All in all, it was a good plan, but it was doomed to fail because Caesar, as always, was thinking one step ahead of them. The Belgae hostages who escaped to warn the Nervii were right; under normal conditions Caesar marched with the Legion baggage train immediately following it, except Caesar did not consider these to be normal conditions. With an enemy known to be lurking less than a half-day’s march away, Caesar gave orders that we would march in the manner that we did when contact with the enemy was expected, with all the army’s baggage train congregated into one group, which was trailed by the new Legions, the 13th and 14th. When the army finally came into view, masked as we were by a thick stand of trees, the Nervii were confronted by the sight of the Legions, with the 9th in the lead this day and ourselves immediately behind, following each other in close order without any baggage train in between. Our march was delayed by a series of thick hedges, which we were told had been planted by the Nervii as a method of deterring just the type of advance that we were making, and I must say they did an admirable job of it. Being the lead Legion, the boys in the 9th were the ones who had to either find a way around the hedges, or cut through them, making for a considerable amount of work. Most of the time their commander ordered the 9th to cut through them; Roman armies are not much for going around an obstacle. We would much rather just march right through it and will spend the time necessary making the terrain bend to our will so that we can do just that. Once past the hedges, we marched up to the site that the pioneers had selected for the day’s camp, a small hill with a gentle slope down to the river, the camp site being on the north side. The river Sabis is a river in name only, not being much more than three feet deep in that area, and we knew that it would not provide much of an obstacle to the Nervii, whose sentries and pickets we could see watching us from across the river. Being the second to arrive, we received orders to begin building the camp immediately while Caesar sent the cavalry, who had been screening our advance, across the river to chase the pickets away. On the opposite side of the river was another hill, with a forest roughly bisecting it running east and west just at the crest, and as our horsemen went charging up the slope it was into this forest that the pickets fled. Every one of us would have been content to stand or sit watching our cavalry charging into the line of trees, then be repulsed before trying over and over again, but we had a job to do so we grounded our packs to begin the routine of building a camp. While we worked, the other Legions began arriving; we were followed by the 11th, with the 8th behind them, the 12th, and then the 7th. The baggage train was still some way off, moving more slowly as usual and guarded by the new Legions who marched behind it. It was perhaps third of a watch after we arrived that the baggage train came plodding into view, and it was this sight that triggered the Nervii attack.
They came swarming out of the forest across the river, sweeping aside our cavalry screen as if it were not there, thousands upon thousands of them running down the slope and across the river, almost before we knew what had happened. From the moment that they burst out of the woods until they hit our lines was less time than it takes a man to run a fast mile, and when an army as large as ours is caught unprepared like we were, it is no simple matter to array for battle. Suddenly the air was split by the sounds of bucina and cornu, accompanied by the bellowing of the Centurions who ordered us to drop our implements and form a battle line as quickly as we could. The scene was utter chaos, with Legionaries madly scrambling back to their packs to pick up their shields and helmet, grounded with the rest of our marching gear. The standards were quickly grabbed from wherever they were planted in the ground as we worked, forming a rough line parallel to the river. Looking across the river at the onrushing horde, it was clear that we could either form up in our proper Centuries and Cohorts, or we could go grab our gear, but we could not do both. Immediately realizing the gravity of the situation, and knowing that we were in for the fight of our lives, most if not all of us chose to get our gear and hastily don our helmet, although none of us had time to take the cover off of our shields, before looking for the nearest standard. Seeing the standard for the Third Century of the Fourth Cohort nearby, Vibius and I ran to form up the best we could. There was a mess of confusion as each of us instinctively looked for the spot where we normally lined up, yet we were just as likely to find it occupied by a man who had the same spot, but in a different Century. Consequently I found myself with Vibius by my side on the front rank, giving us a grand view of the Nervii horde pounding up the riverbank at us, water streaming from their clothes as they waved their weapons in the air, their war cries filling the air to envelope us with sound.
We could feel the ground shaking beneath our feet as they drew closer and there was just enough time for Vibius to say, “We are truly fucked,” before the first ranks slammed into us.
We did not even try to throw our javelins, not only because there was not enough time, but most of us forgot to grab them, instead instantly resorting to the sword, much the same as when we faced the Germans. A man a little older than me, with a full red beard and his hair sticking up in some sort of wild pattern came hurtling at me, his long spear thrusting at my throat. Drawing my shield up to block the thrust before answering it with my own, I delivered my blow under the rim of my shield, the blade angling upwards to drive into his groin. He let out a horrific screech and fell to the ground, but the man behind him did not even break stride as he hurtled the body to slam into me. My shield was driven back into my chest, almost knocking the breath from me as I felt my heels sliding and I waited for the supporting hand grabbing my harness, but none came. Cursing, I strained to push my shield out away from my body, back to the proper position, except the man was now aided by the weight of the other Nervii who had come crashing into him, so I stood there pinned, with no room to use my sword. The stalemate lasted for a few heartbeats before, in an act of desperation, I lowered my shield just a bit while whipping my head forward, driving the rim of my helmet into the man’s face. Instantly my head exploded in pain, yet the effect was enough to cause him to recoil backward into his comrades, freeing me up just enough. Lashing out with my shield, I caught him with the boss square in the chest, hearing the breath escape him in a whooshing sound as I whipped my blade over the top edge of the shield this time, the point catching him at the base of his throat. I obviously hit an artery, because I was showered with a spray of bright red blood, and he staggered back, falling against the man behind him, who in turn was covered by the dying man’s blood, his heart pumping jets of the sticky fluid into the second Nervii’s eyes, causing him to shut them in reflex, giving me the opportunity to take advantage of his temporary blindness. Taking a step forward and regaining the ground that I had lost, I killed the second man with a quick thrust to the chest while he was still struggling to wipe the blood from his eyes. With three kills in perhaps the first thirty normal heartbeats, all around me the fighting was going at the same furious pace. Out of the corner of my eye I saw Vibius ducking a wild swing of a Nervii sword before coming up from his crouch with a powerful blow from his shield that smashed his opponent in the elbow of his sword hand, causing him to drop it, whereupon Vibius instantly dispatched him with a sweeping move of his blade that opened the man’s throat. Meanwhile, I heard frantic shouting all around me as Centurions barked out commands, trying desperately to plug holes where there were still gaps, or strengthen lines that were still only one or two men deep. Very quickly I realized that this was the case with us; the reason nobody grabbed my harness was because there was nobody there, yet I could not dare look back to see if any help had come. The Signifer we formed up with was using the staff of his standard as a weapon, swinging it in short, sharp blows, finishing each opponent off with the spiked end. A couple of men came to stand around him, and I could see others running to our formation, but we were still horribly disorganized, except that was all the time I could give to the overall situation as more Nervii came roaring at us. Once again one came slamming into me, and I felt my upper body twisting backwards under the pressure as I grit my teeth, forcing myself to stand back upright to hammer at my foe’s face with the pommel of my sword. He had no shield and was using his free hand to try blocking my blows, while with the spear in his other hand, he kept jabbing at me in short, vicious thrusts aimed at my gut. On one of his thrusts, the blade of his spear punctured my shield, and I felt the point bury itself in my left forearm. Despite myself, I let out a cry of pain, while I wrenched the spear out of his hands by jerking my shield down and away from him, ignoring the fact that doing so hurt my arm even more. In an instant, he was disarmed, and I stepped to my left to give him a backhand slash that caught him across the face. Now it was his turn to scream as his hands flew to his face, giving me all the opening I needed to drive my sword deep into his gut, feeling a savage satisfaction.