by R. W. Peake
I could feel the heat rising in my face, pleased that he not only remembered my name but was aware I had gotten promoted, and I have no idea what came out of my mouth. Evidently it was nothing forward or disrespectful, because he gave a wave then turned to the front gate, and we formed up behind him in a column of twos, with me in the last rank, trotting out behind him, enjoying the feeling as we waved to our friends who gathered to watch us leave. I do not know who it was that said it, but a voice called out something that would become etched in the history of the Legion, and become one of our first and most famous nicknames.
“Look boys,” a voice rang out, “Caesar promised to honor the 10th, but he’s going one better. He’s making us knights.”
There was a roar of laughter and cheering at that remark, which even Caesar thought was witty, since he mentioned the incident in his account of the campaign. So it was with the sounds of approbation ringing in our ears that we left to meet Ariovistus.
The meeting place itself was a small mound of earth that stood in the middle of the surrounding plain, making ambush impossible because there was nowhere that one could conceal a force of any size. We approached the mound from the south, Ariovistus from the north, his escort of ten men with him. As we drew near, I could see that the tales of the great size of the Germans may indeed have not been an exaggeration, with every man in the escort looking to be at least my height, and a couple of men were plainly taller. Ariovistus himself was a powerfully built man of about forty, wearing a helmet decorated with the horns of some wild beast, with engraved images that I could not distinguish from where I was, though it was obviously very fine work. He disdained wearing any armor, preferring to bare his chest, I supposed so that Caesar could see the many scars he bore from battle. His arms were decorated with a series of golden bands, and around his neck was a torq of gold, also engraved, while his hair was jet black, with streaks of grey in the part flowing over his shoulders, and his expression was haughty as he made his formal greeting to Caesar. He made his contempt for us clear by not even looking in our direction, and I could feel the anger rising in my gut as I watched him face Caesar. His bodyguards’ demeanor was a mirror image of Ariovistus, and they made comments to each other while pointing at us, laughing harshly at the jokes they made at our expense. Locking eyes with one man in particular, I noticed that he was a contrast to Ariovistus in that his hair was as yellow as gold and his complexion fairer than his chief’s. Otherwise, he was dressed in the same manner, carrying a long sword at his side while holding a spear. His lips curled in open contempt when our eyes met, as if to tell me that he had taken my measure already and found me wanting, making it all I could do to keep from charging him right then, except I was smart enough to know that this was exactly what he intended. During our ride to the meeting Caesar had ordered us that under no circumstances were we to respond or retaliate to anything that the Germans said or did, no matter how provocative. That would have been enough information for most commanders, except that Caesar actually took the time to explain why he was giving those orders. Years later, with more experience in leading men, I now believe he knew this would make us even more adamant about following those orders to the letter. Once a common soldier feels that he is trusted enough to be taken into the confidence of his commander, and explained the wider implications of his orders, that man would rather die than see that trust betrayed by violating them. It was rare enough that we were given any reason for what we were doing, so when a man like Caesar took that extra step, it ensured that he could have the utmost confidence that his command would be followed to the letter. He explained to us that the problem lay in the status of Ariovistus; as I mentioned earlier, he was a Friend and Ally of Rome, and that is a legal status that gives the appointed certain rights and privileges under Roman law. Because of that status, Caesar could not be seen in any way to provoke Ariovistus, or make a move that could be deemed offensive in nature. Ariovistus had to be clearly seen as the aggressor in this battle of wills, so that no matter what the provocation, Caesar could not afford to strike the first blow. Our general went on to explain that he was positive that this talk Ariovistus proposed was a pretext for provoking Caesar in some way, and he warned us that it was highly likely that either Ariovistus, or his bodyguard would either say or do something in an attempt to elicit a response that could be turned against us. This warning was in our minds as we sat our horses, watching the men across from us. Despite the mound being relatively small, it was large enough that Caesar and Ariovistus could pull off to a spot several yards away where they could talk privately, leaving the twenty of us to glare at each other and mutter curses under our breath.
