by R. W. Peake
“Dig. Starting where those stakes are marking out. Pile the spoil on that side,” Pilus Prior Vetruvius pointed. “The ditch has to be twelve feet deep and fifteen feet wide.”
We all nodded, since this was the standard for fortifications we constructed for Caesar, but despite our understanding of the simple requirements, what was escaping all of us was….why? We were not building a camp; we had done that the day before. This was, at least to our eye, in the middle of nowhere. However, this was to be the first of the defensive fortifications for which Caesar would rightly become famous, an 18 mile wall that began at the shores of the huge lake that the locals call Geneva, to the base of the Jura Mountains. Since we never saw maps and were too lowly ranked to be in any of the officers’ briefings, we had to wait to learn from the Pilus Prior exactly why we were standing in what was nothing more than a long line of Centuries, half of them fully armed and standing watch, with the other half like us being told to show up with our digging gear. The Helvetii were out of room; this much we knew, and once the Pilus Prior sketched out a rough map in the dirt, it became clearer what their problem was. They lived in a narrow strip of land, with the huge lake to one side, and a range of small but rugged mountains on the other. If facing south, the direction they wanted to march, that lake was to their left, and behind them, hemming them in even further was the Rhenus (Rhine) River, roughly a week’s march away. Furthering their problems was that apparently the Helvetii had not been good neighbors to the tribes surrounding them, and I believe it was this knowledge that prompted Caesar to reject their request to pass through the lands to their south. Not trusting them to obey his command, he ordered us to dig a defensive ditch, of the dimensions I previously mentioned, to block the 18 mile gap. Topping the earthen wall were the palisade stakes, for which a large number of trees had to be felled and the stakes fashioned from them. Because we were the first Legion to arrive, it fell to us and a scratch force of Legion strength that was pulled from the garrisons and towns of the province. It is only now that I realize that many times when we were not told the larger reasons for our actions, it was actually in our best interests, although I would have been just as vocal protesting that idea as anyone back then. However, if we knew what we would be expected to accomplish, while we certainly would not have mutinied, there would have been considerable hard feelings. As it was, we were still none too happy, grumbling at the folly of digging a ditch and wall for only the gods knew what here in the middle of nowhere.
Originally, we started on the project at a midway point, in what we thought was an attempt to screen our intentions from the Helvetii. It is still astonishing to me, even having seen it happen as many times as I have by now, how quickly an organized, motivated and well-led group of men can achieve something of the scale as the Geneva Wall, as we came to call it. The wall took only two weeks plus a day, despite one or two attempts on the part of the Helvetii to disrupt the work. Once it was finished, Caesar spread all of his available troops along the walls, concentrating most of them at the point closest to the river, whereby we could man the walls to repel any attempts to scale it, not that there was a huge threat of this. Because it was the entire Helvetii tribe moving, what we faced was not a fast-moving, far-ranging group of warriors, so that scaling the wall would only do them limited good. It had to be breached, in a number of places, with each opening having to be at least as wide as their largest wagons. The spot that bore the most watching was where Caesar put us, the section of wall where it made a junction with the confluence of the river and the lake; the scratch troops were distributed along the rest of the way. Our wall was constructed so that part of it actually ran parallel to the Rhodanus, which is fed by the lake, for the length of a mile, giving anyone foolhardy enough to try slipping by and landing on our side of the river exposure to not just our javelins but to the artillery, the bulk of which Caesar ordered to be concentrated in this area. And if anyone was fortunate enough to make it to the point at which the wall stopped, facing them was a camp filled with men with orders to kill whoever made it that far, no matter what their status. Despite all of this, there were such attempts every night the first two or three nights; at least none of them were insane enough to try to go by in the day. Even with the cover of night, however, the passengers who slipped through on the one or two boats that made it past the initial fortifications were quickly dispatched. Fortunately, our Cohort was stationed further up; while I would have obeyed orders the same way I had obeyed such orders in the past, I certainly did not mind missing the opportunity to slaughter women and children.
