Caesar Triumphant- Chapter 8
As disgruntled as Caesar's men were, they nevertheless dug. And dug. Thousands of shovels threw mounds of dirt up to form the basis for the rampart of what would be a line of fortifications that extended almost 16 miles along the ridge. The northern end overlooked the one northernmost passage from the interior out to the huge bay behind them, where the fleet was going to be anchored, with the southern end overlooking a similar pass in that direction. Although Caesar didn't have enough men to cover the entire length, he had his men construct a series of fortified camps, each one holding at least a Legion. Linking each camp, Caesar ordered a road hacked out along the top of the ridge, wide enough for each Legion to march in a column formation, in order to move men to wherever they were needed. Even as experienced as his army was at constructing fortifications, this was a massive undertaking, and would take more than a week before Caesar felt that the bare minimum would be accomplished.
Meanwhile, his scouts continued to range about the countryside, concentrating their efforts to the northwest and northeast, looking for the Wa army, and on the third day after Caesar's army started working, they found what they were looking for. Unfortunately, the small group of riders that came into contact with the outriders of the Wa army were ineptly led, as the entire force was wiped out in an ambush. Consequently, Caesar was unaware of this army's existence for two more days, until they had moved southward along the shores of the great lake to Caesar's west, barely 20 miles away.
"We've finally found the bastards," Primus Pilus Pullus informed his Centurions, gathered in the forum of the camp that was designated for the 10th's use, the northernmost camp where Caesar deemed it the most likely that the Wa would make some sort of attempt to outflank his army. Pullus' news was met with the predictable stir, a buzz of low-toned conversation crackling through the ranks of the 60 Centurions as they murmured to each other about the import of this news. "Silete!" Pullus snapped, his nerves betrayed by the harshness of his command. "You're as bad as the rankers! This isn't the first time we've faced this, so stop acting like it!"Chastened, the men immediately fell silent to listen to their Primus Pilus, who took a deep breath before he continued. "We don't know all that much, but there's a lot of them, and they're camped on the shores of that big lake we heard about. So far, though, they haven't budged for the last couple days." "What are our orders, Primus Pilus?" Scribonius, the commander of the Second Cohort asked, and in fact, this was prearranged between the two of them, because Pullus had predicted that this news would unsettle his Centurions, a judgement proven correct by their reaction. "We're going to do what we did at Alesia, and at Ecbatana," Pullus said, naming the Parthian city that was the site of a siege and battle that rivaled that of Alesia, for which Caesar had won everlasting fame. "Caesar wants the ground in front of the rampart filled with his lilies, the stakes and all the other little surprises he loves so much." There was an appreciative chuckle from the men at this, each of them thinking back to the two times such extensive traps had been laid. Alesia had been particularly brutal; some of these Centurions, in the ranks as they had been back then, still smarted over the money they lost from wagers placed on how long Gauls who were hooked on the lilies, the barbed iron points skewering their calves and keeping them in place, could survive being the targets of their javelin practice. Some of those Gauls had looked like blood-soaked porcupines by the time they were through, and there were some rueful memories as these Centurions stood listening to Pullus. Well, more than one of them thought, this might give them a chance to make some of that money they lost back then back.