“By the gods, they do stink, don’t they?”
This came from the man next to me, from the Fifth Cohort, a Signifer named Frontinus. I forced a laugh, anxious to show the Germans that I found them just as amusing as they found us. “They must be afraid of water,” I replied, still keeping my eyes on the yellow haired man, who was doing the same.
“Bathing is for women, Roman.” Despite the accent, the Latin was intelligible, and I was not altogether surprised that it was the yellow-haired man who spoke.
“Ah, you know our language,” said a Sergeant named Rufus from the First Cohort, a man who was close to my size. “Then you’ll understand this, won’t you, you cunnus?”
The yellow-haired man hissed at this epithet, his eyes narrowed in rage, and he moved his horse a few steps towards us, hand on the hilt of his blade, before one of the other Germans gave him a sharp order. He stopped, but was clearly reluctant, spitting on the ground to show his contempt.
“You have a loose tongue, Roman. I think I am going to have to cut it out some day.”
Rufus laughed, and pointed to the long blade. “With that thing? You can try, but your guts will be on the ground before you get it out of your scabbard. How long does it take to draw that thing anyway?”
“Fast enough that your head would be at your feet before you could blink, you Roman dog.” The German’s face was flushed red, his tension clearly being communicated to his mount, which began prancing nervously, its head tossing as it waited for a command from its rider.
Rufus laughed again then looked over his shoulder at the rest of us, winking as he jerked his thumb at the Germans. “They’re full of all sorts of tough talk, aren’t they boys? Hopefully we’ll get to find out how much of it’s more than just talk.”
We laughed in agreement, more to anger the Germans than anything. With the exchange over, at least for the moment, we continued to sit on our horses as Caesar and Ariovistus talked. A third of a watch passed, then another third, and we began to get bored. None of us dismounted because we were not given leave to, so I was finding that my rear was growing increasingly sore as the time dragged on. Shifting my weight around the best that I could, I fervently wished that this meeting would end. Caesar and Ariovistus had been jawing at each other, politely at first, then growing animated, although Caesar was far more reserved than Ariovistus, who made grand gestures with his hands, even thumping his chest a time or two. We could not hear exactly what was being said, but the tone was clear enough; there did not seem to be an agreement of any sort in the offing.
I am not sure exactly how long into the talk that it happened, but I do know that I was completely caught by surprise when I heard a sharp whinny and looked over just in time to see one our men’s horses rearing in the air, almost throwing him off. As I watched the Roman struggling to control his mount, I saw the reason for it; a rock came sailing through the air to smack another horse in the rump, causing it to hop away, its rider furiously trying to control the beast. Looking over I saw the Germans, smiles on their faces, just as one of them hurled yet another rock, this time thrown hard, barely missing the head of one of our men, who jerked back in reflex. Suddenly, a scene of calm transformed as both horses and riders became agitated. By reflex, I found my hand curling around the hilt of my sword, the move not lost on the yellow-haired man who sneered a
t me and beckoned in a gesture of challenge.
“Hold, men!” This came from Rufus, who was in charge of our detachment, and I remembered Caesar’s words, realizing that this was exactly what he had warned about.
These Germans were trying to provoke us, and it was only our discipline that kept the situation from getting out of control. Seeing that they were not succeeding in baiting us, the Germans increased the fury of their provocation, if not the style, continuing to throw rocks at us, while we did our best to dodge them. I heard a grunt of pain as one found its mark, striking a man in the ribs and he reeled in the saddle for a moment before regaining his balance, his horse turning in aimless circles as it looked to the other mounts to see what to do. The air was full of rocks whizzing by as all ten of the Germans now joined in, forcing me to unlash my shield, bringing it up to a protective position. Caesar said not to fight back, but he had said nothing about defending ourselves, and the other men followed suit, using their shields to block most of the rocks thrown at us. A couple more struck our mounts, causing them to jerk in pain, yet even as we were absorbed with this problem, one of our men saw that a fairly large group of Germans had materialized from somewhere and seemed to be headed in our direction. Calling out in alarm, he pointed out their location to the rest of us, increasing our concern about the situation. Rufus turned his mount and trotted to Caesar to report what was happening. Caesar turned to look, saw what was taking place, then turned back to Ariovistus and said something to him in a sharp tone of voice, but he was answered only with a shrug. Clearly angry, Caesar jerked his mount around, cantered to us and called for us to withdraw from the mound, which we did, the jeers and taunts of the Germans ringing in our ears.