The blockade achieved the desired effect, though not for long. Since the Helvetii had already taken the drastic step of burning down their homes, farms and anything else of value, they were for all purposes camping out in their own land. Their tribal elders made the decision that instead of trying to force their way past the wall, they would instead lead their people to the opposite end of their lands to the north, then cross to the west through a gap in the mountains there. Since this was much, much larger than an army that they were trying to move, they could not accomplish anything with any real rapidity. Nonetheless, they moved much faster than we would have thought possible before seeing it with our own eyes, when we awakened one morning to a large cloud of dust hanging in the air to our north. During the impasse at the wall, they had camped within our sight as their elders debated what to do, the fires stretching for as far as the eye could see, so despite ourselves, we were impressed by how quickly they were able to move that mass of people, even if it was just a few miles. Caesar immediately spotted the danger, and knowing that one Legion, no matter how good we were, would not be enough, ordered us to move to join the 7th, 8th and 9th, who had marched from Aquileia into a blocking position. I know we felt the same way, because when we were told that Caesar was heading that direction, not only to hurry the other three Legions along, but to raise two more nobody, not even Vibius, complained about it. The Helvetii could make perhaps ten miles a day, if that; this gave us perhaps a little short of three weeks to stop them at the crossing place between the mountains. Militarily speaking, it was important to meet them in the mountains, where the narrowness of the roads and trails could negate the advantage of their huge numbers. We were told they had more than a 100,000 warriors, and that was a daunting number, no matter how confident we were in ourselves or in Caesar. Caesar left us under the command of Titus Labienus, the man who would end up becoming our de facto commander for the next few years. While the command is supposed to rotate among all the Legates, Caesar was not one to let tradition get in the way of doing what was best with his army. It would not be fair to say that we liked Labienus, but he had our grudging respect. This was partially because like Caesar, he had shown that he would share our same hardships and living conditions, and also because he demonstrated a good head on his shoulders that did not panic. I believe that more than intelligence, or tactical brilliance, the ability to keep one’s head when everyone around you is losing theirs, especially when it is happening literally, is the key to military success. Once our commanders were assured that this was not some attempt on the part of the Helvetii to trick us into prematurely removing us from the wall, we were given the command to march. Caesar left orders that the scratch force would now take our place, taking the reasonable risk that if the Helvetii were to turn tail and come back to the wall, it would not be in the 18 mile stretch between the river and the mountains, but where they might have the greatest chance of success. As was usual for Caesar, he was right; the Helvetii did not give it a backward glance, throwing the dice in the direction they were headed, hoping that they could steal a march on us.
With Caesar going to get help and the Helvetii heading north, Labienus marched us west and south, generally back the way we came. From a soldier’s point of view, it is times like this when we reversed our tracks that we really regretted the practice of destroying the camp of the night. It would have saved us some trouble and labor, yet such was our lot that we often f
ound ourselves sometimes within sight of the outlines of the old camp, digging all over again. However, that is just the grumbling of an old soldier. Despite it still being spring, it was early enough, now that we were in the more mountainous areas, for snow to fall, and this was Vibius’ and my first real experience with the stuff. We were not alone; most of the men of the 10th had no experience with snow, other than the glimpse of snow-covered peaks in Hispania, so that even the officers could not stop us from becoming a group of boys for a time. We tasted the snowflakes, made snowballs to throw at each other, and in general acted in a manner completely unworthy of Rome’s Legionaries. Very rapidly we discovered the cost of such beauty, since none of us had thought to pack our leg coverings or socks, much to our discomfort within a few moments. Our feet had been toughened up by the miles we marched, except they were as susceptible to cold as any other part of the body, and before long I was faced with the unpleasant sensation of being unable to feel my feet. Even as we marched they felt like two big lumps of meat, and it was only because I looked down and watched that I could tell I was wiggling my toes. My only happiness came from the fact that I was not the only one miserable; there is nothing more comforting to a soldier when he suffers than the knowledge that his friends are just as miserable as he is. Vibius was shivering uncontrollably; as we walked I could see his body spasm, fighting the cold. His lips were blue, and I suspected mine were as well, while even the normally patient and long-suffering Calienus was marking each step with a chatter of teeth.