This was the start of a grim race against time, all the men of Caesar's army knowing that every Wa they could disable or kill with a well-placed stake, or a sharpened iron hook, was one less screaming, sword or spear-waving Wa they would have to face trying to clamber up the rampart to skewer them. Now that they were located, Caesar demanded reports several times a watch, so that men were seen constantly galloping back and forth across the valley floor, the lake barely a glint of blue on the horizon. The Wa army wasn't visible from the ridge, although every once in a while one of the men would shout at a cloud of dust rising in the air, although that always turned out to be one of Caesar's scouts coming or going, drawing the jeers and curses of his comrades down onto the head of the unfortunate who raised the warning. But for reasons neither the men nor their commander could fathom, the Wa seemed content to stay in their spot on the shore of the lake, despite the fact that Caesar knew without any doubt that the Wa were aware of the location of the Roman army. Just as Caesar's scouts were busy, the Wa scouts had been seen on their small ponies in the vicinity, and in fact a couple of them had been captured, although they never yielded any useful information before they succumbed to the questioning by Prixus. Whatever the reason for their lethargy, Caesar was thankful for it, pushing the men relentlessly to bring the fortifications up to a level that met with his approval. But while men were busy with these traps, others were just as busy, some of them pulling stones from the banks and beds from the several running streams, where they were made perfectly round, to serve as ammunition for the artillery. There were forests of new growth trees along the slopes as well, and from the suitable branches of these trees more scorpion bolts were made. Unfortunately, there was not enough seasoned timber of a sufficient quantity or size to make more artillery pieces, which Caesar was unhappy about, but he had to hope that he and the men would have enough. As it was, Caesar's legions marched with more artillery than any other army of Rome to date, but it was never enough as far as he was concerned. One of the secrets to his success was in his use of artillery to inflict as many casualties on his enemy as possible, even before they came to grips with his Legionaries, so that they were already demoralized from the casualties they suffered as they marched to close within sword length of the Romans.
The men worked through the watches, but on the sixth day they were heartened by the news that the fleet, taking the long way around the huge peninsula they were at the top of had just been spotted rowing northwest along the shore, around the headland that jutted out at the bottom of the bay. "They should be here by second watch tomorrow," Caesar announced to his officers and Primi Pili, all of whom to one degree or another let out a sigh of relief. None of them liked being out of sight of their fleet, especially on this accursed island, and the days spent waiting for them had been tense ones, exacerbated by the knowledge of the Wa army just a day's march away. "Once they are in position, we'll begin transferring every kernel of rice, every pig and every chicken up to the camps," he continued. "Minus what the men of the fleet need of course. But I want our position to be as self-sufficient as possible, just in the event that the Wa do manage to force either of the passes, get behind us and cut us off."What he didn't say, for there was no need, was that if that happened, Caesar and his army would have to force battle, because once they were out of the food that the ships were carrying, there would be no resupply. That knowledge filled his Centurions, particularly Pullus, with a determination that the Wa would be stopped from negotiating the pass.
And to help Pullus in his goal, the next day, when Caesar, Pollio, Hirtius and the rest of his staff went out for a ride to inspect the progress to that point, the commander of the army saw that there was still one weakness to his position. The pass to the north was actually relatively wide; Caesar estimated that the width was almost 3 miles, which meant that the Wa could hug the far slope and avoid the array of artillery to swing around behind his position. However, the Wa couldn't simply march down the middle of the pass either, because of a river and a mass of swampy ground that extended from the banks on either side for perhaps almost a mile. "I want a fortified redoubt of at least 5 Cohorts' strength over on that far slope," Caesar pointed across the floor of the pass, "and I want it by the end of the day." "Caesar, do we have any idea how deep that river is? Or how soft the ground is? I can tell from here that it's swamp, but have any of our scouts surveyed the ground?" Pollio asked. "Yes," Caesar replied, not perturbed in the slightest to be questioned. "They say that it will support men, but only if they're spread out, and the river is shallow, with a rocky bottom." "So how are they going to get any artillery across?" this came from Hirtius. "They're going to carry the scorpions, and that's all, but I'm going to give them a Legion's worth of scorpions, and extra ammunition. All we want to do is to keep them from going on the far side of the river. With the muck down there, they're likely to keep close to the slope, but only if we have someone on the other side making sure that they don't go on the other side of the river."His orders given, Caesar turned away to resume his inspection of the rest of the position.
