These ancient Greek warriors numbered 300. They were known throughout the land as the most fearsome, the most courageous, the most tenacious fighters to pick up a spear and shield. They fought for their home city-state against great odds, winning glory on the battlefield and freedom for their countrymen. In their final battle, they held their ground while their allies fled, refusing to surrender though they were surrounded. They fought to their last breath, every last one.

Sounds like the plot to the hit film "300," no? Not quite. These warriors weren't Spartans valiantly resisting the Persian hordes at the Battle of Thermopylae in 480 B.C.E. They were Thebans, winning combat glory and meeting their bloody but brave end at the Battle of Chaeronea in 338 B.C.E., where they were annihilated by Phillip II of Macedon and his son, who would become known as Alexander the Great.

One other thing about this other ancient Greek "300": They were gay. Not just gay, this "Sacred Band of Thebes," this classical version of today's special forces, was composed entirely of older men and their younger male lovers. They were, to use the Greek word, "pederasts."

A tangled Web unwoven

I stumbled upon this odd parallel shortly after taking in a screening of "300," a blood-and-guts action epic that brings to computer-animated life a graphic novel by the singularly talented Frank Miller. The movie tells of the Battle of Thermopylae, wherein 300 Spartan warriors fought to the death against the largest army ever assembled in defense of Greece and, depending on which movie review you read, freedom, democracy, Western civilization, the surge in Iraq and legions of other contemporary allusions imposed upon what ought to be a simple film.

After I watched "300," I succumbed to my second-favorite sedentary pastime: reading online reviews and articles about the movie I'd just seen. Oh, the hours of sleep I've lost to the sirens www.rottentomatoes.com and Wikipedia. My slumber is often dashed upon the rocks of Wikipedia's endless hyperlinks, which allow for the instant intellectual gratification necessary to sustain a short attention span.

From a page about Xerxes, the Persian "god-king" caricatured in "300," I clicked through to his grandfather, Cyrus the Great, the "father of Iran" who I learned, to my surprise, is widely considered the earliest champion of human rights. I followed my mouse to Alexander the Great, and reading of this unparalleled empire-builder's conquests, I came across a mention of the "Sacred Band of Thebes."

Imagine if Hollywood had somehow conjured up a blood-and-guts epic about that "300." I wonder if it would be drawing cheering crowds of Marines to Oceanside's Regal Theater for multiple viewings. Somehow, I doubt it.

Selective cultural memory

Hollywood picks and chooses what's worthy of big-budget treatment the same way our culture sifts through the Greek civilization we're supposedly based on. We boast about the Greek roots of our democracy, but we don't dwell on the widespread slavery that provided the Greek elite all the free time they needed to participate in their government. We hail the heroics of the Spartans, but we don't dwell on the infanticide that sent many an innocent baby to a gruesome death so that the city-state wouldn't be spoiled by "imperfections."

We praise the Socratic method of teaching as recounted to us by Socrates' star student, Plato, but we ignore the sexualized environment in which these Greek philosophers lived -- though Plato's Academy seems to have favored chaste relationships between men and boys.

Plato imagined his ideal army in his "Symposium" this way:

"And if there were only some way of contriving that a state or an army should be made up of lovers and their loves, 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. Or who would desert his beloved or fail him in the hour of danger?"

And that's pretty much where the idea for the "Sacred Band of Thebes" came from. Certainly, I'm not condoning sexual relations between adults and adolescents; that's one social more that's clearly evolved from the days of the ancient Greeks. And from our own cultural vantage point, with fraternization something we forbid among our troops -- even the boys with the girls -- the idea of an elite military unit of gay couples is so foreign it borders on the ridiculous.

Compromised promises

Heck, we find out a Marine, soldier, sailor, airman or reservist is eyeing the grunt to his right with anything other than bonds of brotherhood and we cashier him right out of the service.

In 1994, President Bill Clinton backed away from a campaign pledge to allow gay Americans to serve openly in the military and instead instituted the "don't ask, don't tell" policy, which allows gay men and lesbians to serve if they keep their sexual orientation private. Commanders aren't allowed to ask, and service members aren't allowed to tell.

It was a reasonable compromise at the time, given the political climate. But it has also led to the discharge of more than 10,000 troops -- including 322 linguists and 54 Arabic language specialists -- since the policy was adopted. A federal audit found that most of the discharged personnel were booted for accidental disclosures rather than intentional defiance of the policy.

Almost all of our military allies allow gay men and women to serve openly in their militaries. Enemies like Iran and North Korea and allies like Saudi Arabia and Egypt do not.

At a time when our military is stretched to the breaking point by repeat and extended deployments and lowering standards for recruitment, we're keeping good men and women who want to serve their country from enlisting or serving. Almost as troubling is the fact that we're encouraging a closeted life of deception and denial among the many military men and women who are gay and are forced to hide it from their closest friends.

Morality and immorality

Last month, Marine Gen. Peter Pace told the Chicago Tribune that he believed homosexuality to be "immoral" and likened it to adultery. He expressed his personal belief that the military shouldn't condone such "immoral behavior" by allowing gays to serve openly in the armed forces.

Pace was speaking personally, not in his role as chairman of the Joint Chiefs of Staff and not setting policy. There's no doubt he was expressing a widely held viewpoint. But not unanimous: The noise surrounding Pace's comments drowned out those a few months earlier by one of Pace's predecessors, retired Army Gen. John Shalikashvili. In an Op-Ed in The New York Times, Shalikashvili, who was Joint Chiefs chairman when the "don't ask, don't tell" policy was adopted, said he no longer opposed allowing gays to serve openly. He wrote that meeting with gay servicemen had convinced him "just how much the military has changed, and that gays and lesbians can be accepted by their peers."

What's more, poll after poll suggests that younger Americans, including those serving in the military, are more comfortable with gays and even gays serving in the armed services. What's the big civil right being demanded by gay rights activists throughout the land, after all? Marriage. The pursuit of monogamy hardly seems like an "immoral" cause to me.

Perhaps it's the hypocrisy that bothers me most. When there are gay men and women serving and dying in combat today, I personally think it's a shame that a top general equates their sexual preference, which I and most scientists believe is inborn, to an immoral act like adultery. We're willing to accept their sacrifice on the battlefield so long as they sacrifice their souls little by little by hiding their true identities.

More myths of '300'

Which brings me back to the myths spun by "300." In the movie, Spartan King Leonidas dismissively refers to denizens of Sparta's rival, Athens, as "boy-lovers." His archenemy, Xerxes, is portrayed as a lustful, makeup-wearing metrosexual monarch.

Here's the rub: In real life, Xerxes conquered much of Greece before his Persian forces were finally turned back at the Battle of Salamis. Along the way, he banned pederasty -- that's man-boy love -- in Sparta, in an effort to demoralize the fearsome Spartan army. In Sparta, an intimate relationship with an older man was a mandatory part of any would-be warrior's education; scholars disagree on how many of those bonds were sexual in Sparta, but certainly many were.

For good measure, there's one last myth left to destroy from the film: the solitary nature of the Spartans' stand at Thermopylae. The "300" Spartans weren't the only contingent of Greek soldiers to fight to the death at Thermopylae; they were joined in sacrificial valor by 700 warriors from Thespiae. That's right: Thespians.

Contact Opinion editor Denis Devine at (760) 740-5415 or ddevine@nctimes.com.