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Word came that Pompey’s father-in-law, Scipio, was marching to Pompey with the Syrian Legions, choosing to take the long march overland rather than attempt moving his troops by sea and risk losing them to our warships or foul weather. To keep them from joining Pompey, Caesar sent the 11th, 12th, and a force of 500 cavalry to intercept them. Additionally, he sent the 27th into Thessalia because a delegation had come from there, asking Caesar for his protection. Finally, we needed grain and it had to be foraged, prompting Caesar to take five Cohorts from the tribune Acilius, left behind at Oricum. Oricum was also where part of our fleet was now based, and because he was now shorthanded, Acilius took further precautions to safeguard the fleet by sinking a couple of derelicts in the harbor mouth. Although we recognized the need to provide men for the tasks that Caesar had set for them, none of us liked the idea of whittling down the size of the army. As it was, we were essentially stranded in territory that had been Pompeian for many months before we arrived, and despite being greeted like conquering heroes by the people of the towns we had entered so far, none of us put much faith in the steadfast nature of the Greeks. We would not have been a bit surprised if the towns that opened their gates to us just as quickly closed them if they thought that Pompey held the upper hand. What happened at Oricum did not help that feeling, when Pompey’s son Gnaeus in a single raid managed to overcome the obstacles Acilius had put in place, destroying the part of our fleet harbored there. Not content with that, Gnaeus then hurried north to Lissus where Antony's fleet was moored, burning most of the ships there to the waterline. We were well and truly fucked, stuck in Greece even if we wanted to leave and our supply situation just became even more critical now that we had no way of bringing supplies from Italia. I think it was because of these events that Caesar decided to make a move that he hoped would end the war.
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Within a couple of watches of receiving word of the fleet at Lissus being burned, Caesar ordered us on the march, leading us to a spot just on the other side of the Genusis (Seman) River from where Pompey was camped at Asparagium. Caesar was determined to goad Pompey into doing battle, ordering us into battle formation, where we stood for the better part of a day, but Pompey refused to take the bait. That night, Caesar called a conference, announcing that his next move was to march on Dyrrhachium.
“My hope is that by moving swiftly, Pompey will be forced either to hurry to Dyrrhachium, where we will face him, or he will abandon it, and give up his supply base. Of the two, I frankly prefer the second option because not only will it deprive Pompey of his supply base, it will solve our own dilemma.”
We all saw the sense of what he said. Having received our orders, we dispersed to our respective Legions and Cohorts to get them ready to move in the morning. Because Asparagium was between us and Dyrrhachium, we could not make a direct march, instead first marching westward in the opposite direction of what would be considered the shortest distance, before turning north once we put a range of hills between us and Pompey. Quite naturally, Pompey assumed that the reason we were marching away was because of our supply situation. Consequently, he made no move to follow us, nor did he return to Dyrrhachium for almost half a day. When we turned north, Pompey realized what we were about, whereupon our scouts reported his breaking camp and beginning to move towards Dyrrhachium. We only stopped for perhaps a full watch to rest, not even bothering to make camp but just laying on our gear before resuming the march in the night. Reaching the Arzen River, we turned west to follow it downstream until reaching a ridgeline that pointed towards the coast before following that until the road to Dyrrhachium was visible, with Dyrrhachium to our north. Less than a third of a watch later, we saw Pompey’s advance guard approaching from the south; we had beaten them and cut them off from Dyrrhachium.
