And if there were only some way of contriving that a state or an army should be made up of lovers and their beloveds, they would be the very best governors of their own city, abstaining from all dishonor, and emulating one another in honor; and when fighting at each other's side, although a mere handful, they would overcome the world. For what lover would not choose rather to be seen by all mankind than by his beloved, either when abandoning his post or throwing away his arms? He would be ready to die a thousand deaths rather than endure this.

—Plato, Symposium

Or even better, if there were only some way of contriving that a state or an army should be made of citizens and their unrequited crushes, that would be even a little bit better, abstaining from all dishonor, and striving to outdo one another in honor, and above all things hoping to avoid further humiliation in front of their…[fragment lost]…extremely one-sided…[ibid]…

But best of all would be a single beautiful man, lissomer and more graceful than anyone else south of Olympus, and every single citizen in love with him, but he doesn’t even know they’re alive, and they’re all in an army together to try to impress him, and even if he never notices they’re still going to defend Thebes in his name with a golden fury…Oh my God, that would be so sad, you guys….but so beautiful too…

—Plato, Symposium, a litte later

Sure, the Sacred Band of Thebes is to be esteemed. Highly esteemed! And I absolutely do very highly esteem them. What’s not to esteem? 300 of the best and brightest Thebes has on offer, chock-full of arête, as prudent as they are just, as temperate as they are full of fortitude, everybody in just the right amount of love with the guy to his immediate right, and nobody cheats or tries to throuple up, all sworn to outdo one another in honorable virtue, a relentless sea of boyfriend-twins as far as the eye can see. Great news for Thebes!

But let me ask you this. Who would you rather have defending you: A bunch of perfectly-happy couples with secure attachment styles, or 150 of the most miserably self-conscious wretches you’ve ever seen in your life fighting in front of someone who would be so perfect for them if he would only open his eyes and see what’s literally fighting right in front of him? Guys with perfect boyfriends are too happy. And happy people just don’t kill people. They just don’t.

–Leander of Boeotia, undated letter to Gorgidas

The Sacred Band of Thebes is only as strong as their weakest couple. All it takes is one ill-timed squabble, one arrow wound gone septic, to end up with one unpaired soldier, who might as well be a rogue elephant. All at once jealousy, suspicion, precarity, covetousness, intrigue, and spoilage enter the camp, and ruin follows shortly behind. Lose one couple and risk them all.

But what man has ever said to a persistent admirer, “Your years of distant yearning have laid waste to my heart! I did not love you before, but being on the receiving end of unreciprocated admiration has really changed my mind; come and be my lover?” There is no fear of change in the second-string Lovesick Band of Thebes. They are as stable as the tide; we are as unchanging as the rock over which the ocean surges.

–Epaphroditus of Corinth

The exact date of the second Band of Thebes’ creation is unknown, and whether it was composed of castoffs and rejects from the first Band of Thebes, or drawn from a different pool of candidates altogether, is a subject of ongoing debate. The most likely date of formation is sometime between 375 and 371 BCE.

Diodorus Siculus does record a force of 300 Thebans allied with the Spartans at the Battle of Delium (424 BCE) composed of “charioteers” and “those whom the charioteers barely acknowledge,” although he does not refer to the band by name.

“A favorite has to be lucky every time. An unacknowledged hanger-on only has to be lucky once.”

–Ancient Theban proverb

After the defeat of the Spartans at Leuctra, the surviving members of the Lovesick Band commemorated their victory by erecting a tropaion on the battlefield made of shields, oak, and helmets lashed together. “Here lie the glorious dead,” the inscription read. “They were so sweet…I want to say Philip? Was one of their names?”

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