“I don’t think it has to do with terrain, I think it has to do with us.” This came from Calienus, immediately catching our attention and to be honest, arousing our irritation. Seeing the reaction on our faces that his remark caused, he added quickly, “I’m not talking about us, the 10th, or the other veterans in the 7th 8th and 9th for that matter. But how long have those boys in the 11th and 12th been in the army now? A month?”
Someone calculated quickly and answered, “They’ve been in one week longer than a month.”
“So how well trained could they possibly be?” he asked, rhetorically, since we all knew the answer to that. They had taken a hard course in marching and all that goes with it, we had to give them that, but that left precious little time for weapons training. Their training regimen was composed of snatched bits of time whenever they could grab it. They had undoubtedly been training in the camp when we had attacked the Helvetii at the bridge, yet how much good would that have done? Sitting in silence as we mulled this over, I for one could see the sense of it, and I said so. Caesar was not fighting because he wanted to season the new Legions a bit more before we forced a battle on the Helvetii, so we would continue to march and wait.
The only event of any note that happened during this period was when our cavalry became overeager and attacked the rearguard of the Helvetii, all 4,000 of our men going against what we were told was 500 Helvetian warriors. Our men were bloodily repulsed, a fact that did not do much to instill confidence in our cavalry among the Legions, I can tell you that. This clash only strengthened Caesar’s resolve that biding his time was his best option, except that the supply situation soon threatened that, prompting him to try one stratagem before the situation turned desperate. The scouts reported that the enemy had gone into camp at the base of a hill some six miles distant. On questioning the scouts and locals friendly to us, Caesar learned that the hill was sufficiently large enough, with a slope practicable enough that he could send a Legion on a night march to take up position on the crest of the hill, getting there by traversing the reverse slope away from the Helvetii camp. Like we did with the assault on the bridge, the plan was that the dawn would arise to the sight of a Roman Legion, this time commanding the heights above their camp, with Caesar then bringing up the rest of the army to face them, in a pincer movement. The 10th was selected as the Legion to climb the hill, yet another sign of Caesar’s confidence in not just us but Labienus as well. Setting out that night once it was dusk, we waved cheerily at the other Legions left behind who were making their usual rude remarks and catcalls at us. The only time we do not hate each other is when we are fighting someone else, I thought as I listened to some of the more inventive and colorful taunts thrown at us as we tramped out of the gate. No matter, all that counts is when the fighting starts, they will be by our side when we need them.
During my career, I have read several books and treatises on the art of warfare, and there is always a phrase that makes me laugh when I read it. The “fortunes of war”, or “Bellona’s fickle caress”, or some such nonsense is how it is usually termed. Although I have no disagreement with the idea behind it, if you are one of those who are subject to these vagaries, it is not quite so easy to dismiss as a sign of the gods’ displeasure or indifference. Such was the case with Caesar’s night operation against the Helvetii. Oh, we did our part well enough; despite getting lost a couple of times in the dark, we found the enemy camp, skirted around it far enough away to avoid detection, then climbed up the small hill behind the camp, even having time to dig a shallow entrenchment before the sun came up. Then we waited for the rest of Caesar’s army to approach from the opposite direction, from the southeast where we had left them. It was enjoyable seeing the consternation of the Helvetii when they became aware of our presence above them, except we got a little nervous as the day wore on. Caesar’s progress was clearly marked for all of us to see, the accustomed pall of dust marking his march towards us, and to our eyes, it was painfully slow to watch. Luckily for us, it was clearly visible to the Helvetians as well, which is the only reason I am sure that they did not turn on us. Despite our superior position, they still outnumbered us more than 20 to one in warriors, so that it would not have taken long for them to walk up the hill to crush us. Nevertheless, it was clear that Caesar was up to something and this forced them to hesitate, unwilling to commit to our destruction while leaving the camp either undefended or lightly guarded. So like us, they sat watching that damn dust cloud move gradually in our direction. Then the cloud stopped, the dust slowly settling back to the earth, not more than a couple of miles from us. We could clearly see the army now, although it was still an indistinct mass on the horizon, with the sharper eyes among us reporting a great deal of activity at the front where the command group was normally located.
“What in Dis’ name are they waiting on?” fumed Optio Rufio, prompting a snapped reply from Pilus Prior Vetruvius about officers needing to keep their mouths shut.
He was merely voicing our own fears, yet an officer of any sort cannot do that, and the Pilus Prior was right to correct him, no matter how embarrassing it may have been for Rufio. It clearly was on the Pilus Prior’s mind as well, because he finally turned and stalked off, looking for the Primus Pilus and Labienus.
We sat for the better of the morning waiting before there was movement, and once it came, it was not what we had expected at all. Instead of advancing on the camp, the army began to march across our front to our left, instead of arraying in battle formation. They maintained a healthy distance away from the camp so that in the event the Helvetians decided to roll the dice, our army would have time to shake out into formation, while we would be poised to strike from their rear. However, the Helvetii were not foolish, at least this day, instead contenting themselves with drawing up into a battle line, then standing there watching as the Legions marched around them. This development caused us a great deal of consternation, since we had no way of knowing what had happened to change the plan. Once Caesar moved a distance away to a much smaller hill, only then did he have the Legions form up for battle, sending all the baggage train to the rear. This new position meant that while we would not be engaged in an assault from their direct rear, we would still be able to swing down the hill onto their flank, and for a bit there was speculation that this might actually be better than from the direct rear. Whatever the case, still nothing happened, the sun rising ever higher in the sky. First we were allowed to kneel, then finally sit down, and we prepared a cold meal while we waited, it being just a matter of moments before the dice came out and the gambling began. It was in this manner that we passed most of the day, with Labienus and the Centurions becoming increasingly frustrated. No word came from Caesar, so our orders still remained in place, but it became clear to all of us that the likelihood of attack was decreasing with every passing moment. The Helvetii sensed this, made their own preparations for breaking camp, and by a bit past midday had moved on again, leaving us to watch them as they withdrew to continue their westward march. After about two parts of a watch, the rear of their column was marching away, and we were soon left alone on the hill, wondering what was going on.
The anticlimactic result came in the form of a mounted courier, bearing orders from Caesar that told us to leave the hill and rejoin the army, which was drawn back up into marching formation to follow the Helvetii. It was not until that night when we made camp that we learned what took place. Caesar had sent a Centurion from the 7th Legion, a man named Considius, to scout ahead and report back to Caesar whether or not he saw us in position on the hill. Considius came galloping back to report that the hill was indeed occupied, not by the 10th Legion, but by Helvetii. He claimed to recognize the helmets and crests of our Legion as being of Gaulish origin, so Caesar took him at his word, and waited for the 10th to dislodge the force from the hill. However, we did not because we were already there, and finally Caesar made the decision to move from his original position to find a defensible location, thinking that the 10th had been wiped out and the Helvetians were of a mind to attack. Consequently, Caesar moved to a smaller hill, where he shook the Legions out for battle, though of course no such battle took place, and instead he watched helplessly as the Helvetii went marching by, intent on making progress, no matter how small. They managed to move less than seven miles that day, so that we only had to march three before making camp. Considius was not formally punished, although he was more or less laughed out of the army; I heard a rumor that he drank himself to death not long after this event. Such are the “fortunes of war” I suppose, except I imagine Considius would call it something else. We rejoined the army without problems, and bedded down for the night, cursing the name of Considius.