The Will of the Senate - Battle reports

[econ21]

Winter, 267

595 men

The arrival of Pleminius has raised my spirits, although this is more because of the small reinforcement it provides than the conviviality of the fellow. He is an austere chap, not given to small talk. His pithy pronouncements of personal duty and honour are admirable, I suppose, but at my age, I find them hard to take. Does he not realise his job is not to die for his country, but rather to make the other fellows die for theirs? Still the man's sword arm is just as steely as his speech, so I welcome his presence. I have assigned my previous Military Tribune to Pleminius, so that the two can be accustomed to working together in the event that my heart should fail again. Overtime, I may assign more of my ancillaries to him, if he does not object, but for now, I need them under my control.

The Greeks came again. A tall red-cloaked Captain Diadumenus approached under a flag of truce. "I have come for the body of Theras" he solemnly declared, much in the manner of young Pleminius. Indeed, I saw Pleminius scrutinising the Spartan with scarcely concealed admiration. Of course, I gave the Captain Theras's coffin and told him his Prince had died well. The Captain thanked me but then said he could not leave until we have surrendered Apollonia. I shook my head, telling him to go back to his men and that the next time we met, one of us would fall.

Again I had no intention of letting an inferior force blockade us inside the town, so I marched the army out at night. The Captain pulled back his hoplites from the gate and at first, I thought he was going to exit the field without giving battle. A foolish thought. That is not the Spartan way.

Gingerly, I spread our men out into a U-shaped formation, hoping to work our skirmishers and cavalry around the flanks of the enemy hoplites.



As the Romans seek to envelope the Greeks, the hoplites advance in the centre.

I ordered our funditores to target the Spartans but they made little impression. Before the battle was half over, our slingers were out of lead and only two of the Spartans had been shot down. I knew the Spartan hoplites were our most dangerous foes and so ordered our own triarii to charge them. The two elite formations remained locked in combat for most of the battle.



The Spartans and the triarii face off together

By good fortune, we managed to surround and break one enemy phalanx on the right, so I ordered young Pleminus to hunt down the routers. The headstrong tribune pursued too impetuously and ran into another phalanx moving in support. He fought bravely, before my messenger reached him ordering him to pull out at once. If I should fall, whether in battle or due to infirmity, it is essential that Pleminius survive to take command.



Pleminius's pursuit of the routers nearly ends in disaster.

The critical phase of the battle was now reached. Our heavy infantry sought to encircle and defeat the phalanxes, while our skirmishers targeted the lightly armoured Spartans - although it must be said, not with any visibly greater success than the funditores had enjoyed.



The height of the battle. The Roman cavalry is kept out of the action until all the hoplites are committed.

When the time was right I signalled to Pleminius to charge the rear of one of the enemy phalanxes, while my escort brought up the rear in support. The shock of the charge was decisive, breaking the enemy's morale and causing a chain rout. Most of the Spartans already lay dead at the feet of the triarii but half a dozen fled. The lances of Pleminius's escort spared these individuals the indignity of returning to their city in disgrace.



This time, Pleminius's charge is unstoppable and decides the outcome of the battle.

After the battle, a shadowy figure approached me with a message from the First Consul. The enigmatic chap said that he had been assigned to watch over me and would accompany me with my escort from now on. I think I recall his thick rasping voice from my accident in the gardens. Somehow this heroic saviour makes me fear more for my life than the Greeks or my bad heart. But the news the agent brought from Verginius was most important.

Season 3.

573 men

[econ21]

Summer, 266

576 men

"Now it is time"

I awoke to the sound of a rasping voice whispered into my ear. Waking gradually, I looked around the room, but could see no one. Slowly, I rose.

A veteran centurion entered my quarters: "The enemy are deployed for battle, sir."

I nodded curtly. I found it hard to raise my eyes and my chest had an empty hollow sensation, more to do with the circumstances in which we found ourselves than my own frail constitution.

