Marching With Caesar: Conquest of Gaul (69 page)

Leaving the shores of Britannia in the same way we left to get there, we finally shoved off at midnight, heading back to land at the same place where we embarked. Our trip was uneventful, except for the heaving of our stomachs, the prospect of which we simply accepted with resignation as the cost for getting back to Gaul, and we were happy enough when about mid-morning, land was sighted. There before us was the thin green strip that we had expected to see when we first saw Britannia, and as we approached, we began talking about what we hoped to do when were finally safe on dry land. Since the end of campaign season was almost on us; it was now the second week in September, and we would be marching to winter quarters soon, not surprisingly much of the talk and the inevitable wagering centered on where we would be quartered. Nobody thought that we would be staying this far west, in the event there was trouble farther east, but there was much speculation about how far north or how far south. Also, going into our fourth winter, we had developed favorite spots where we wintered before, along with not so favorite spots to which we held no desire to go back. This was how we passed the remaining time before entering the harbor, the men from the other Legions lining the hill of the camp to watch us disembark. Men looked for friends they had made, or sometimes even relatives, in the faces of the 7th and 10th as we went marching past, sharing jokes and insults with us. Unfortunately, I could see the faces of some of the men who did not find who they were looking for, and I knew that there would be mourning around some of the fires in the camp that night.

Not all of us arrived at the same harbor. Two ships, with about 300 men from the 10th, landed further south in Morini territory and the natives got carried away with the idea of attacking the Legionaries and taking their weapons. Luckily for our men they were immediately missed, scouts were sent out looking for them and one of the mounted men saw the Legionaries formed in a square, surrounded by a few thousand men. Galloping back, the camp was alerted, with all of our available cavalry mounted and out of the gate in moments, racing to the rescue of the stranded men. Because we had just arrived and were still in full uniform, we were ordered to follow behind, and since these were men of the 10th we needed no urging, moving at double time down the road behind the cavalry. By the time we arrived at the scene, the cavalry had already driven the Morini off, the Gauls fleeing so hastily that some of them actually dropped their weapons, leaving them scattered on the ground around the Legionaries. Marching back to camp, reunited with our missing men, we arrived only to find out the moment we entered camp that we were going to be leaving the next morning to punish the Morini for their transgression. This order was met by curses and groans, the feeling being that we had done enough, there being other Legions in camp who had been doing nothing all season. Nevertheless, we marched out the next morning as ordered, the 7th also being selected, commanded by Labienus. Marching south, the gods smiled on us in one sense; there had been a drought in that area and the marshes, which the Morini used as refuge before, were now dried up, so we did not have to march in knee deep, slimy muck. It also meant that the Morini had nowhere to hide, and after one very minor skirmish where we lost nobody and they lost a few dozen, they submitted. Again.

Chapter 9- Second Invasion of Britain

Despite our campaigning being done, any hopes we held for a soft winter were quickly shattered. Caesar did not leave us at his normal time, staying with us until mid-November, once we were distributed in our winter camps, the locations of which were another source of complaining. None of us got our wish to be further south; instead, the Legions were distributed throughout Belgae territory, the feeling being, correct as it turned out, that they were still not completely pacified. This winter, however, was not going to be one of our usual routine, because Caesar had plans, ambitious ones at that. He ordered a fleet built, numbering more than 600 ships, requiring each of our camps to be on a river and relatively close to the sea, at a point where the river was wide and deep enough to float the finished ships down. Our particular camp was on the Sequana River, a few miles inland, in the territory of the Veliocasses, who lived on a narrow strip of land inland along the river for several miles. For this project, we all worked as shipbuilders, with Gauls skilled in these matters being brought in to teach us what we needed to do, although they directed the work. I will say that, despite moaning and complaining about performing this kind of labor, it did make the time pass by more quickly, and I for one enjoyed the physical exertion. The ships we built were different than the ones that took us to Britannia and were of Caesar’s design; having seen the difficulties we experienced in going over the side, he ordered that our new fleet be constructed with much lower gunwales to enable easier unloading. They were also wider, with flatter bottoms that enabled them to get closer to shore, improvements we all appreciated, and which I pointed out to Vibius as an example that Caesar truly cared for our well-being, to which he said nothing. When Caesar left us, he went once again to Illyricum, this time because there was trouble brewing. Also leaving the army was young Publius Crassus, not only one of the most liked of the Tribunes and Legates, but also one of the most respected, a rare feat. Labienus we respected yet did not particularly like because of his sour disposition and the fact that he could be excessively harsh in his discipline, but he could fight, and for that we at least respected him. When we heard of young Crassus’ death at Carrhae, from all accounts due to his own father’s incompetence and arrogance, there was true sorrow in the army.

