by Tanya Allan
The Tribune stood up and started to walk up and down as he thought about the ramifications of what I had suggested. There were risks, as the idea was revolutionary in these days. If it failed, he could be seen as a laughing stock, but if it succeeded, his eyes narrowed once more, as he imagined the potential of this succeeding. This was truly an ambitious man, and I think he was trying to imagine himself as emperor with a praetorian guard of flaxen haired Valkyries.
“Gaius, there is some merit in her suggestion. You will work with this woman. See she is given limited freedom to set things up, and we will see how it progresses.”
“No, Tribune, I will swear an oath, but you will give me command. I will work with Gaius, but as a comrade not as a slave. My lieutenant and I will be given good quarters, as any officer would have, and supplied with decent clothes and equipment. My troops will not be slaves, but will have similar service indentures as all Roman soldiers have. I either work properly or not at all,” I said.
He again looked at me as if I was somehow trying something untoward against him.
“Look. I can deliver, but I’m not a miracle worker. Give me the recruits, the training team and the equipment, and I will give you your RSD team.”
“RSD?”
“Reconnaissance, search and destroy.”
“Hmm, I like it. Very well, but for the moment Gaius is your immediate commander, so you do what he says.”
I regarded Gaius for a moment and then nodded.
“I agree.”
“Then, take the oath.”
I stood in front of him’ placed my right hand over my left breast and looked him in the eye.
“I, Layla, hereby solemnly swear allegiance to the Roman Emperor, whomsoever he might be, his officers and commanders in the field, and until relieved of my oath, the Tribune Marcus Gallinas. I do this freely and without fear or favour, for such time that is mutually beneficial.”
The last line made Gaius grin, but Gallinas shot me a suspicious glance.
“Mutually beneficial?”
“Once the Empire ceases to be an advantage to me and I to the Empire, then we part friends.”
His eyes narrowed, but he nodded, holding out his hand.
I shook, Roman style, clasping his wrist while he clasped mine.
“You look like an expensive whore, but behave like a soldier; how is that possible?” he asked.
“I would not question my behaviour, but your own taste in whores.”
Gaius couldn’t keep his laugh in, this time, but Gallinas also broke into a smile.
“I will hold you to your oath, woman. I fully intend to get value from you,” the haughty Tribune said.
“Fine, but keep your end of the bargain, and give us somewhere decent to rest and a decent meal.”
Chapter Five
The giggles and laughter did not last long on the faces of those ten men selected for special training. They were all seasoned veterans and solid NCOs, whilst being young and hopefully fit enough to undertake the tasks I had in mind. They were also men; cynical and bigoted as any male soldiers through the ages.
I needed instructors, capable of seeing the bigger picture, and seeing beyond irrelevancies such as physical strength and gender.
After swearing my oath, I returned without escort to the gaol with only Gaius for company. The guard opened Iona’s cell door, and I urged her to join me.
She did so, hesitantly and obviously afraid. However, Gaius did not wait for our happy reunion, but simply turned and walked out. We had to follow or get lost in the military mess they called a camp.
It was not yet an established town, although more permanent structures were in the course of being built. The Roman legionary had to be a true Jack of all trades, often turning his hand to engineering, plumbing and construction as often as fighting and pillaging.
“The intention is to do away with all tents by the autumn,” Gaius told us, as we walked swiftly through the hustle and bustle that marked the growth of the place.
There was a tented city in which the soldiers still lived. However, there was order, as they had established decent kitchens and eating areas a long way from the latrines and wash areas.
As the brick and stone buildings were constructed, gradually, the tents were to disappear. They had their own brick factory, with kilns and moulds within the camp. Local stones were being hacked by soldiers who were also masons. At present, the officers were the only people housed in more permanent structures. It was in the legionaries’ best interests to construct proper barrack blocks and bath houses before winter took hold. Many of these men were from nations that bordered the Mediterranean, so winter here was far bleaker and colder than they were used to.
Gaius took us to a small, two-story building made of bricks and tiles on the rood. It was tucked away at the end of a row of bigger buildings.
“This barrack has only just been finished, and is yet to be assigned. There is a larger room on the upper floor and two rooms on the ground floor. I thought your women would be able to use the upper floor as a dormitory room and you could use the ground floor for whatever you want. One would be suitable for sleeping,” he said, leering at the two of us as if to tell us that he knew what else we might be doing.
I ignored him and entered the building, heading upstairs first.
The single long room was like barrack rooms all over. It wasn’t really big enough to house more than forty girls in bunk beds, but then I wasn’t that bothered. I just needed a nucleus by the time we moved south to London. If I could have thirty to forty trained by that time, then I would be well satisfied.
“I’ll want forty tiered bunk beds, so twenty sets of twos in here, with suitable chests or lockers for their equipment and clothing. I guess ten sets on each side with a clear area up the middle and at one end for social activity.”
“Anything else?”
“Not at the moment,” I said, heading back downstairs.
One room was bigger than the other. I selected the smaller room as a bed room for Iona and myself. The other room could be an office come briefing room, where I could work with the instructors and recruits.