Seventeen hundred Greeks had arrived outside Apollonia. Seventeen hundred. Mainly hoplites and frankly quite superior to the still rather inexperienced men of Legio IV. They were commanded by a general called Kallinos of Gonni. I knew little of him, but the way he had deployed for the assault revealed him to be a fine general, easily my match. Five battering rams had been constructed and positioned at different points along the north wall. Each were backed by several other units of heavy infantry or missile troops. The general himself remained at the rear of his army, with his escort and two small troops of cavalry. While we could perhaps obstruct one or two rams, there were simply not enough of us to stop all five from breaching our walls.

Somewhere inside me I knew this was Verginius's work. Exactly how he had done it, what toils or tribulations he had gone through to pull it off, I did not know. But somehow his agents had conspired to move the Greeks to muster this large, fine army and march promptly for Apollonia. How else to explain the switch in Greek tactics from sending small armies to besiege us, to concentrating such a large force to crush us?

Why had the First Consul done this? Was it to punish me for staying his hand from eradicating the Gauls he hated so much? Or was it his revenge for my besmirching his honour in the Senate? Was it to provide a demonstration of the folly of Pleminius's motion to send a small army into the heart of the enemy's lands? Or to laugh at my own foolishness in mistakenly voting for the motion? Or was it to provide a high drama for the Senate, so that Verginius could come charging in at the end of his period in office and rescue our beleaguered force with the Consular Army? I do not know. Could you ever know with a man such as Verginius?

Pleminius came to see me as Legio IV took up position. I smiled sadly at him, but he just stared back, his face nonchalant and fixed with a sense of duty. While I wished to be anywhere but here today, this - the chance of glorious battle - was why Pleminius came to Apollonia. I patted him affectionately on his shoulder, as a master might reward an alert and eager guard dog. Then I explained my plan of battle.

Our only advantage over the Greeks lay in our cavalry - the men of my escort and Pleminus's own bodyguard of equites. Sadly, this force would be next to useless in the narrow confines of Apollonia's streets. We could not charge and the massed hoplites would cut us down easily with their spears. Therefore, we had to sally out of the city even as the enemy marched their battering rams towards us. But Kallinos was no fool, he would not halt his assault to fight outside the town. While we might distract some of his men from assailing the town's pallisades, others would still batter their way through. There were four entrances to the town's central forum. I could only afford to post guards on two - the triarii were assigned to guard the north entrance; while the Italian spearmen covered the east, where the enemy battering rams were disporportionately deployed. All the other infantry were to join the cavalry in sallying out of the town gate.

Pleminius nodded eagerly when he heard the plan. Clearly its boldness appealed to him.

"Who do we charge first?" he asked.

"We begin the battle with decapitation. My men will make for Kallinos. You will cover my back in case his other cavalry try to interfere."

A faint trace of a smile passed over Pleminius's pursed lips. Apparently this brutal opening gambit appealed to him even more than the idea of a sally had.



The battlelines are drawn: as the Greeks prepare five assault columns, the Romans prepare to charge out of the north gate, with their spearmen left behind to guard the central forum.

As the five Greek battering rams began shambling forward towards Apollonia's pallisades, I led our men out of the north gate, all moving at the run. We had little time to deploy outside the walls before the many Greek phalanxes pinned us to them. Face to face, even the best Roman infantry had little advantage over hoplites. Our only chance was to flank them. Unfortunately, that called for numerical superiority, something which would be hard - if not impossible - to achieve that day.



The first action of the day - Pleminius (on the near left) and Quintus (centre) together ride for General Kallinos, hoping to render the Greek army leaderless and demoralised.

The ride to reach Kallinos seemed like an eternity. We bypassed the many phalanxes marching towards Apollonia, and the peltasts and Cretan archers deployed behind them in support. Finally, we reached the Greek cavalry, who bravely interposed themselves between us and their general, allowing Kallinos to counter-charge with his superb hetaroi. The fighting was brutal, but the outcome inevitable. Every second we were delayed, however, left our infantry leaderless outside the north gate and left the Greek battering rams elsewhere free to smash down the pallisades without interference.