“Not so fun is it now, eh boys?” called Rufio, marching out to the side.
We did not answer; despite the fact we all liked Rufio a good deal, he was still Optio and smarting off to a superior, while a way to get warmed up with a flogging, was not a method we would choose willingly. Truthfully, we did not worry so much about Rufio bringing up a charge, but Pilus Prior Vetruvius was still an unknown quality at this point. Being fair, he had not been markedly different than Crastinus, but we had yet to go into battle with him, and as I was to learn when I reached his place, the men are judging you just as much if not more than you are judging them. I was reminded of that when I left the ranks and faced battle the first time as a Centurion, thinking back to when I was a Legionary watching our new Centurion, trying to figure him out.
Luckily, the weather only lasted one more full day. On the second morning we actually woke to a camp covered in white, the tents blanketed in snow, glowing an eerie white in the pre-dawn darkness. The only marks on the ground were from the men on watch and their relief, although that would change quickly now that the camp was awake. It did not take long for us to discover another problem that snow, despite its beauty, gave in abundance. The leather of our tents had become soaked, making them much heavier than normal, something that may not seem to be an insurmountable problem. However, the amount of weight that every man, animal and wagon carries is calculated down to the pound, making the additional weight of the trapped water a serious problem. Normally the tent section mule carries the tent, the stakes, its own forage and our extra grain, but very quickly we discovered that something had to be removed from the animal’s burden, and I will say I was not surprised when all of my tentmates’ eyes turned to me. I knew better than to argue, just sighing and accepting the sack of grain, trying to balance it with the rest of my load. My pride would not allow me to act like it was anything but the most trifling of tasks, but I felt my knees shake a bit as I got adjusted to the extra burden. I also knew better than to hope that Labienus or the Centurions would account for all the extra weight we were carrying when calculating the day’s march, and in that I was not disappointed in my confidence. Fortunately we were still headed in a downhill direction, back to where we were to meet with Caesar, who would be bringing up the three Legions and whatever troops he raised. Not lost on us was the fact that these new Legions would be close to useless, at least in the first few battles, since they were literally training on the march. The 7th, 8th and 9th would be welcome, however, and those with friends among the other Legions speculated about how much money they could win, or win back as the case may have been. Out of all of us, perhaps Didius looked forward to the reunion more than anyone else, since for the most part he was out of willing opponents for his games of chance, if they could be called such. As I reflect on it, perhaps Didius taking the beating he did was not the best thing, because it made him more determined not to get caught, instead of showing him he needed to change who he was. Perhaps asking him to change was impossible; can we truly alter our nature, or is the best we can hope to do disguise it from the eyes of others? Given the problems he caused for himself and for others, if he had even tried at the least to hide his true colors from others, I cannot help but think how different things could have been.
Reaching the confluence of the Rhodanus and Aras (Saone) rivers on the third day of our march, we turned back north along the Aras; the branches of the Aras and Rhodanus roughly form the letter “V” with the Aras continuing to the north. It is one of the most sluggish rivers I have ever seen, and it is almost impossible to tell which way it is flowing, although it is actually to the south and gradually empties out to Our Sea. At the junction of the two rivers was what is now known as the town of Lugdunum, except at that time it was just a hill fort that commanded the junction of the rivers. If the tribe that held it had been hostile at that time it would have posed a large problem for us to get around, as we could see the men lining the walls clearly watching us go tramping by, but given that we were trying to stop the Helvetii from trespassing into their territory, it is easy to see why they let us pass unmolested. Nevertheless, we were grateful for their lack of hostility and we marched past as quickly as we could. Once we were a safe distance away, yet still within sight of not just the hill fort but the river fork, we made camp to await Caesar and the other Legions, making it large enough to accommodate the rest of the army when it arrived. They marched in a couple of days later, and it was a welcome sight seeing the rest of the army, their eagles and standards marking their progress up the valley to join us, with the obligatory cloud of dust hovering above them. Labienus and the Legion’s command group went to meet Caesar, while we were called to formation outside the camp to welcome Caesar and our comrades.
