Warming to the topic, I tried to light some sort of fire of enthusiasm for what was going to be a brutal amount of work, no matter what. “Boys, this is it! We have that bastard bottled up, with the bulk of his army. We finish him here, and we’re done. Nobody is left for us to fight!”
“I don’t know,” Vibius repeated doubtfully, “the way these Gauls breed, there's still a lot of 'em running around that aren’t part of that lot up on the hill.”
“Gerrae! By Dis Vibius, must you find a turd in the porridge in everything Caesar does?” I stormed. I had lost my temper, and even as I swore at myself for losing control, I continued to rage. “I’ve listened to you moan and complain about every order you’ve been given by Caesar since…..since I can remember, and by the gods I’m sick of it! I’ve put up with it because you’re my best friend since we were kids, but enough is enough!” My voice hardened into the tone I used when giving commands or officially chastising one of the men. “You forget yourself, Sergeant. Your place is not to question our commander’s orders, your place is to obey them and carry them out to the best of your ability. This is the last time I'll tolerate such a display, do you understand me?”
The shock was clear on Vibius’ face, as it was on everyone else around the fire; never before had they heard me speak to Vibius in this manner, but I had reached my limit.
“Titus, I meant no………”
“Tacete!” I surprised even myself at the volume of my voice. “And stand at intente when I’m addressing you, Sergeant!”
As shocked and angry as he may have been, discipline in the Legions runs deep, and he snapped immediately to the position, eyes locked straight ahead.
“You’re not addressing your friend Titus Pullus, you’re addressing your Optio right now, Sergeant,” my voice was a bit softer, but only by a fraction.
“Yes, Optio,” Vibius replied, and to anyone else his tone sounded perfectly correct, but I could detect the barely controlled fury. We stood there for a moment; he could not speak unless I gave him leave, and I was suddenly at a loss at what to say. Things had gotten out of hand and I knew that, except I did not know what to do. In my defense, it was not just a matter of youth. I knew that to back down in any way at this point was to undermine my authority; a leader cannot be seen to be indecisive and weak, and backing down now would cause me problems down the road. Nevertheless, I also knew that my friendship with Vibius had just suffered a tremendous blow that might not ever be repaired.
“Very well, carry on. We've got a big day tomorrow so I want everyone in the tent early tonight.”
Without saying another word, I turned and walked to the next section to pass the word, thinking that at least I would not have to deal with Vibius.
Beginning work the next morning, nine Legions worked while one Legion, the cavalry and the auxiliary troops kept a vigil on the town and camp of Vercingetorix. The camp covered the eastern slope, where they had dug their own ditch and erected a wall six feet tall, covering the distance between the two streams in the same manner as on the western side. The result was a rough rectangular shape, which we needed to completely encircle. Dirt flew as thousands of spades dug; axes rang out as the wood needed for the forts was chopped down and dressed appropriately. Within the day, we built a number of camps to spread the Legions out, with two camps on the north side, and two camps on the south side. Arranged around the western side of the town, camps were built specifically for the cavalry and the auxiliaries. The inner trench and wall was dotted with smaller forts, 23 of them, ranging in size from just large enough for a Century, with one or two artillery pieces, to a couple large enough for a Cohort, with several artillery pieces, the latter being placed in areas where Caesar deemed it more likely that there would be an attempt to break out. The camps were completed, along with perhaps half of the inner trench and wall, by the time it got dark the first day. Work continued in shifts through the next day and into the night, in the same manner as at Avaricum. The major difference is that we were not hurting for food at Alesia, and I think this along with the belief that we were in the final stages of crushing the rebellion spurred us to work at a furious pace. Our Cohort worked through the day shift, retiring to one of the camps on the southern perimeter just erected, tired and filthy. Listlessly eating our meal, too tired even for a bath, once finished the men collapsed on their cots, while I plodded to my tent, where a report on our supply situation and the daily report were waiting for me.
By the third day, about half of the forts were completed, the inner trench and wall was finished and we were beginning work on the outer wall when Vercingetorix sent his entire cavalry force out in an attempt to destroy our cavalry, his intent to cripple our ability to forage, the main job of the cavalry during a siege. The bucina sounded the call to assembly and we dropped our tools to run to where our gear was gathered, forming up in battle order as we watched the cloud of dust to our left grow in size, the sounds of the clash carrying to us. We had no real idea what was happening, only glimpsing the blurred forms of horsemen hurtling in one direction or another in random moments when the dust clouds would briefly dissipate, before a fresh spate of action dropped a curtain back down on the scene. All we knew was what we could glean from the sounds of the various horns, giving signals that were relayed from one fort to another. Despite being naturally absorbed in what was taking place to our left, we actually were assembled to keep an eye on the town and camp in the event that the Gallic infantry were ordered from their positions to support the cavalry. The battle raged for the better part of a third of a watch, then seemingly for no reason, we saw the Gauls turn about and begin whipping their mounts back towards their camp. Surging back towards their position, they finally broke clear of the dust cloud and in a few heartbeats, we could see what started the rout.
“It’s the Germans,” someone cried, and in a moment it was clear that it was indeed the Germans, their camp being on the northernmost point of the ring of cavalry camps. This distance caused them to arrive to the battle late, but the impact of their charge was enough to shatter the Gallic attack. Gauls were now galloping headlong for the single gate, and even from where we stood it was clear that there would be a massive crush at the entrance, there being more men and horses trying to jam through a relatively small opening than could reasonably fit. Caesar saw this as well, giving us the order to advance closer to the Gallic position, in the event that in the panic that was about to result there would be an opportunity for us to rush the gate and force entry. The sight of our advance did indeed cause a panic among the defenders in the camp between their outer walls and the walls of the town, so what started outside the walls was now transferred to the men in the camp as they began to run wildly towards the town gates. Meanwhile, the Gallic cavalry reached the gates, with chaos ensuing as men tried to escape the onrushing Germans, who rode in cutting and hacking at the enemy trying desperately to jam themselves through the gate. Some men leaped from their mounts onto the wall, scrambling to get away from the certain death that awaited them. The screams of men being slaughtered carried across the field, mingling with the triumphant shouts of the Germans and the panicked neighing of the horses trapped against the wall and the mounts of the Germans. Just as the first of the men trying to flee into the town reached the gates, they were shut on them, causing even more of a panic as the locked out Gauls began hammering at the wood while looking up at the warriors along the wall, gesturing to them in a clear attempt to convince them to open the gate and let their comrades in. The men on the wall obviously refused, and now there were two scenes of mayhem and chaos, one by the outer gate, with the Germans finishing their slaughter of the Gauls who had not managed to squeeze through, and the other by the inner gate as the infantry milled about, waiting for us to come across the outer wall. Despite the obvious confusion, no order was given to advance and assault the wall, so once the slaughter was over at the outer gate, our cavalry retired back to their camps, leaving a field piled with the bodies of men and horses as we returned back to our tasks.