Marching With Caesar: Conquest of Gaul mwc-1

by R. W. Peake

  The cornicen sounded the advance, this time the Fifth and Eighth Cohorts being selected to be the first into the breach, another example of how the dirty end of the stick is grasped by all of us at one time or another. Second Cohort was consigned to watch as the others began the advance, the scorpions opening fire once the Cohorts were within range of the Gallaeci bows and slings. Despite the barrage, we saw gaps open in the Centuries, quickly filled by other Legionaries moving up to take the spot of the fallen man, their bodies left behind in the wake of the advancing Cohorts. Missiles issued from the wall in a thick flurry, as it appeared that almost all of the men on the wall carried some sort of sling or bow. Our men started to fall more frequently, some of them with more than one shaft protruding from their bodies, obviously making some sort of mistake in exposing themselves, or even worse, one of their comrades made the error and they had to pay for it. Ignoring the punishment, the Cohorts moved forward, the scorpions continuing their suppressive fire, making me wonder how much worse it would be for us if they had not been there at all. By the time the assaulting Cohorts were within 50 paces of the breaches, it appeared that they had lost more than a third of their numbers, the ground behind them now littered with our dead and wounded. On some unseen signal, the Gallaeci launched one last massive volley, and at that range it was impossible for any missile to miss its mark, while in fact the arrows had enough velocity at that range to pass through one man’s body to penetrate the man behind him. It looked like an invisible hand swept through the ranks of the Fifth and Eighth, and despite ourselves, we let out a collective gasp of shock and grief.

  “They’re getting slaughtered,” I muttered, without thinking the words came out.

  “Shut your mouth, Pullus.”

  This came from Optio Rufio, who looked at me as if he wanted to strike me down for uttering the words that I was sure all of us was thinking. Knowing better than to protest when an officer had that look on his face, I bit my tongue, bitterly cursing him in my mind instead. Both the Fifth and Eighth came to a shuddering stop, their men trying to regain some semblance of order, stepping over the bodies of their friends and comrades to fill the gaps made by their loss. For a sickening moment, they both looked like they could go no further, except in doing so that essentially spelled their doom because they would be picked apart. Even worse than standing there was the option of retreating; they would be even more vulnerable trying to back up while tripping over all the bodies lying between them and safety. As brutal as it was, their only chance for survival was to move forward.

  “Second Cohort, prepare to advance!”

  This caught us all by surprise, especially since we had not been selected to be in the second wave.

  “Boys, I know we’re not slated to go next, but we can’t let our brothers take that kind of beating. We’re going to double time over there, stop when I give the signal to redress the lines and catch our breath, then we’re going to show those cunni what happens when you mess with the 10th!”

  I honestly do not know if our hearts were in the cheer that we raised with those words, or we were sufficiently conditioned to know when it was expected of us, but we let out a cheer nonetheless.

  “Procedite Ite Aciem, Move!”

  Beginning the advance, the sudden movement drew the stares of the other Cohorts, along with a thankful wave from the men of the Cohort who were supposed to be next. The Primus Pilus, along with the Tribune assigned to “command” the Legion that day came sprinting over to the Pilus Prior, who stepped to the side but ordered us to continue advancing. By virtue of my place on the outside of the column, I could hear the heated exchange between the Centurions and I worried that we were witnessing the end of the Pilus Prior’s career. Although we still hated him in some ways, our regard and affection for him had grown strong enough to outweigh any residual negative feelings that lingered from our training. As hard as he was on us, the Second had already garnered a reputation as being the best Cohort in the Legion, a fact that looking back, now that I have been in his shoes, I am sure he was counting on saving him. That and his utmost confidence in us that we would be victorious and save what was turning into a disaster. As I passed by, I caught the last of their words.

  “All I can say is that this better work, Crastinus, or you know what’s going to happen.”

  The Primus Pilus’ words were menacing enough, but his tone emphasized the seriousness of the situation.

  “It'll work,” the Pilus Prior responded simply.

  “But what about the second wall? Your Cohort was supposed to assault the second wall, not the first. Who’s supposed to do it now?”

  “We’ll do both,” Crastinus answered calmly, before saluting and trotting past me to rejoin the head of the formation.

  My heart sank; we were going to have to clear both the breach and then scale the wall?

  I was about to say something to Scribonius, but before I could, he muttered bitterly, “I heard the bastard. Well, Titus, it was nice knowing you.”

  Immediately after the Pilus Prior resumed his position, the command to begin the advance double time was given and we broke into a trot, the sound of our gear clanking and bouncing about mixing with the tramp of our hobnailed boots slapping the ground. Up ahead we saw that the Fifth and the Eighth had entered the breach, with it looking like the Fifth was having a rougher go than the Eighth, so the Pilus Prior veered us in that direction. Behind us I heard a roar, so I chanced a look back to see that another Cohort was starting the advance as well. I wondered briefly if it were the Cohort originally slated to support the Fifth, and if so whether or not their Centurion possessed the presence of mind to move to the other breach. If not, then it was going to be a major mess as our two Cohorts tried to jam ourselves into one hole that already had the remnants of a Cohort in there.