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Now, both sides were in difficulty, although we were still in greater peril. Our army was cut off from our supply base across the water, but now Pompey’s army was cut off from Dyrrhachium. However, Pompey’s problem was more easily solved because he still had control of the sea, and it was a short cruise from Dyrrhachium to his current camp for the ferrying of supplies. Between the two armies was a rushing stream, and with this barrier forestalling an attack, we began fortifying our respective camps. Despite the immediately surrounding area being extremely hilly, there were numerous hill farms where grain was being grown and we knew that there would be a sharp struggle for the food growing there. The only way to have any chance of success in foraging was to keep Pompey’s troops at bay, giving us free access to what grain there was available. To accomplish that, once again we began to dig. As we had done at Alesia, Caesar ordered the building of a contravallation, although this would not be as elaborate as at Alesia because we had some help, courtesy of the terrain, there being places where there were hills with such steep escarpments that we could use them as part of the defenses to keep Pompey’s army penned in. In effect, what we were to do was to build a series of forts on the tops of these hills, then link the hills with a line of double entrenchments. Although we set immediately to work, Pompey divined what we were about, consequently beginning his own counter-works, with the intent of claiming as much open-grazing land along the coast as he could, since he possessed many times our number of animals, both for use as cavalry and for transport, as well as for food. Thus began a race, with both sides working southward; our goal was to extend the line past Pompey’s, curving west to the coast and cutting him off. His goal, of course, was to keep us from doing that. It was grim, hard work, done in shifts through all watches, but after a few days, the shifts stopped. Every man from then on expected to work to his utmost before staggering off to snatch perhaps a watch’s worth of sleep before returning.
While I and the other officers did not do much actual digging, we were expected to be present whenever any of our men were working, along with attending the briefings that were held every morning, meaning that sleep was in even shorter supply for us. Nevertheless, I had to set an example for the men, making the idea of acting like I was tired simply out of the question. I made sure I shaved every morning, a task I had long since stopped performing myself, having Zeno do it, one of the few luxuries of rank in which I indulged. The first couple of days before I got used to the onerous job again, I looked like I had been in a skirmish after each shave, coming out the worse for it with nicks and cuts all over my cheeks and jaw. The men thought this hilarious, and while normally I would have smacked them for their impudence, I saw that it helped morale, so I took the ribbing with as much grace as I could muster. Day by day, foot by foot, the work continued on the double line, although not without some excitement, with Pompey sending out sorties on a regular basis to try disrupting our work. Of course we did the same, and finally the time came when my Cohort was selected to go raiding the Pompeian lines. It was an opportunity we welcomed, although not for the reason one might suspect. It was less about the chance at glory and finally doing battle than it was a break from the monotony of digging, at least where the men were concerned, making for an added element to the normally charged atmosphere in our Cohort area the evening before the raid as the men made their preparations. It was almost like we were going on parade; I found myself quite at a loss because the men turned to making their equipment ready with such zeal that I essentially had nothing to do. Seeing almost immediately there was no need for the vitus, instead I strode down the lines of our tents; to a man, they were all bent over their armor, scrubbing furiously, restoring the shine and getting the last specks of rust off of them. Or they were honing their swords; the men from the Century long ago designated as armorers bent over a pile of blades, working each one of them before handing them to their owner, who would then go through their own ritual of sharpening the blade, usually just before the call to assemble to go into battle. The shields were being attended to as well; bosses polished, paint touched up on the Legion emblem, the finished ones standing in a line in front of each tent, ready for my inspection. I do not think I could have been any prouder of my Cohort than I was at that moment. Here were true professionals, men who did not need the vitus across their backs, knowing what needed to be done because they knew that part of the battle was in the details being attended to at that moment. It may sound simple, perhaps even silly, to think that shining armor or a polished helmet would make a difference in battle, but it does. It makes a great deal of difference because it shows not just the enemy but their fellow Legionaries that they are proud of the job they do, making them fight harder because they do not want to let their comrades down, and knowing all the hard work that went into preparing for that moment of battle. This is one of the secrets that made us, the armies of Rome, so formidable and impossible to defeat, at least on a regular basis. Of course, this time I could not banish the thought from my mind that across the open ground between the two lines were men doing the exact same thing. Maybe not at that moment, and probably not directly across from us; the odds of both commanders picking the exact same spot to send men across in a raid at the exact same time were too high to waste time contemplating. Nevertheless, I knew that whether or not they were actually performing the same ritual that we were at that moment, the instant they saw my Cohort marching across the open ground, they would understand why we looked like we were standing for inspection.