The 5 Cohorts were on the move less than a watch later, accompanied by a cavalry escort, and as they discovered, the ground they had to cross to get to the far ridge was very soggy, the horses plunged almost to their stomachs in the worst spots, while the men went knee deep. They arrived at the far slope filthy and tired, but they were men hardened from years of such toil, and they knew the stakes for which they were playing, so they paused just long enough to catch their breath before they began work. Siting the position as low on the slope as was practical, the Centurion in charge, Vibius Pacuvius, from the 15th Legion and one of Caesar's Gallic veterans, knew that the farther down the slope he put his camp, the greater the reach of the scorpions. Even so, he detached a Century of men to go down onto the floor of the pass, as close to the edge of the mire as possible to serve as a forward post, their orders to buy as much time as possible if the Wa tried to dislodge the main body. What not just the Centurion on the far slope, but Caesar and by extension the rest of his army was counting on was that the Wa commander would be unwilling to turn his attention to the smaller force because it would expose his rear to the 10th, who had roughly half of the cavalry, plus a force of auxiliaries to complement them.
But the only way they would know was when the Wa army actually began its move. It was two days short of 2 weeks after the fortified line was begun that a group of scouts came galloping across the floor of the plain, trailing dust that hung in the still air, pointing like an arrow back to the northwest from where they had come. Balbus had the duty, and he sent a man to fetch his Primus Pilus, who arrived in time to see the scouts begin laboring up the slope of the ridge, following what had become a well-worn path up to the position 3 miles to the south of the 10th's camp, where Caesar had located his headquarters. "They look like Cerberus was after them," Pulllus commented to his friend, who grunted in agreement. "Probably means those slant-eyed barbarians are on the move," was Balbus' only comment, as Pullus turned away to go back to his tent and don his armor. Because of the distance, Caesar had decreed that his senior Centurions had to ride, at a quick trot, whenever they were summoned to the praetorium, something that Pullus hated to do. His size and weight meant he always had to have a large horse, but all that was available for him was one of the island ponies, meaning his feet were bare inches off the ground, making him feel ridiculous. Fortunately for everyone, the men knew better than to laugh at the sight, but it still didn't help his frame of mind. He was on his pony and already a mile down the road that ran along the top of the ridge, made as smooth and level as possible, to Caesar's exacting standards, when he met the mounted courier galloping his direction.Seeing the large Primus Pilus, the courier curbed his horse, spraying dirt and rocks in all directions, and in his excitement forgot to render his salute. Pullus was about to reprimand him but before he could speak, the courier shouted to him, voice straining with excitement, "Caesar summons you immediately Primus Pilus. The Wa are marching and are expected to be here by nightfall!"
All posts by R.W. Peake on blog.rwpeake.com are copyrighted by the author, 2012.
Meanwhile, his scouts continued to range about the countryside, concentrating their efforts to the northwest and northeast, looking for the Wa army, and on the third day after Caesar's army started working, they found what they were looking for. Unfortunately, the small group of riders that came into contact with the outriders of the Wa army were ineptly led, as the entire force was wiped out in an ambush. Consequently, Caesar was unaware of this army's existence for two more days, until they had moved southward along the shores of the great lake to Caesar's west, barely 20 miles away.
"We've finally found the bastards," Primus Pilus Pullus informed his Centurions, gathered in the forum of the camp that was designated for the 10th's use, the northernmost camp where Caesar deemed it the most likely that the Wa would make some sort of attempt to outflank his army. Pullus' news was met with the predictable stir, a buzz of low-toned conversation crackling through the ranks of the 60 Centurions as they murmured to each other about the import of this news. "Silete!" Pullus snapped, his nerves betrayed by the harshness of his command. "You're as bad as the rankers! This isn't the first time we've faced this, so stop acting like it!"Chastened, the men immediately fell silent to listen to their Primus Pilus, who took a deep breath before he continued. "We don't know all that much, but there's a lot of them, and they're camped on the shores of that big lake we heard about. So far, though, they haven't budged for the last couple days." "What are our orders, Primus Pilus?" Scribonius, the commander of the Second Cohort asked, and in fact, this was prearranged between the two of them, because Pullus had predicted that this news would unsettle his Centurions, a judgement proven correct by their reaction. "We're going to do what we did at Alesia, and at Ecbatana," Pullus said, naming the Parthian city that was the site of a siege and battle that rivaled that of Alesia, for which Caesar had won everlasting fame. "Caesar wants the ground in front of the rampart filled with his lilies, the stakes and all the other little surprises he loves so much." There was an appreciative chuckle from the men at this, each of them thinking back to the two times such extensive traps had been laid. Alesia had been particularly brutal; some of these Centurions, in the ranks as they had been back then, still smarted over the money they lost from wagers placed on how long Gauls who were hooked on the lilies, the barbed iron points skewering their calves and keeping them in place, could survive being the targets of their javelin practice. Some of those Gauls had looked like blood-soaked porcupines by the time they were through, and there were some rueful memories as these Centurions stood listening to Pullus. Well, more than one of them thought, this might give them a chance to make some of that money they lost back then back.