The first Greek battering ram, on the far east of the northern pallisade, breaks through.

Eventually, General Kallinos was cut down and I urged our horse to return to the north gate to assist our infantry. When we arrived, we found the sallying force had suffered such heavy casualties, it was scarcely functional. In my absence, Greek peltasts and Cretan archers had poured fire into our brave infantry as they struggled to overcome the enemy phalanxes near the gate. Pleminius and I avenged the fallen without mercy, but it was too late. Four parts of the pallisade had been breached and at least eight enemy phalanxes were inside, racing to the central forum.



The Roman cavalry return to allow the Romans to triumph near the north gate. But it has become irrelevant: the walls have been breached in force to the east.

It was now up the spearmen to hold; to hold against quite insurmountable odds. They fought magnificently. I ordered Pleminius to take his escort and the cohort of Italian swordsmen and hunt down any routing Greeks. I hurried the remnants of our sallying force back to the forum. A phalanx of pikemen attempted to intercept us but it fell out of formation as it tried to catch my escort while my infantry harried it from the rear. When it finally turned to face our infantry, it was so disordered, the Greeks had thrown down their sarissas. I seized the moment and charged it in the rear, breaking it within seconds. If only the hoplites with their shorter spears could be so easily disposed of, I thought ruefully.

Our sallying force was now safely back within the pallisade. But the battle had shifted to the central forum and we had to get there quickly. The northern approach was blocked by at least four Greek phalanxes, so I directed only our funditores to take that path. They could fire into the rear of the massed Greeks and perhaps even induce some of them to break off and pursue the skirmishers.

"What do we do when our lead runs out, sir?" the small funditore captain asked me.

I could only shake my head sadly. The captain saluted and turned to lead his men, already at half strength.

Three phalanxes were trying to force the eastern approach to the forum, blocked by our Italian spearmen. So I directed our sallying force to take that path and try to hit the Greeks in the back.

But it was too late. Unobserved by us, one Greek phalanx had taken the western approach to the forum. This allowed it to bypass the spearmen guarding the north and eastern entrances. It occupied the town centre unopposed, before charging the Italian spearmen guarding the eastern approach in the rear. Our Italian allies died bravely, the last spearmen seeming to fight off hundreds of attackers for minutes before he too fell.

When I arrived at the east of the forum, we were faced with four phalanxes of hoplites, while another four pressed against the triarii guarding the north entrance. It was hopeless. Then I saw, racing up the west entrance, Pleminius and his horse. He had chased the Greek routers off the field and was returning to assist in contesting the forum. Taking heart from Pleminius's sudden appearance, I charged my escort into the Greek hoplites guarding the eastern approach to the forum, while Pleminius charged them from the rear.



Quintus attempts to force a way through the east entrance to the forum, while Pleminius charges the rear of the hoplites in support. The many Greek banners in the distance are the hoplites who have forced their way through the northern entrance and have pinned the brave triarii to the wall.

It was not enough. To be honest, not if every Roman horseman and every Roman general in the entire Republic had thrown themselves at the hoplites would it have been enough to break them. They were too many, too brave and too solidly packed. Only a large force of Roman infantry could have moved them from the forum and I had less than fifty such men left from the sallying force. Slowly, inexorably, Legio IV fell. Soon we were down to less than twenty infantry men in the sallying force. The same number of brave triarii were fighting at even more hopeless odds in the north approach.

Through the corner of my eye, I saw a small group of lightly armed, quick moving men dash across the forum towards us. They were the funditores I had sent to the north approach. They had run out of ammunition. As the push of the Greek hoplites had swept the triarii up against the wall, an opening had been created in the north approach and they had managed to rush past the melee. (Although one or two could not resist plunging their daggers into the backs of unfortunate hoplites whose attentions were fixed on the heroic triarii!)

The funditore captain ran towards me and called out ironically:

"You never told us what to do when we were out of ammunition, sir!"