The ride back to camp was an angry one, a mood that Caesar shared with us. We had acted in good faith, and the arrogance of the Germans, along with their disdain for the normal protocols of events like this talk rubbed us all very raw indeed. Each of us swore that we would have vengeance, and Caesar assured us that we would have the opportunity, but only when the time was right. When we entered the camp, the men who gathered to greet us could instantly see that things had not gone well, and I had barely returned my mount to the enclosure before I was swarmed by my friends wanting to know what happened. When I relayed what transpired, their anger was soon added to the original ten men who went with Caesar. Before dawn the next day, the whole army was spoiling for a fight, and took every opportunity to let Caesar know that they were ready for battle the moment he commanded it. For two days nothing happened before Ariovistus sent another envoy requesting another talk. This time Caesar was not about to expose himself to their treachery, instead choosing two men, an interpreter named Procilus and a man named Metius who Caesar believed would be safe from harm, since Metius was not high ranking and he knew Ariovistus. I do not know if Caesar calculated that Ariovistus would do something provocative and made his choice accordingly, picking someone whose loss would not do great damage to the army or his prestige, but it still worked out that way. On arriving to speak with Ariovistus both the interpreter and Metius were accused of spying and slapped in chains. That same day, Ariovistus moved his whole army, which as was the custom of their people, included all the women and children, to a spot at the base of some mountains some six miles to our north. The threat could not have been clearer; he was challenging us to come and fight him. Nevertheless, we stayed in camp. On the next day, he moved his host right past us, in plain view of our walls, to a spot about two miles to our south, cutting off our supply route from the Aedui and Sequani, although there were still supplies coming from the west from other tribes. Regardless, it was a threat, not to mention disconcerting, to have such a large host effectively in our rear. Still, we did nothing for five days, short of sending out cavalry patrols that skirmished with the Germans every single day, always coming out the worse for it. One reason for the effectiveness of the German cavalry was that a man on foot was assigned to every rider, this man riding into battle behind the cavalryman, then dismounting and running alongside once they got close to the fighting. Whenever they needed to move rapidly once dismounted, they would grab onto the horse’s mane and lift their feet off the ground, being transported in this manner much more quickly than if they were on foot alone. It was effective, and made defeating their cavalry very difficult. Finally on the sixth day, Caesar mustered the army, arraying us outside the camp walls facing south to challenge Ariovistus. He deployed our artillery on the rampart of the camp walls to provide cover and we stood there for the better part of a day, challenging Ariovistus to come and fight, which he refused to do. This boosted our morale even more; as our Centurions pointed out to us, no doubt at Caesar’s orders, if the Germans were as invincible as we were told, would they have ignored the chance to destroy us? The logic was irrefutable, although we were also a receptive audience, and it made us all the more eager to face them. For four more days, dawn would find us arrayed for battle, the 10th always on the right, waiting for Ariovistus, yet every day he refused to face us, causing us to lose our last vestiges of fear for the Germans, beginning to think of them with contempt, with each day fueling our resolve to make them suffer not only for the insults that they had borne us, but for the bother of having to stand in formation for five days in a row. It was the sixth day that saw a change, as instead of being arrayed for battle, we were ordered to form three columns in parallel outside the gate, two Legions to a column. We were ordered to be prepared to deploy into line for battle, the idea being to pull the same trick as Ariovistus by marching right past their camp, where Caesar planned on making a new camp a short distance away from the Germans, albeit smaller than the one we currently occupied. Marching south, we passed by Ariovistus’ camp to a spot about a half-mile further south, where the exploratores had marked out the boundaries for a camp for two Legions. Our new Legions were tasked with constructing the camp, with the rest of us standing in line of battle, daring Ariovistus to try and stop us. This was a challenge that he could not ignore, so he sent a large force out to try disrupting the construction of the camp, but his men were repulsed with heavy losses, and the camp was erected despite their efforts. The 11th and 12th were left at the new camp, while the rest of the army marched back to our original camp. The threat to our supply lines was now answered, so that all that was left was to fight the Germans and send them to Hades.