“Two beds for us in the smaller room, and a decent briefing table and enough benches for all the recruits in here. We’ll work outside mostly, but the weather is so crap, I need somewhere dry to work as well.”
He smiled slightly.
“Anything else, your ladyship?” he asked, sarcastically.
“I’m sure I can think of something as we go.”
“Do you want some better clothes?”
“What’s wrong with these; they seemed fine when I was a captive?”
“You’re not a captive anymore,” he observed.
“True, but I’m not some serving wench either. I don’t want what passes for female fashion in these parts.”
He snorted with humour.
“You’re not likely to find anything like that here. The local women wear enough to keep the damp and cold out.”
“How about a visit to the legion’s tailor?”
“Why not?” he asked with a smile.
Janus Falisimus had been a soldier, but as he was the son of an indentured tailor, he had learned how to cut and sew long before he was taught how to cut, slash and stab.
Retired from soldiering by virtue of only having one leg remaining, he was now a free Roman citizen who chose to remain with the legion as a tailor.
His detached leg was somewhere in Gaul, in all probability long since eaten by wild animals and now decayed into the dust.
His stump, below the knee, fitted into a brass cup and a wooden peg. He could walk with the characteristic walk of a man with a wooden leg. The jokes came to my mind, so I shelved them for a more appropriate time. For all his misfortunes, he was a robust and jolly man, red in the face and full of humorous anecdotes of which many of the more experienced soldiers had heard rather too often by now.
Obviously pleased to have a fresh audience for his story-telling, he welcomed
both Iona and me into his cramped and confusing quarters and proceeded to quiz us on our requirements.
The Roman army was well-equipped by, not only the standards of the day, but probably even compared with armies as late as the English Civil War in the 1600s. Okay, so they did not have gunpowder, but they still managed to design and utilise powerful artillery pieces, capable of discharging missiles over some distance without the stuff.
My designs were to remain in line with what was familiar, but to bring in ideas that would enhance what existed and improve the wearer’s protection and efficiency.
To start with, my ten instructors took over a barrack room in another empty block next to the one allocated to the females. They were a bit unsure, but Gaius was careful in selecting those he felt would be the best for the revolutionary new unit.
Social mores in these days relegated women to being little more than chattels. A Roman woman was not deemed capable of independent thought and action, as even the wealthy women of Rome had to have their financial affairs managed by a father or brother while single, or her husband once married. Indeed, there was a practice of women counting their age as from their date of marriage, as everything before that was irrelevant. There were exceptions, but I knew I was facing a real up-hill battle against social prejudice and bigotry.
Those first few days were vaguely reminiscent of my first posting as a newly promoted Marine sergeant to a unit on a base upon which I’d never served before.
Just like all the marines in my new unit, all the legionaries were watching us, ready to judge on even the smallest mistake. Only this time it was multiplied because Iona and I were not Roman and had the additional disadvantage of being female. The worst were those with some rank, such as the equivalent of the NCOs. The ten ‘selectees’ were not that much different, so I knew that we would have to prove ourselves in the first few days if we were to gain their respect.
It would have been just the same in any army at any time in history.
Even having done extensive research into the rank structures, I still found the Roman military ranks vague and misleading at times. This was probably because of the interwoven political appointments within the command structure. I spent some time talking with Gaius about the legions.
He told me what I had already surmised from my research. Most of the commanders of the legions, and many of those given high command were political appointments. They were either senators in their own right, or patricians of noble birth for whom such a position was a virtual certainty in the near future.
Marcus Gallinas was a classic example of this. He was a Tribune, or a Tribuni anqusticlavii, or Narrow Band Tribune. Each legion had five of these lower ranking tribunes who were normally from the equestrian class and some had at least some years of prior military experience. I was surprised to learn from Gaius that Gallinas had been a soldier for only three years. They often served the role of administrative officer to keep them out of harm’s way. Gallinas had used some political pressure to persuade the Legate to release him to undertake this last campaign despite him having no combat experience.
Gaius also told me that the current Legion Legate, or Legatus Legionis was a wily old soldier who now held senator rank. His name was Corvin Rufius, and he was very supportive of the new emperor Trajan, as were many soldiers. Most did not like the politicians and conniving civilian patricians back in Rome, who, in their opinion, got fat while the army did all the work for little reward. Trajan was a soldier, and that was what the army liked.
Gaius had served with Rufius for many years, having risen through the ranks under the old man’s protection.
“I had cause to save Rufius’ ass a couple of times in Germania. He was an impetuous commander when he was younger, full of good ideas that weren’t always fully thought out. His problem, and that of Gallinas, is that they’re bred to believe that they are naturally superior to the rest of us. He learned a couple of salutary lessons early on that have made him a first class general. He would seek advice, and even if he didn’t necessarily follow it, he’d at least surround himself with experienced commanders who knew what the hell they were talking about and weren’t afraid to tell it as they saw it rather than these glorified yes men with which the politicians surround themselves.”