“About time is all I can say,” grumbled Vibius, who eyed the hill fort every day, openly worried that our presence would provoke the Gauls inside it to come out to cause us some mischief.
In fact, the opposite was happening, as we would find out shortly, when a Gallic deputation rode out to meet Caesar, not to warn or threaten us but to ask for help. By this time, the Helvetii had passed over the mountains that currently lay to our east and served as the western border of their former lands. Moving through a narrow pass at the northern end of the range, with a detachment of our cavalry trailing to keep an eye on them, the Helvetii were now sweeping back to the south, preparing to cross the Aras River a bit further to our north. They were supposedly a dozen miles away, having commandeered every boat in the area to make a bridge over which they could cross. While Caesar met with his officers and the representatives of the Aedui, Allobroges and Sequani, all of whom had come to us to ask our help with the threat to their lands, we retired back to camp to await further orders. There was an air of excitement crackling through the Legion streets; from our perspective, we were happy to no longer be alone in enemy territory and to be reunited with Caesar, yet we shared the belief with all the other Legions that now that Caesar was here, we would soon be seeing more action.
We were not disappointed. Shortly before dusk, an assembly of the Centurions was called, leaving us to sit by our tents waiting to hear what was going to happen, passing the time in our usual manner of gambling, talking about women and speculating on where we were headed. All of us were sure that we would take off in pursuit of the Helvetii, but what we were not prepared for were the orders the Pilus Prior brought back to break down our tents, pack up and be ready to move by midnight. Caesar was taking ourselves, the 8th an
d 9th in pursuit of the Helvetii, leaving the other three Legions behind, except he was not content to wait for daybreak, planning instead to steal a march on the Helvetii, making for a hard slog ahead of us. Quickly understanding that the sooner we broke down our gear, packed it up and made ready to move, the more chance we would have of snatching some rest before the appointed time of march, we turned to our tasks with a vengeance. Within two parts of a watch we were done and ready to move, our reward the chance to lie on the now bare ground where our tent had been, using our pack for a pillow, and getting as much sleep as we could. I dropped off immediately, as did almost all of the rest of us; we had all learned by this point the wisdom of sleeping when there was time and eating when there was food because one never knew when the chance for either would come again. Roused shortly before the march was to set out, we were thankful that the sky was clear and the moon, while not completely full, was still bright enough to clearly illuminate the path we were about to take. Even so, when we started out, with the 10th in the lead, we moved with more caution than if it were fully daylight, sending two Centuries ahead instead of the standard one to scout the ground and keep us from falling into ambush. Ahead of the Centuries even farther were the cavalry ala, ranging a mile or two ahead of the advance guard, and it was in this manner that we set out. Caesar ordered strict silence on the march, so we tore strips of spare cloth, wrapping them around the noisier bits of our gear to keep them from clanking together, producing a sound as we marched that none of us had ever really heard before. That night made me realize how one can get accustomed to certain things and accept them as a normal part of their world, but the only time they are noticed is when they are gone. Such was the case with the normal sounds of our march, the only exception being the tramping of our boots, and it was frankly somewhat disturbing, like we were an army of mute spirits marching along. Because of our slower pace, it took us more than a full watch before we pulled close enough to the spot where the Helvetii were crossing that the cavalry ala came galloping back to report to Caesar, marching at the front with Labienus and the other Tribunes in command of the other two Legions, that they had spotted them. Dawn was rapidly approaching, so Caesar wasted no time; we were quickly given the order to draw up into formation, ground our gear and leave it with a rear guard before moving about a half mile further to the north, where we were halted once more. There we were arrayed in a duplexacies, with the Second Cohort anchoring against the banks of the river, the First forming the other end of the first line, and the Third and Fourth between us. We took off the covers of our shield, and were allowed to kneel and wait for the other two Legions to arrive and form the same formation to our right. By the time all this was done, the sky was lightening rapidly, and I realized with a sinking feeling that our chance of total surprise was diminishing as quickly.