Januarius of the year of the Consulship of Lucius Domitius Ahenobarbus and Appius Claudius Pulcher, 456 years after the founding of the Republic marked the beginning of our fifth year in Gaul. I was turning 24 that year, 25 as far as the army was concerned, and I was still happy that I had joined the Legions. Vibius I was not so sure about; he loved being a Legionary as much as I did, but oh, how he pined for Juno. These years apart had not changed their love for each other as far as I could tell; they still wrote each other constantly, and I believe that it was only this enforced separation that marred Vibius’ time in the army. He never let it interfere with his duties, yet there were times at night around the fire that I would glance at him to see him staring at but not seeing the flames, with a melancholy look on his face. Whenever I saw him like this I did my best to cheer him up, although I do not know whether I was any help or not. As for the rest of my friends, much was the same as before. We had adjusted to the death of Romulus, but we never forgot him, and many a night one of his antics was a topic of discussion around the fire, all of us laughing as hard as if it had happened yesterday. The change in Didius turned out to be temporary; soon enough he was back to his games and his surliness. His presence and attitude became something like a spot on your boots that rubs you wrong that never goes away no matter how hard you try to remove it, until you give up and a callous develops that keeps from rubbing you raw. Having grown accustomed to his ways, while we did not like them we accepted them, mainly because we had no choice. For his part, he learned how far he could push the rest of us and did not cross that line, at least not very often. Atilius’ flogging had scared him straight, if only for a time, although I will say that he was much slyer about his forays out of the camp, and they did happen less often. Vellusius remained unchanged, although he did laugh less than before, something I attributed more to the absence of Romulus than I did to any change in him. Scribonius was, next to Vibius, my closest friend, partly because of our proximity to each other in formations and on marches. Also, I respected his intelligence and his way of thinking things through before weighing in on a subject. Calienus we did not see as much of as we had when he was in our tent, partly due to his duties, but mostly due to Gisela, with whom he spent every possible moment and for which none of us blamed him. He trusted her well enough, but he had no trust in his fellow soldiers, quite rightly I might add. We may kill for each other, and we may die for each other, but I quickly saw that on the subject of women, there were no rules of conduct. If a man wanted a woman and she belonged to another Legionary, the only consideration was whether or not one could defeat the spurned lover in a fight of some sort. Only in the case of very close friends, and sometimes not even then, did the bonds of friendship matter at all. Another happy consequence of doing the work that we did building ships meant that we had less time to get in trouble, with that winter seeing fewer trips to the forum to witness punishments than any other year before this.

Caesar sorted things out in Illyricum then headed back to the army, arriving in late spring, a bit later than usual for him because of the troubles in his other province. Working feverishly to finish work on the new fleet, this was followed by the preparations always necessary at the start of campaign season. The men of the army were heartened to hear that this time, we were going to do things in a manner that we in the ranks considered the proper way; we were bringing all of our heavy gear, along with a force of 2,000 cavalry. With the fleet finished, we took our first boat ride of the season, this time down the Sequana to the mouth of the river then the short distance up the coast to Portus Itius, designated as the place from which the fleet would sail. Perhaps we were getting used to it, or perhaps it was just because we were on the river, then in sight of the coast the whole way, but the seasickness was much less widespread this time. Arriving at the camp erected by the other Legions who spent their winter at Portus Itius building their part of the fleet, we all settled in to wait for Caesar. He arrived, but was in camp no more than a day or two when word of trouble with the Treveri was reported to him. After assessing the situation, Caesar deemed that it was too dangerous to leave until after we returned from Britannia, so taking his most veteran Legions, the 7th through the 10th, we found ourselves once again marching to the east. The Treveri chief was named Indutiomarus, and apparently he had been loudly claiming that he pissed on Rome and owed no allegiance to us. The march took almost two weeks, long enough to make us angry that once more we were forced to deal with recalcitrant Gauls. It was a funny thing; when we thought of Gauls as a race, we hated them with a passion because of what we considered to be their treachery and deceitful ways. Yet when we dealt with them individually, it was hard to find a Gaul that we did not like. They are a strange race, and even now after three decades under Roman rule and having lived among them all this time, I still do not feel that I truly know or understand them. In some things I would trust them with my life, while in others I would not be shocked if they tried to cut my throat. That spring, we found ourselves marching once again because of some faithless petty chief who thought he alone could withstand the might of Rome. There was one happy note; for the first time we did not suffer through the first true marching of the spring, the work we did on the ships keeping us more fit than we would have thought possible. Consequently, we retired each night without the aches, soreness and total fatigue that was always present in the past, and this marked something of a turning point, because we no longer complained as loudly when we were ordered to perform exertions during the winter.

Our confrontation with the Treveri was anticlimactic to say the least. Approaching their main town, just the sight of us in battle array was enough to send Indutiomarus scurrying out to claim that Caesar must have heard wrong, he made no such claims. To be sure of his good faith, Caesar took an unusually large number of hostages, including the son of Indutiomarus, whereupon we immediately turned around to march back to the coast. We were not happy, but neither were we surprised at this point, having learned that Gauls are capable of any type of behavior. Making a few stops on the way back, Caesar took the opportunity to adjudicate local disputes and give the locals a glimpse of the Roman army as a reminder of who had defeated them once, and would do so again if need be. Whenever he met a local delegation, he made sure that we were there in the forum in formation, requiring the Gauls to pass between our silent ranks and it was clear to all of us that they were intimidated, exactly the effect for which Caesar hoped.

Getting back to the main camp, we began our final preparations to sail to the island. Caesar selected five of the eight Legions to sail with him; of course we were selected, yet we were a bit surprised when we heard that Labienus, who had almost always been our commander on detached operations, was going to be left behind to baby-sit the 11th, 13th and 14th. I have always wondered if this was the real reason that in the difficulties that ensued years later, Labienus chose to turn on his old general. We were also a bit surprised by the inclusion of the 12th, for the reasons I have previously mentioned, and we speculated that Caesar was giving them one last chance to redeem themselves. Also sailing with us was a large number of Gallic chieftains and their personal escorts. It was Caesar’s way of keeping an eye on them, especially since he had already seen more than sufficient evidence to convince him that if he left these rascals behind, they would in all likelihood make a good deal of trouble for him. Included in this group was one Dumnorix, one of the more powerful chiefs of the Aedui, even having coins with his name and likeness struck to act as the currency of his people. He was reputed to be the leader of the anti-Roman faction of the Aedui, who as a tribe still bore the title of Friend and Ally of Rome, so of all the chieftains, Dumnorix was the one whom Caesar wanted to keep an eye on most. Once the chiefs were summoned and arrived at Portus Itius, all was ready to depart. Then we sat to wait for a more favorable wind.