R. Peake - Marching With Caesar - Conquest of Gaul

As we were breaking camp the next morning, the alarm went up once again. This time, however, it was not just three men, but several hundred, all of them mounted and who watched us from the same spot as the first three. Again there was a stir among all of us, since this was obviously not just a scouting party, even though there was no way that they could match us in strength and were extremely unlikely to attack us. Because of the presence of these men, who one of the scouts confirmed were Lusitani, we marched out in a column of squares called an agmentumquadratum , which is an extremely difficult formation to control on the march, except I think it was more just to show the Lusitani that we had seen them and were prepared for anything they cared to throw at us than from a fear of being attacked. We were told to continue carrying our shields on our back but to remove the covers so that they were instantly ready should we need them. It turned out that we did not; instead, the horsemen were content to shadow us as we marched, always staying just out of reach of a sudden attack by our cavalry screen. After about two parts of a watch, the column was halted, and we were shaken out into our standard marching formation, with our Legion in the middle this time. Again, because of my normal marching place on the outside of the column, I was able to pass the time watching the men on the horses, who were split into two groups, with one group on each side of the column. Even with my lack of experience then, I could at least tell that these men were born to ride a horse; indeed, it was hard to tell where the man stopped and the horse started. Perhaps, I thought, they are really centaurs, and I let this thought occupy my mind as we marched; it is in such ways that one learns to pass the monotonous watches of marching, staring at the back of the man in front of you.

It was shortly before we were to stop for the day when it happened. Suddenly, from behind us came the blaring of bucina , and then the cornicen , the curved round horn with a deep bass voice that carries a great distance and is used to relay orders in battle, instantly telling us that something important was going on. Craning our necks to look to the rear, it was still impossible to see, and indeed, as we learned later the sounding of the horns that we heard were merely the relayed signals sent up to the front. Whatever happened had occurred far to the rear, although we did not know that then.

“Eyes front you cunni ,” the Pilus Prior snarled as he strode by us down the side of the column, heading towards the rear to see what was going on. “Let me find out what all this racket’s about.”

The column had halted, and just a few heartbeats later Caesar and what looked like his entire staff came galloping past, heading in the same direction. Shortly after, one of the cavalry ala that was up front came back as well.

“What do you think it is?” Scribonius asked me, as if I would have any better idea than he would. "The gods only know,” I answered, trying to hide my irritation at being asked a question to which I obviously did not know the answer.

“My guess is that those bastards who've been following us picked off some stragglers,” this came from Calienus, and we instantly accepted this as truth since Calienus was a veteran.

There was a buzz of conversation from all the men speculating about what happened, with the consensus seeming to be what Calienus had predicted, so now it was just a matter of waiting to see what the truth was.

Vinicius came to us and ordered, “Keep alert. Don’t keep your attention to the back of the column. This may be a trick to draw our attention away from some other point.”

The reality of this hit me immediately, and I snapped my head to look around. My heart leaped a little when I saw that the horsemen who had been on my side of the column the whole day were gone.

“Where did those horsemen go?” I asked Vinicius, hoping that one of us was paying attention. He had been.

“They peeled off a mile or so back, a little while before the alarm sounded,” he replied. Inexperienced I may have been, but I knew that this was not a good sign. Had they rejoined their comrades to launch an attack on the rear?

In fact, Calienus was right. One of the wagons had a mule go lame and was forced to drop from the column. A Century had been assigned to guard it while the rest of the wagons continued, a spare animal being drawn from the pool of spares and the lame beast slaughtered, meaning someone would get mule for supper. When that happened, the Lusitani obviously decided that this was the moment for which they were waiting. Apparently sending a rider to the group that had been on my side of the column, they raced back to join forces to support the attack launched by their comrades in the second group. It was a short but bitter fight, the aftermath of which we saw once the Century was escorted into the camp with the cavalry. Several men wore bandages on various parts of their body, but the most sobering sight was the wagon, its driver seat soaked in blood, with a number of spear shafts protruding from the wooden sides. However, it was the extra cargo that riveted our attention, and silenced all of us immediately. The men of the Century gently unloaded the bodies of two of their comrades, their corpses in that shapelessly limp form that only the dead possess once their spirits have fled their body and the spark is gone. The camp, for all the usual hustle, bustle and noise of thousands of men talking and going about their business, stopped completely as every single eye turned towards the Praetorium , where the wagon had stopped. These were the first deaths in combat that these Legions had suffered; while the 7th, 8th and 9th were veterans in the sense of the amount of time served, they had not seen any combat to that point. As we learned later it was our comrades in the 8th Legion, 3rd Cohort that were hit, and it suddenly made what we were doing very real. Instinctively I moved towards Vibius, to stand closer to him, sharing in silence the burden of lost innocence. This was no longer a game, and we glanced at each other, both of us giving a look that communicated that fact.

The one consolation for all of us was that the Century inflicted several casualties on the Lusitani, well in excess of what they suffered. Still, the camp was the quietest any of us ever heard it that night as we all sat at our fires, choosing this night to stay with our closest companions. Normally, the men would wander from one area to the other to spend time with other friends outside their Century, yet this night, as if by unspoken agreement, everyone chose to spend that time with their tentmates. Even Didius was silent that night, although I was not sure whether it was due to his own thoughts or because there were no takers for his inevitable attempts to fleece others. Whatever the cause I was thankful for it, being in no mood to hear him prattling on that night.

Finally breaking the silence, Remus said, “Well, at least they took a few of the bastards with them.”

“I was talking to a friend in the 8th,” Calienus spoke up, “and they said that there were more than twenty bodies around the wagon. Now that,” he finished quietly, “is how a Roman dies. Taking as many of the cunni with him as he can.”

We all nodded our agreement at this, although to be truthful we had no idea what we were talking about. The Pilus Prior came up to us and squatted by the fire. We all braced for some sort of cursing for paying too much attention to what was going on in the rear of the column, but none of were prepared for his true purpose.

“Evening boys.”

We all replied automatically, still worried about what was to come.

“How’s everyone holding up?”