Life of a Roman: An AAR

[johnhughthom]

Bloody Gauls. What is the point in their existence? Are they a joke of the Gods? At least the Greeks have "culture" and the Carthaginians bring wealth wherever they go, all these barbarians bring is devastation and cruelty. I have spent most of the past three years sitting outside cities belonging to these creatures, it's cold, wet and miserable. By the Gods how I want to kill them all.

Right now I'm sitting outside the city of Segesta, a pathetic hovel. We need to take it however to show the Gauls in this region who's boss. Apparently these people aren't actually Gauls, they are dirty, smelly and have long hair so if they aren't Gauls they are the next worst next thing. The rumour around camp is we will go to battle in the autumn, thats six months away and we've already been here nine. We are already here longer than we were at Bononia, I guess these people actually have the intelligence to store food, perhaps they are a step above Gauls after all.

The march to Bononia was long and hard. We left Rhegium and travelled up through Campania, then Latium, finally through Etruria into Gaul. It was hard travelling through Latium, wanting to go home. I have no home though, so I had no choice. Some men did desert, and an unlucky few were captured. They were crucified and the entire legion was made to watch. We had to stand for an hour and listen to them beg for mercy before we were allowed to return to camp, a few stayed behind to taunt them before retiring for the night. We left the next morning and the deserters were very much alive, we marched for hours before their screams were too far in the distance to be heard. Life in the legion can be hard, but I doubt any man who saw or heard that will contemplate desertion any time soon.


When we reached Bononia a few of us looked at each other in surprise. It was a dump, and I feel I'm insulting the camp latrine to call it that. A few huts huddled together behind a pathetic palisade. The local leader had gathered his warband in there and we needed to eliminate him to pacify the region. Well, thats what the rumour around the camp was, we certainly weren't told why we did anything just what and when to do it.

We were set to work knocking down trees and bringing them back to build a wall around the settlement so nobody could get in or out. For three months, sixteen hours a day we did this before it was finished, then we waited. For six months we waited. Then they came out, tired, starving, pathetic, outnumbered. The fearsome Gauls came out to attack us.





We were better armed, better fed, better trained, better led and more numerous. Cnaevs Cornelius Blasio, who had been legate at Tarentum and Rhegium, led our army. He was not a consul, but led with pro-praetor authority. I was told he gave up the chance to go to Rome to run for Consul that year in order to lead the attack on Bononia.





The Gallic leader was a waste of his fathers spunk called Cadwalador, or some similar mouthful. He led his army out fearfully and didn't join the fight himself until near the end. He didn't last long when he did arrive, cut down by an equestrian.

As for me, my unit was in front of the regular skirmishers. We pelted the enemy until they got too close then legged it behind the lines.

The Gauls ran away when the heavy infantry moved forward so we returned to the front and pelted some more. Then the naked men arrived, we moved back again and the Samnites engaged the nudists. The Hastati managed top punch a whole right in the middle of the Gallic line and flanked the naked guys while the Principes marched straight on and attacked the Gallic skirmishers who had held back. The Gallic leader then arrived but was instantly flanked by Blasio and the tribune Cotta and cut down. This sent the whole Gallic army to flight and they were cut down. Most of the army didn't even bother going into the town as we could see there was nothing to loot and all the food had been eaten during the seige.



One of those executed for desertion had been our "signifer" although he didn't really hold that title we just called him that for want of a better word. He was simply a Roman citizen who was in charge of the irregulars and was supposed to sort out our pay. Of course nobody cared what he did with the money and if we complained we would be ignored, if we were unlucky we would be beaten. Since his death we had been left to our own devices and simply followed the army and did what we were told when we were told. During the battle I had taken charge, it hadn't been a concious decision it just kind of happened. I told the unit to move forward, they did. I told them to retreat, they did. We managed to kill quite a few Gauls and all of us came through the battle unscathed, which was something of a minor miracle.

My efforts had been noticed, and tribune Cotta came to our resting spot the next day. Wrinkling his nose at the stench from the nearby latrine he pointed at me and called me over. "What's your story?" he asked me. So I told him of my father and my loss of status and why I had joined the legion. "For some reason I actually believe you, but it doesn't matter if it's true or not you impressed me today. You are now in charge of this unit, speak to one of the legates clerks, they will tell you your responsibilities." Without another word he marched off leaving me standing alone, with my bare feet in a puddle of urine.