This was the start of a grim race against time, all the men of Caesar's army knowing that every Wa they could disable or kill with a well-placed stake, or a sharpened iron hook, was one less screaming, sword or spear-waving Wa they would have to face trying to clamber up the rampart to skewer them. Now that they were located, Caesar demanded reports several times a watch, so that men were seen constantly galloping back and forth across the valley floor, the lake barely a glint of blue on the horizon. The Wa army wasn't visible from the ridge, although every once in a while one of the men would shout at a cloud of dust rising in the air, although that always turned out to be one of Caesar's scouts coming or going, drawing the jeers and curses of his comrades down onto the head of the unfortunate who raised the warning. But for reasons neither the men nor their commander could fathom, the Wa seemed content to stay in their spot on the shore of the lake, despite the fact that Caesar knew without any doubt that the Wa were aware of the location of the Roman army. Just as Caesar's scouts were busy, the Wa scouts had been seen on their small ponies in the vicinity, and in fact a couple of them had been captured, although they never yielded any useful information before they succumbed to the questioning by Prixus. Whatever the reason for their lethargy, Caesar was thankful for it, pushing the men relentlessly to bring the fortifications up to a level that met with his approval. But while men were busy with these traps, others were just as busy, some of them pulling stones from the banks and beds from the several running streams, where they were made perfectly round, to serve as ammunition for the artillery. There were forests of new growth trees along the slopes as well, and from the suitable branches of these trees more scorpion bolts were made. Unfortunately, there was not enough seasoned timber of a sufficient quantity or size to make more artillery pieces, which Caesar was unhappy about, but he had to hope that he and the men would have enough. As it was, Caesar's legions marched with more artillery than any other army of Rome to date, but it was never enough as far as he was concerned. One of the secrets to his success was in his use of artillery to inflict as many casualties on his enemy as possible, even before they came to grips with his Legionaries, so that they were already demoralized from the casualties they suffered as they marched to close within sword length of the Romans.
The men worked through the watches, but on the sixth day they were heartened by the news that the fleet, taking the long way around the huge peninsula they were at the top of had just been spotted rowing northwest along the shore, around the headland that jutted out at the bottom of the bay. "They should be here by second watch tomorrow," Caesar announced to his officers and Primi Pili, all of whom to one degree or another let out a sigh of relief. None of them liked being out of sight of their fleet, especially on this accursed island, and the days spent waiting for them had been tense ones, exacerbated by the knowledge of the Wa army just a day's march away. "Once they are in position, we'll begin transferring every kernel of rice, every pig and every chicken up to the camps," he continued. "Minus what the men of the fleet need of course. But I want our position to be as self-sufficient as possible, just in the event that the Wa do manage to force either of the passes, get behind us and cut us off."What he didn't say, for there was no need, was that if that happened, Caesar and his army would have to force battle, because once they were out of the food that the ships were carrying, there would be no resupply. That knowledge filled his Centurions, particularly Pullus, with a determination that the Wa would be stopped from negotiating the pass.
