Life of a Roman: An AAR

[johnhughthom]

I am two years older, though I feel I have aged ten. I am taller, stronger, fitter, healthier. I am still just as poor. I am a man though, and I am a Roman. Two years have seen me take part in two epic battles, first against the Greeks in Tarentum, then the rebels in Rhegium. The man who recruited me to the legion told me I wouldn't last a year, I have lived through two and quitting now would leave me no better off than if I had remained in Rome. I may as well stay, and if I'm honest, killing is it's own reward sometimes.

At least the recruiter was honest. I have been fed, muck not fit for dogs but I was still fed. I have slept under a tent, one that I stole from a house in Tarentum and had confiscated by a Principe halfway through my first night under it. I haven't been paid though, the recruiter didn't guarantee that so I can't hold it against him.

Anyway I guess anybody reading this cares little for my life, what you want is stories about killing Greeks, what I saw when we captured the rebels in Rhegium. Well, I have little to say about that. In Tarentum we threw our stones over a wall and didn't even see if we hit anybody. The real soldiers then took to the city and the killing began in earnest. I didn't see it, but I smelt it and I heard it. Two days after the battle I snuck into the city, we weren't allowed out of the camp, and saw the aftermath. Bodies piled up like bricks in a wall, men picking through the corpses for money, jewellery, whatever. The locals crept threw the city if they had essential work, if not they cowered at home.

Rhegium was little different, although this time we were allowed into the city afterwards. We stayed for a few hours then went back to camp. None of us had any money so what was the point of watching the other soldiers visit the alehouses and brothels?

What of the leaders of the Legions? The consuls, tribunes, centurions? How the hell would I know, I keep out of their way. My last meeting with a centurion ended with me cleaning horse crap off his boots with my tunic, I was lucky he was in a good mood or it could have been my tongue. Perhaps you are thinking that the men in charge aren't as bad as the recruiter made out? No the only reason we are still alive is we are beneath notice, we have been forgotten about as we are almost useless in a seige. I have yet to experience a field battle and who knows if I will live to write about it if I do...