  Crossing the ground swiftly, just before we got to the point where the first bodies of our fallen were laying, the Pilus Prior halted us to dress the lines. We were going in as a column of Centuries, so that once again being the First Century had its disadvantages. Nevertheless, I cheered myself with the thought that at least I was in the rear rank, the comfort of which lasted just a few more heartbeats before I heard my name called.

  “Pullus, get your fat ass up here!”

  Moving out of my spot, I trotted up while the Pilus Prior called the names of the other large men of the Century, where he arranged us at the front, intent on using our bigger bodies to increase the impact when we went smashing through the breach. Up ahead we could see the Fifth fighting for its life, having made a small pocket just inside the first wall, where they were surrounded by what looked like several times their numbers, and even in the short time we watched we saw our men falling to the ground. Some of them got up again, but others just lay there or tried to crawl away. Once we were set, we were given the command to start out again, and for perhaps the first time in my life I cursed the fact that I had been born bigger and stronger than most everyone else. I was on the front rank, on the outside right, with the Pilus Prior running next to me as we advanced. One tiny blessing was that the Gallaeci had stopped with the bows and slings and were now down on the ground fighting it out with the Fifth and the Eighth. The closer we got, the more treacherous the footing as we had to pick our way over the bodies of our comrades, most of whom were still alive and trying to continue crawling away from the fighting. When a man is seriously wounded, it seems to be the overriding urge to move however one can away from the fighting that served to hurt them, and we had to call out to the men to lie still as we pounded around and over them, trying to leap their writhing bodies. We were not always successful; behind me I could hear a scream, followed by a curse as someone stepped on one of the wounded, yet we had no time to stop and help. With the distance rapidly closing to the breach, we could clearly see the faces of the Gallaeci facing us as they looked over the shoulders of the Fifth and saw us coming. Once again, the Pilus Prior knew how to maximize our advantage; I could see the eyes of the enemy widen in
shock and terror, seeing what to them must have looked like giants from the underworld come to seek their deaths.

  “Kill ‘em all, boys!”

  The Pilus Prior shouted, and when I glanced over I saw him grin, his lips pulled back over his teeth and his eyes shining with bloodlust as he circled his sword in the air just before dropping it down to point at the Gallaeci.

  “Porro!”

  This time our roar was wholehearted and I was sure that the gods in the heavens and down below sat up to take notice. Dis was going to have his hands full, I thought as I went smashing into the breach, shouting at the men of the Fifth that the Second was here to save them.

  Hearing our cries, the men of the Fifth engaged with the enemy gave the last of their energy to bash the Gallaeci backwards before stepping aside to let us come charging through their lines. Even as we went hurtling past, I glimpsed the fatigue and relief on the faces of the Fifth before I barreled into a warrior, knocking him head over heels. Flying backwards, he struck two other Gallaeci, who in turn fell down in a heap and before any of them could recover, I stepped up to make three quick thrusts, ending each of them. Our Century came pouring into the breach and in the space of a few heartbeats what was a slight bulge no more than a few feet across by a few feet deep now expanded out until our whole Century was inside the first wall. Spreading outwards along the base of the first wall, we kept it to either our left or right as we moved parallel to it, rapidly expanding our position in order to allow the other Centuries to come piling in. The men of the Fifth withdrew, giving us room to add more men, and within moments the first wall was effectively taken in our sector. Pausing a moment to assess the situation, a quick inventory was taken by the Pilus Prior. There were a couple of wounded in our Century, yet no deaths, a great start but it was not over by a long shot because we still had to cross the open ground to the second wall. Some of the more alert of the Gallaeci arrayed further down the wall saw us bursting through and realized that they were in real danger of being cut off, so they began streaming off the first wall, heading back to the second where more of their comrades waited. As we watched, ladders made of both wood and rope were dropped over the side to allow the defenders on the first wall to climb to safety, and the Pilus Prior dispatched two Centuries to hurry over to try to cut them off, but they were driven back by heavy fire from the slingers and bowmen on the second wall. Despite making a good start, we were about to be exposed to another danger; as long as there was a fight going on for the first wall, the missile troops on the second wall dared not fire for fear of hitting their own men, but once we killed or drove off those defenders, the way was clear now for them to open fire.

  “Testudo by Centuries!”

  Despite moving quickly, some of us fell before we could get into the proper formation. Meanwhile, the Pilus Prior of the Cohort immediately behind us did indeed have the presence of mind to shift his attack to the second breach, and shortly after we were finished they had secured that one as well. Now we had to cross the open ground, maneuvering across under fire, while also negotiating a ditch laced with sharpened stakes and caltrops, nasty devices that consist of two spikes twisted around each other so that no matter how you throw them to the ground, there is a sharpened point sticking up. And we had to do it under fire, while carrying ladders. In other words, a right bastard of a job.

  “There’s no use just standing here giving them targets to hit,” the Pilus Prior said this in a manner that suggested he was talking to himself more than he was to us, while we huddled underneath our shields, waiting for the word to advance.