And to help Pullus in his goal, the next day, when Caesar, Pollio, Hirtius and the rest of his staff went out for a ride to inspect the progress to that point, the commander of the army saw that there was still one weakness to his position. The pass to the north was actually relatively wide; Caesar estimated that the width was almost 3 miles, which meant that the Wa could hug the far slope and avoid the array of artillery to swing around behind his position. However, the Wa couldn't simply march down the middle of the pass either, because of a river and a mass of swampy ground that extended from the banks on either side for perhaps almost a mile. "I want a fortified redoubt of at least 5 Cohorts' strength over on that far slope," Caesar pointed across the floor of the pass, "and I want it by the end of the day." "Caesar, do we have any idea how deep that river is? Or how soft the ground is? I can tell from here that it's swamp, but have any of our scouts surveyed the ground?" Pollio asked. "Yes," Caesar replied, not perturbed in the slightest to be questioned. "They say that it will support men, but only if they're spread out, and the river is shallow, with a rocky bottom." "So how are they going to get any artillery across?" this came from Hirtius. "They're going to carry the scorpions, and that's all, but I'm going to give them a Legion's worth of scorpions, and extra ammunition. All we want to do is to keep them from going on the far side of the river. With the muck down there, they're likely to keep close to the slope, but only if we have someone on the other side making sure that they don't go on the other side of the river."His orders given, Caesar turned away to resume his inspection of the rest of the position.
The 5 Cohorts were on the move less than a watch later, accompanied by a cavalry escort, and as they discovered, the ground they had to cross to get to the far ridge was very soggy, the horses plunged almost to their stomachs in the worst spots, while the men went knee deep. They arrived at the far slope filthy and tired, but they were men hardened from years of such toil, and they knew the stakes for which they were playing, so they paused just long enough to catch their breath before they began work. Siting the position as low on the slope as was practical, the Centurion in charge, Vibius Pacuvius, from the 15th Legion and one of Caesar's Gallic veterans, knew that the farther down the slope he put his camp, the greater the reach of the scorpions. Even so, he detached a Century of men to go down onto the floor of the pass, as close to the edge of the mire as possible to serve as a forward post, their orders to buy as much time as possible if the Wa tried to dislodge the main body. What not just the Centurion on the far slope, but Caesar and by extension the rest of his army was counting on was that the Wa commander would be unwilling to turn his attention to the smaller force because it would expose his rear to the 10th, who had roughly half of the cavalry, plus a force of auxiliaries to complement them.
But the only way they would know was when the Wa army actually began its move. It was two days short of 2 weeks after the fortified line was begun that a group of scouts came galloping across the floor of the plain, trailing dust that hung in the still air, pointing like an arrow back to the northwest from where they had come. Balbus had the duty, and he sent a man to fetch his Primus Pilus, who arrived in time to see the scouts begin laboring up the slope of the ridge, following what had become a well-worn path up to the position 3 miles to the south of the 10th's camp, where Caesar had located his headquarters. "They look like Cerberus was after them," Pulllus commented to his friend, who grunted in agreement. "Probably means those slant-eyed barbarians are on the move," was Balbus' only comment, as Pullus turned away to go back to his tent and don his armor. Because of the distance, Caesar had decreed that his senior Centurions had to ride, at a quick trot, whenever they were summoned to the praetorium, something that Pullus hated to do. His size and weight meant he always had to have a large horse, but all that was available for him was one of the island ponies, meaning his feet were bare inches off the ground, making him feel ridiculous. Fortunately for everyone, the men knew better than to laugh at the sight, but it still didn't help his frame of mind. He was on his pony and already a mile down the road that ran along the top of the ridge, made as smooth and level as possible, to Caesar's exacting standards, when he met the mounted courier galloping his direction.Seeing the large Primus Pilus, the courier curbed his horse, spraying dirt and rocks in all directions, and in his excitement forgot to render his salute. Pullus was about to reprimand him but before he could speak, the courier shouted to him, voice straining with excitement, "Caesar summons you immediately Primus Pilus. The Wa are marching and are expected to be here by nightfall!"
All posts by R.W. Peake on blog.rwpeake.com are copyrighted by the author, 2012.
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