Drawing his sword, he pulled one of the rear rank cornicens aside.
“I’m not sure what the correct signal is, but I’m coming through to the front and I need a corridor clearing.”
The cornicen stared at him, shrugged, and began to blow on the mouthpiece of the instrument.
As the men of the Eleventh pulled to either side, Crispus grabbed the cornicen’s shoulder.
“Remain in position here. The moment that cavalry prefect returns, signal me immediately.”
The cornicen nodded.
“Sir.”
Rolling his shoulders and flexing the muscles in his sword arm, Crispus began to make his way between the soldiers toward the front. As he reached the front cohorts he immediately identified a problem. The Gauls were pulling back at several places along the front, opening up a gap between the two lines. Despite the desperate urgings of the centurions, the legionaries of the shield wall were bowing out, filling the space vacated by the Gauls. In their desire to reach the withdrawing Helvetii, the legionaries were stretching the shield wall to breaking point. If the Gauls managed a solid push back from where they were, they would punch through the line with hardly any resistance.
The Eleventh were still a green legion, unused to field warfare. Caesar had kept them back as a reserve unit on a number of occasions and, being suddenly in a frontline combat situation, the troops were eager to push and gain ground. The centurions, veterans drawn from other legions, were experienced enough to know that the line must hold together. They shouted their commands, and the optios at the back echoed the orders, but the troops were too enthusiastic and inexperienced to pay a great deal of attention.
Crispus was unused to command and relatively untried himself, but he had the advantage of a good education and the access to military histories that came with it. Something would have to be done, and he would have to do it.
Swallowing nervously, he made his way through to the front ranks, the path that had opened up narrowing as he reached the front. Close enough to the enemy, he spied one of the gaps that had opened up and the bulge in the shield wall. Shouting orders for them to step aside, he pushed and manhandled his way to the shield wall. Another nervous gulp and a fervent prayer to Mars, and he pushed through the shield wall from the rear, bursting out into the no-mans land between the lines.
Turning his back on the Gauls, he faced the advancing bulge in the lines of the Eleventh and shouted at the top of his voice.
“If I alone can shatter your formation, how effortlessly do you think the Gauls will manage?”
Gesturing over his shoulder with a thumb, he dived at the shield wall, where the arc was at its most stretched. Slamming into a legionary’s shield, he punched a hole in the shield wall and fell inside. Moments later the line closed up again, but the point had been made. The advancing arc began to pull itself back into a straight line. A centurion helped Crispus to his feet.
“Nice one, sir.”
Crispus brushed down his tunic and stood straight, addressing the legionaries in general.
“Now secure the line with all swiftness and the next man who disobeys his centurion will answer with his head.”
As he began to push his way back through the crowd, he heard the renewed shouts of the centurions to hold the line. Breathing a sigh of relief, he reached the open ground at the rear and nodded briefly to the cornicen.
“Alright, I’m back. Do I presume that there has been no sign of the cavalry?”
The cornicen shook his head.
Crispus looked around at the horizon and up at the sun. There was indeed no hint of the cavalry ala returning. They had only a couple of hours of light remaining on the battlefield, and he couldn’t wait for the cavalry any longer. The Eleventh were already under great strain. Once more, he gestured for the cornicen to join him.
“To which cohort do you belong?”
The cornicen nodded toward the rear line of the soldiers.
“The Ninth Cohort, sir.”
Crispus looked over the heads of the troops.
“In your opinion, are the four rear cohorts capable of useful action at this juncture?”
The cornicen shook his head.
“Unless the front breaks, we’re all in reserve sir.”
Crispus nodded. It was a gamble.
“In that case, have the senior centurions of the four rear cohorts report to me immediately.”
“Yes sir.”
As the cornicen made his way back across the line, Crispus offered up yet another prayer. To relieve the legion of almost half its number in the current circumstances was dangerous. If this worked, he would save the Eleventh, and possibly the whole army, but if he took four cohorts away and then the front line broke, there wouldn’t be enough support to stop the Gauls from getting through and behind the army.
Four centurions made their way gradually out of the rear ranks and hurried over to the legate.
Crispus cleared his throat.
“I have new orders for you, gentlemen. I appreciate that what I am about to attempt is a gamble, and that you may not approve, but the orders stand regardless.”
The four centurions looked at each other and back to Crispus, nodding assent.
“The way should be clear for the Ninth and Tenth Cohort to make their way around the perimeter of the field, keeping out of sight of the Gauls, and to achieve the ridge that the Gauls initially used for cover. I would estimate that you could reach your objective in a little less than one hour. You will need to remain completely hidden, however. If the Gauls are alerted to your presence before you are in position, you will not stand a chance.”
He waited for the inevitable complaints and comments, but such were not forthcoming. Glancing around the senior centurions, he saw speculative smiles playing across their faces.
“Once you are in position, you must remain out of sight and hold until you hear the call for a general advance. I will have that call put out in a little over an hour, so that is all the time you have. Can you do it?”
Two of the centurions saluted.
“It’ll be a pleasure sir.”
“Then get them moving immediately. Oh, and should you come across an errant cavalry ala on your journey, tell them that they are no longer needed here. In fact, you might prefer to commandeer them yourself. A few cavalry might prove useful to you.”
As the two centurions hurried off beck to their units, the other two shrugged.
“Then what do you intend for our cohorts, sir?”
Crispus smiled.
“We need to instil some confusion in the enemy, and to distract them for a time so that they do not see the other two cohorts leaving the main force. I want your units to pull out to the end of our line and perform a sweeping advance on the Gauls, pushing in on them in the fashion of a closing gate. Keep them occupied for the next thirty minutes or so.”
“Sir.”
As the others rushed off and left Crispus alone on the slight rise, he felt a thrill. The earlier trepidation he had felt had all but dissipated in the knowledge that he was doing everything an officer could do in the situation, and understanding that they were now in the hands of the fates.
Balbus had been aware for some time that the army had been flanked. He could only hope that Crispus was up to the task. As soon as the report had come in that the Eleventh had been forced to deploy alone and protect the army against a large reserve force, Balbus had tried to manoeuvre the Eighth to give him some support. Unfortunately, the Gauls had timed their attacks perfectly. By the time the enemy reserve had attacked the Eleventh, the front lines were well and truly mired down with the Helvetian main force.