  By this point, I was back in my normal spot in the formation, as were the other large men, our Century moving a way out from the wall to allow for the others of our Cohort to form up inside the wall.

  “Pilus Prior,” this was the Optio’s voice, and we strained to hear what he had to say over the din of the lead missiles from the slings skipping off our shields. “Did you notice anything strange about when those bastards left the first wall?”

  “What do you mean, Optio? Spit it out man, we don’t have time for riddles.”

  “What I mean is that they had to negotiate the ditch and obstacles just like we will, right? But did you see how quickly they scampered across? It was almost as if………”

  Cutting him off, Pilus Prior Crastinus finished excitedly, “As if they had a path across the ground that allowed them to move like the obstacles weren’t there in the first place.”

  The pride in the Optio’s voice was clear for all of us to hear. “Exactly. There has to be a way across where we won’t have to worry about that damn ditch. It’s further down that way.”

  And despite our situation, we grinned at each other. We all liked Rufio a great deal, making any success of his good news for us as well as far as we were concerned. The command was given and we began walking slowly, still in testudo, along the inside of the first wall. Both the Optio and Pilus Prior, using the shields picked up from fallen men to protect them, as is the habit of the officers in battle, searched for the signs of the path across. It soon became clear to the Gallaeci what we were up to, so they began concentrating their fire on our officers, who were then forced to integrate with our formation for better protection, making finding the path even more difficult. Further compounding the difficulty was the fact that we were also carrying the ladders inside the testudo, which is a trick I can promise you. There was a steady hail of missiles by now, creating such a racket that even as we shouted at each other, it was almost impossible to hear. It was only because the years of drilling made his lungs as powerful as leather bellows that we heard the Pilus Prior cry out in triumph when he found the path, marked by a series of stakes. If the Gallaeci had been smart, they would have pulled them up as they crossed over, but I gave a promise to Fortuna that I would make a sacrifice in thanks that they had not. The Pilus Prior sent Rufio to tell the other Cohort at the second breach what we found and what to look for, while we turned to head across the ground towards the second wall. Despite the hail of fire, we all had learned our lessons well about not giving into the temptation of taking a peek by shifting our shield even an inch, so we did not lose anyone crossing the ditch. Despite the stakes, we still had to be careful, the path being barely wide enough to accommodate the width of our Century; I grazed several of the stakes with my hip as we passed them. Climbing out of the ditch with our testudo still intact, within another couple of moments we made it directly underneath the second wall. Now it was our turn to inflict some punishment, as some of us waited with our javelins for one of the Gallaeci to take a chance of leaning out over the wall to try hitting us with a sling or arrow. It only took a few of them getting a javelin through the face to discourage the rest sufficiently that we could break out of the testudo and begin the process of placing the ladders while some of our comrades covered us with javelins. Looking back over my shoulder, I saw a line of Centuries, all in testudo, following the exact path we had taken, with what looked like the boys of the Sixth Century immediately behind us just climbing out of the ditch. They would move further down along the wall, and we would wait while the ladders were in place at several points before we all went up them at the same time. This gave us a bit of a chance to regain our breath, which we took advantage of, pulling out our canteens and sucking down as much water as we could, knowing that it would be some time before we could do so again.

  It took almost a sixth part of a watch for all of the Centuries of both Cohorts to get across the ditch and into place for the assault up the wall. The remaining Cohorts had made it to the first wall and were sheltered just on the other side, safe from the missiles of the men on the second wall. One disadvantage of their position was that the supporting Cohorts could not see us up against the second wall, and therefore would have to rely on the sounds of the horns to know when it was time for them to come across to make their own ascent once we had cleared the wall. While we waited, we could hear the sounds of battle going on over where the 9th was assaulting, althou
gh it was impossible to tell what was happening exactly or how it was going for them.

  “They’re probably fouling it up,” Vibius sneered with the disdain one Legionary holds for a Legion not his own. “You know those cunni couldn’t find their ass with both hands.”

  I wholeheartedly agreed with him, as did the others.

  “Get ready boys,” the Pilus Prior called out to us as he returned from the other Centuries. What makes the job of the senior Centurion of a Cohort so challenging is that he not only has to run his own Century, but he has to ensure that the others are doing what they are supposed to be doing as well, requiring him to be in several places at once, a feat that Crastinus somehow always managed to pull off with what appeared to be a minimum of effort. Every one of us swore that he had eyes in the back of his head and hearing so sensitive that he could hear a gnat fart, and as I was to learn later in order for a Centurion to be good at his job, it is essential that this be as close to the truth as possible. For once I was not going to be one of the first over; instead I would be bracing the ladder, and although I was thankful that I was given a relatively easy duty, I would be lying if I said that I was not also slightly hurt. Until that moment I had not realized it, but I had gotten accustomed to being one of the first into any breach or up a wall, and in the back of my mind, I could not help wondering if I had done something to make the Pilus Prior question my ability, or even worse, my courage. However, as I was about to find out, there was another reason he made the dispositions in this manner.