The next morning, Caesar led the four Legions in the big camp out to challenge Ariovistus, this time venturing farther away from the camp and the protection of our artillery, but despite standing there the whole day, Ariovistus still refused to send his army to meet us. Finally, about mid-afternoon, we were ordered back to the camp, and it was only then that Ariovistus made a move, except this time it was against the small camp. Watching from our rampart, we observed the Germans as they made several attempts to storm the walls, and it was clear that the fighting was fierce as the new Legions fought desperately to hold the fort. They suffered heavy losses, but they gave better than they got, and the heaps of bodies piled around the walls were clear evidence of the price the Germans paid. Ironically it was the living Germans that were taken prisoner who provided the most value, since it was through them that Caesar learned what was keeping Ariovistus in camp. The Germans are a superstitious lot, which is saying much coming from a Roman, and they considered their old women to be the seers and soothsayers of their people. Not surprisingly, Ariovistus and his sub-chiefs went to these old crones for counsel on the best times to wage war. These women told Ariovistus that he had to avoid battle before the next full moon. This was all that Caesar needed to know; it was three days before the full moon, so there was no time to waste.
Marching out at dawn the next morning, we repeated our actions of the previous days except that instead of standing in front of our camp, we moved across the plain to join with the 11th and 12th from the small camp, about midway between the two. In order to make our numbers appear larger than they were, Caesar ordered the auxiliary troops marching with us to form u
p in front of the small camp, giving the impression that we were keeping all six Legions in the big camp instead of sending the 11th and 12th to the small one. Drawing up before the German camp, we did so close enough so that they knew there was no way to avoid battle, with Caesar arraying us in the acies triplex and us on the now-customary right wing, where we would be led by Caesar himself. With the sun climbing in the sky, it promised to be a fine day with just a few clouds. It was getting close to autumn, and we there were already mornings where we were greeted by frost on the ground, but this day was shaping up to be a fair one, if we lived to see it through. After perhaps a third of a watch, the wagons that served as the main gates of their camp were pushed aside, whereupon the Germans came streaming out. Because the walls of their camp were merely the wagons drawn in a huge circle, their sides served as the ramparts, and was where the women and children of the Germans now crowded, sitting on the top of the wagons, their arms outstretched as they urged their men on to destroy us.
“At least we have an audience,” Rufio remarked. “Let’s be sure and give ‘em a show boys.”
This drew a laugh from us, though it was short-lived as we watched the Germans continue coming out of their camp, and coming and coming. There seemed to be no end to them, as they formed up in seven different groups, according to their tribe. They were the Harudes, Marcomanni, Triboces, Vangiones, Nemetes, Sedusii and Suebi, the last wearing their hair in a knot either on the side or the top of their head. Regardless of their tribe, they were all bristling with weapons, mostly spears and long swords, and it appeared that perhaps little more than half wore some sort of armor, while perhaps a third of them were wearing both helmet and armor of some type. During their deployment they were chanting their war cries, the sound rolling over us as they worked themselves up into a frenzy. Just as with the Helvetii, they were fighting for their women and children, who would watch them either win or die, and we all knew that we were going to have to fight our very best this day. I will give them this as well; they were certainly large and well built, most of them looking to be around my height or a bit less, so I certainly would have been no giant the way I was among my own people, and it flustered me a bit to see a whole army of men my size, although I tried to hide it as best I could. There was a brief pause once the Germans finished forming in their groups, and it looked like we were outnumbered by at least six or seven to one. Finally, after what seemed ages, a horn sounded and with a mighty roar, the Germans launched their attack.