I could have kissed the little fellow. Instead, I merely waved a proud salute in honour of his men. Then, the admirable chap led his men gamely in a charge into the rear of the hoplites massing around the east entrance, while Pleminius and I again spurred our escorts into the melee.



Surely it is all over now? The funditores join the Roman generals in a futile charge against the Greeks on the east of the forum. Out of sight, a larger body of Greeks relentlessly wears down the triarii fighting near the north entrance.

Pleminius always was too fine a man, too brave, too strong. He cut his way into the centre of the Greeks, slashing and stabbing. He was too far in. He had to get out. I shouted to him.

"Pleminius, get out of there!"

But the young man just looked at me, reared his horse in salute and then disappeared beneath a seething mass of stabbing spears.



Vibius Pleminius, a second before his death.

"No!" I moaned inwardly, "Not you! I was supposed to die here, not you! Not you! Me! Not you!"

With the young man's death, the spirit went out of me. It was over. Slowly, our infantry fell away, until there were just three triarii still pinned against the wall to the north entrance. The Italian infantry that had assisted Pleminius in chasing the routers had still not arrived at the forum. But at less than half strength, there was no way they could dislodge eight strong phalanxes of hoplites.

Only one of my escort remained beside me - a veteran centurion, who had earned distinction fighting with the hastati of the Consular Army and so had joined my escort. I turned my horse towards the Greeks at the east entrance and approached cautiously.



Quintus and a lone equite, a veteran centurion, confront the victorious Greeks

In truth, I was unafraid. I had no will to live. I looked only at the many dead and wounded around the forum, at the chirurgeons and a few brave citizens among them, tending to the fallen.

"Brave sons of Zeus!" I called out loudly to the hoplites facing me. "You have fought well today and won a deserved victory! You have killed my army, my own brave boys. Even my own Tribune, Vibius Pleminius, has fallen. Theras of Sparta is avenged. You may leave now, having restored Greek honour. March out now, as the victors, with your heads held high and I will salute you.

But know this. You are leaderless. I have slain your General. You have no cavalry. No archers or javelins. They are all dead, like my own fine infantry. I will ride out of here and you will be powerless to stop me. You know my First Consul approaches with a mighty Consular army. If you stay here, you will fall as surely as my brave warriors fell before you. And I swear this, on the body of Vibius Pleminius, if you refuse to leave, if you stay to die, your deaths will be cruel and merciless. I will personally see that everyone of you is crucified. What is worse, I will lay crosses along the road to Athens, and set every captured Greek man, woman and child upon them.

Brave Greeks, the choice is yours. Leave now, with honour, and know that we Romans will fight you as men of honour, showing you all the consideration and respect you deserve. Or stay and die as foolish trapped rats, knowing your people will forever be hunted as such by us. That is the choice I lay before you. Now, speak, what say you?"

The exhausted hoplites looked impassively at me, until one large captain stepped forward and took off his helmet. He looked at me defiantly and then spat a large dollop of phelgm into his helmet, before running forward and hurling the helmet at me. With that the rest of his men raised a loud cheer and I had to ride for my life out of the forum.

Of the rest, there is little to tell. The dutiful Italian swordsmen eventually arrived, exhausted and bewildered at the eastern entrance to the forum. The reinvigorated hoplites pursued them and cut them down with enthusiasm. Finally, a few of the swordsmen broke and ran, one even making it to the forum.



The last Roman infantryman dies bravely.

There, he came to his senses and looked around at the piles of dead and wounded, the blood and carnage. I had managed to escape my pursuers and break back into the forum, where I saw the lone red figure.

"Run!" I shouted. "Save yourself, get out! Run for the north gate!"

The path was clear, the swordsman could have made it. But he was exhausted. The horror and the futility of what he saw overcame him. He turned to face the hundreds of Greek hoplites eagerly pursuing him, raised his shield and prepared to strike.