“Experienced commanders like you?”
“Hell, I’m a lowly Centurion, so back then I was even lower.”
“Ranks mean nothing in the experience game, and well you know it,” I said.
He smiled, so I knew that I was right.
“So who is Rufius’ boss?” I asked.
“That’s tricky to answer, as technically, there are two: the Governor and the Imperial Legate. For a long while, the Legate was the governor, but just this year we have a new Governor who has taken over. I think it’s because we’ve had another legion ship over from Rome.”
The Imperial Legate or Legatus Augusti pro Praetore, who acted as Governor of the province had been Publius Metillius Nepos. He was in charge of the whole region up to AD 97. In 98 AD Tiberius Avidius Quietus was appointed Governor by the new Emperor Trajan, replacing Nepos. These were unsettled times in Rome, as assassinations were rife, and Trajan had been the commander that some of the legions declared their Emperor.
In no hurry to take up residence in Rome, Trajan took two years to get there, but once there undertook a complete overhaul of the system. It must have worked for he ruled for nineteen years and died in office of natural causes.
Politics back then was very much the same as it was in the twentieth and twenty-first centuries, but perhaps a little more lethal. Back-stabbing was not metaphoric, but a literal day-to-day possibility. Shrewd senators would try to assess who was the next most likely emperor and hitch their wagon to them in the hope of achieving wealth, power and status within the new order.
The emperors never liked the governors to remain anywhere for too long, as they would start to settle down and perhaps less taxes would find their way back to Rome, as a rising power base was often expensive to bank-roll. Armies could be bought if the purse was big enough and the promises were realistic propositions. Most governors remained in post for three or four years, moving onward and hopefully upwards at the whim of their emperor.
I shook my head, as although these details were important, they did not really affect my plans. I had to focus on those aspects that I could deal with, and Roman politics was something way out of my league, for the moment.
I had the ten men on a fitness assessment programme, just to get a feel of the current fitness levels within the ranks. That way, none of us wore uniform and armour. Stripped down to the bare essentials, the only difference was gender, and as Iona and I were the only females, I think the men felt they’d drawn a cushy number. Until, that is, they lagged behind us on a ten mile run while carrying a pack of rocks on our backs. Iona struggled a bit, but with my help and encouragement, she kept up with me all the way.
Over the next couple of weeks, their initial disdain turned to slow respect and latterly to a degree of loyalty and pride. We were so different and so innovative that they saw that this was a unit worth belonging to.
I was grateful when the tailor sent word that he had finished producing our first patterns of uniform, as I wanted to move on in the training, and I wanted to look the part, and appearing like a bedraggled whore so that the recruits dribbled whenever I was close to them was not my idea of instilling sound military discipline.
“I’m not sure about these,” the tailor said as I walked into his little shop.
“You don’t have to be, but I do.”
“Why green?”
“What colour are the grass and the trees?”
“Ah.”
The Roman armour essentially was divided into two types: enlisted men and officers. The officers wore flashy breastplates carefully measured and then beaten into the shape of the wearer, before being highly polished and adorned. The other ranks wore bands of metal joined in such a way to give flexibility and moveme
nt as well as protection.
Leather was used as a backing and inside the helmets to ensure a snug and comfortable fit. The armour and helmets were heavy, so the men would often march great distances without it, having wagons bringing the equipment close behind them. However, if unexpected attacks could be possible, they had to march in full kit, which required a high level of strength and stamina to endure for the long periods that might be foreseen.
Personal weapons consisted of the short stabbing spear designed to work from behind the shields, and a short sword to cut, hack and stab as a secondary weapon. There were archers, javelin throwers and longer spear carriers that all had their purposes.
My uniforms and equipment reflected the unique nature and envisaged functions of the recon unit.
Green tunics and pants as camouflage, the standard legionaries’ sandal (with hobnails for grip) with the leather strapping wound up the leg as support. The Romans just did not make good boots, but with soft buckskin socks up to the knees, the combination was as effective and comfortable as good boots. They were also as waterproof, perhaps a little better, as there were no lace holes. There was an advantage that over soft ground, the hobnail sandals could be lost and the buckskins were soft, silent and left less tracks.
Armour is always a compromise. The heavier the armour, the better the protection, but limited the durability and flexibility of the wearer. The lighter the armour, then the wearer was more capable of long durations and enhanced physical activity, but would be less well protected.
I had to assess as to the positive and negative aspects of the whole situation. Firstly, by examining the job description, I knew that heavy armour was going to be a complete waste of time. Firstly, if the unit was to be fast and effective, then the minimum armour was the order of the day. Also, if the wearers were to be women, then both body-shape and strength were factors.
There were three choices of steel armour; plate, straps or mail. Plate was expensive, heavy and inflexible. Straps required fitting and riveting. Mail was flexible, but was hard to make, liable to decay badly in damp conditions (like the British weather) and could be heavy. Mail was fine against one-to-one sword hacking, but pretty useless against penetrative strikes, such as sword thrusts, javelins and arrows.
