nowhere Ramses had gone from the underdog to the clear winner. With no other options the Hittite soldiers were pushed back; they had realized their fatal mistake. In the Hittites’ eagerness to charge they had left behind nearly 40,000 infantry which would have outnumbered the Egyptians nearly 2:1! Their retreat soon became a headlong rush for safety, for the Egyptians showed no mercy. Foot soldiers rushed to cut them off, and surrounded by soldiers and river, the Hittite division had nowhere to go.

After their stunning defeat in battle the Hittites stumbled back to Hattusa, but Ramses and his army were too weak to continue the siege and headed back to Eygpt. Kadesh was untouched. Of course, Egypt claimed the event to be a clear cut victory for Egypt, and were celebrated as heroes when they returned, while the Hittites were up in Kadesh, scratching their heads on why Ramses didn’t take their land. In the Hittite point of view, they had won because the ‘Gyptians hadn’t seized and occupied Kadesh: Ramses didn’t take Kadesh and that’s all there was to it. Essentially, both sides claimed victory, making this the biggest draw in history! Egypt had their pride and Hatti had Kadesh.