I could not look, I turned away and headed out of the forum. Riding along a side street, I heard a rasping voice call out:

"Sir! In here, sir!"

I halted my tired horse and peered into the gloom from where I heard the voice call out from. It was Verginius's agent, the man who had saved my life in the gardens when I had suffered a heart attack.

"Sir, you will be safe in here, sir!” the man urged.

Something about his tone unnerved me. I saw a flash of steel in the darkness and thought "No!". If Verginius really had conspired to bring this Greek army crashing around my head, would he really be happy to see me crawl out of the ruins of Apollonia? It was time, the agent had said this morning. It was not my time in the garden. It was my time now, here. But Pleminius had fallen this day, not me. If I succumbed to an assassin's blade now, Pleminius's death would have been in vain. His family would never hear how bravely he had fought. Songs would never be sung in his honour. Verginius may have thought it my time now, but no, I would not die. Not now, not after so much blood. I would not die for nothing.

Just then, I heard the faint sound of a horn in the distance. Then more calls. I looked at Verginius's agent. He looked back at me and considered the veteran centurion mounted beside me, lance held at the ready. The agent sheafed his danger and smiled a toothy grin, rasping out:

"My master is here. You are saved."

The agent bowed and disappeared into the shadows.

Excitedly, I turned my horse back to the forum. The Greeks were leaving - proudly, in good order, but they were leaving. I saw the large hoplite captain still in the forum; he was picking up his helmet. He wiped it inside and then waved it at me in a casual salute.

"Remember your words, general!" he called, almost happily and then he turned to join his men.

Around the forum, as the Greeks left, the chirurgeons and compassionate townspeople rushed to aid the wounded. Prisoners were released by the magnaminous Greeks. They included many of the brave funditores, who some hoplites had preferred to capture, scorning to kill such weak fighters. The brave triarii were all dead, however. The hoplites had made sure of that, each one fatally pierced through the heart or trampled to death in the earlier scrummage. I gathered together a group of the walking wounded and waited for the Greeks to leave Apollonia before hastily attempting to repair the breaches in the pallisade.

The battle was over. By rights, the Greeks had won. But thanks to the arrival of the Consular army, we still held Apollonia and so history will accord it a close victory for us.



For me, victory or defeat was irrelevant. All that matters to me is the heroic sacrifice of our men, symbolised by the brave Pleminius, a true Roman.



Season 5

260 men

[TinCow]

Consular I Army broke camp when it became apparent that the Greeks would not engage us on our own ground. We moved south and brought battle to the strongest of their forces, including two elite hoplite units and a full group of Spartans.



Much care was needed to confront such a formidable force. I arrayed the men into an unusual formation, with the Funditores in front of a center line of Italian Spearmen and Triarii, flanked on each side by Principes, Hastati, and Italian Swordsmen, and backed by Velites.



The Fundatores were used to harass and infuriate the enemy, so that they charged, enraged, into the center of our formation.



When they closed, the Fundatores would retreat behind the spearline and the surrounding men would hurl their javelins at the oncoming Greeks. Upon realizing the trap, the hoplites would then retreat, to resume their place in the line of battle. We had infinite patience though, and the constant hammer of lead bullets on Greek skulls broke their discipline again and again. Eventually, the General himself charged. To his credit, he did not retreat as the others, though it resulted in his death on the spears of the auxilia.



When the slingers had exhaused their ammunition, the line advanced and split to engulf the foe.



The encirclement was completed quickly.



The Spartans, flanked by the elite hoplites, fought for a long time, but in the end they died like the rest. Eventually, even their will was broken and the last fled for their lives. This was not a second Thermopylae.

[TinCow]

Summary of Battles Fought Under First Consul Tiberius Coruncanius, 265-260 BC






*non-real ratios such as those resulting from a division by zero are not included.

The Battle of Antigonea Pass
Spring, 264 BC

"Hold the high ground!"

The Triarii came at a run, responding to their commander's frantic gestures. Lagging slightly behind and on either side of them, Consular I Army rushed forward as well. The men had barely arrived at the summit, the lines still ragged, when the first of the phalanxes crashed into them. Steel scraped on wood and mail and bit into flesh and bone.



Pilia, javelins and lead flew in all directions, dropping men and horse alike. The Greeks were closing quickly and in force, across the entire front. The Roman lines bent back on themselves to protect their flanks and prevent a complete envelopment. The armored hoplites outnumbered the Roman and Italian men two to one and had skills to match.

Tribune Amulius Coruncanius rode up next to his commander and long-time friend, Legate Augustus Verginius.

"I thought we were supposed to be attacking," he said dryly.

Verginius frowned and looked at the field. "It seems we need to remind the Greeks of that fact."

Having left many of the auxilia behind to garrison Antigonea, Consular I Army had moved forward to confront the last sizable Greek force in the area. Led by Philotas of Pharsalus, it was a large and formidable group of soldiers from many different nations. The bulk was, of course, Greek hoplites, but intermixed were Illyrian skirmishers, Thracian infantry, and Gallic swordsmen.



As the armies had approached each other, a high hill become the focul point of their desires.



Almost immediately, a rush began to attain the heights. The Romans had arrived first, but the Greeks had reached a great momentum and did not cease their advance. The Roman and Italian spears deployed in a long, thin line to hold the center, backed by Velites to bleed the Greeks in the rear. They had held firm since the melee had begun.

Verginius turned to Coruncanius, "Shall we remind them of the proper order of things?" He turned his horse and raised his sword. "Left wing, forward!"

At a rush, the Hastati and Italian Swordsmen, faster than any other infantry on the field, moved past the Greek right flank, scattering Illyrian skirmishers before them. After a short distance, they turned to take the phalanxes and supporting units from the rear.



"Amulius, take the cavalry and guard the right flank. The center of the Greek line is pinned on our spears. Order the Principes into their flanks and then protect them from a similar fate."

The Tribune nodded and rode off with his men.

Verginius moved to the top of the hill, where he could see over the main line to the Roman light infantry fighting in the distance. A group of Thracian infantry had stopped both cohorts of Hastati and were inflicting serious losses on them. The Italians, having finished off a small group of hoplites that had been devestated by pilia, rushed forward to aid their comrades.

Yet, even as the battle seemed to be turning in their favor, the Greeks responded. First two, then three... four... five Greek phalanxes turned from the main battle and charged into the lightly armored Romans. In an instant the flanking movement had been surrounded and they began to drop.

"Gods curse them!" shouted Verginius. He galloped forward to the lead Centurian of the Triarii. "Break them! Break them! We must aid the Hastati!"

The man grimaced, his face spattered with blood. "Sir, they won't budge. We've killed dozens of them, but they never seem to waver!"

Verginius spat on the ground. If something wasn't done soon, a third of the army would be gone and the rest would surely be surrounded. He quickly recalled Tribune Coruncanius and, with the full force of the Roman cavalry, rode to the rear Greek hoplites opposing the Roman center. They charged home with leveled spears. A shudder went through the enemy force as the impact ripped and tore at the rearmost ranks, but they held. The Romans with drew and charged a second time. A third time. On the fourth, the Greeks finally broke and scattered.

"Forward! To the Hastati!"

The strength of the Roman infantry moved at a rush, with the hardened Triarii leading the way.



Both armies convered in force on this point. The Hastati and Italians were holding, but barely. One group of the Roman light infantry was at half strength while of the other, only seven men could be seen, fighting back to back amidst a sea of Greeks. In desperation, Verginius ordered the Velites forward to extend the lines but there were still too many of them and there was no one left to commit.

No one... except the Fundatores. With their ammunition exhausted, they stood on the peak of the hill watching the carnage before them. They would not last long against armored infantry, but there was no one else...

A runner was sent to them to tell them of the dire situation and Verginius' orders. Without question they obeyed. As one, the Fundatores charged into battle... engulfing Philotas and his men, as they sat unawares observing the main melee.



The struggle was desperate, but the unarmored Fundatores were fast and their daggers sharp. They hamstrung the enemy horses and swarmed over their fallen riders, ripping off helmets and slitting throats. Philotas suvived the longest, but he too was brought down by the overwhelming mass of men.



Word spread quickly amongst the Greeks of their General's death. Many broke and ran, leaving the hardened few trapped in the center.



It was bloody work, but eventually the last of them were cut down and the field was quiet.

Verginius rode through the men, taking in the carnage. Nearly half of Consular I Army was dead or injured... but for every dead Roman, there were six fallen Greeks.

As Verginius dismounted and began to walk amongst his men, a Centurian began to shout. Soon all who could spare breath had joined in.

"Roma Victrix!"
"Roma Victrix!"
"Roma Victrix!"

As Verginius gazed out over the battlefield and his men, his mouth opened and he breathed a single line. "This is nearly as good as killing Gauls." Verginius smiled.

[TinCow]

Autumn, 264 BC



Half a league, half a league,
Half a league onward,
All in the valley of Greeks
Rode the twenty-three.
"Forward, the Praetoria!
"Charge for the flanks!" he said:
Into the valley of Greeks
Rode the twenty-three.

"Forward, the Praetoria!"
Cried the man called Oratoria.
Not tho' the soldier knew
The Legate had needed a pee:
Their's not to make reply,
Their's not to reason why,
Their's but to hold the fly:
Into the valley of Greeks
Rode the twenty-three.



Spears to right of them,
Spears to left of them,
Spears in front of them
Waver'd like trees;
Assault'd with odor and yell,
Boldly they rode and well,
Into the view of Greeks,
Into the vile smell
Rode the twenty-three.

Flash'd all their spatha bare,
Flash'd as they turn'd in air,
Slashing the hoplites there,
Charging a phalanx, while
All the Legion could see:
Plunged in the enemy-joke
Right thro' the line they broke;
Epirote and Spartan
Reel'd from the spatha stroke
Turn'd to flee.
Then they rode back, but not
Not the twenty-three.



No spears to right of them,
No spears to left of them,
No spears behind them,
Waver'd like trees;
No longer assault'd with odor and yell,
No more horse and hero fell,
They that had fought so well
Came thro' the view of Greeks
Back from the vile smell,
All that was left of them,
Left of twenty-three.

When can their die their euphoria?
O the wild charge of the Oratoria!
All the Legion could see.
Honor the charge through historia,
Honor the Praetoria,
Noble twenty-three.

[Death the destroyer of worlds]

Near Patavium, Autumn 262 BC

Finding myself leading the Legio I Italia Victrix in an attack on a Macedonian army outnumbering my men and so well suited to defense, I had to disorganize the enemy somehow.
I accordingly split my army into two halves, one led by myself, Lucius Aemilius, and the other one led by the tribune Gnaeus Hordeonius (Silver Rusher).
My half of the army tried to tempt the Macedonians into attacking me, while the other half marched through the forest to outflank the Macedonian line. My troops killed a lot of peltastai, but the Macedonians were not inclined to attack and so my men were eventually forced to attack the Macedonian phalanx line in order to pin them down. When the lines clashed and the Macedonians were committed, Gnaeus Hordeonius and his troops charged out of the forest on their flank.


Ambush force charging out of the forest

The Macedonian general countered well, ordering a countercharge of this attack with his remaining peltastai units, while the phalanx line desperately tried to reorganize to meet this new threat.
With the ambush infantry force held up it was now up to the cavalry, which I had joined by now, to take the point and charge the now undefended Macedonian flank.


Lucius Aemilius leading the charge

Just as the Macedonians were about to crack their general countercharged and restored the Macedonian's flagging courage. Now the battle was beginning to move against us, but the ambush infantry finally arrived to complete the encirclement of the Macedonians and both the captain and general of the Macedonian force were slain. The battle became very disorganized, but eventually the enemy routed and was wiped out.