After making the rounds, I retired to my tent to go through my own pre-battle ritual, sharpening the blades of my sword and dagger, running through all the things I needed to remember. No matter how many times we lined up for battle, I always worried that I would forget my duties in the heat of the fight, therefore I would go through the battle and how it would begin over and over in my mind. Once the cornu sounded the first call, all the written orders and the briefings disappeared like smoke before a strong wind, but there was much to do and remember in those moments before that happened, so I had found it useful to think about things as if I were on the battlefield at that moment. I do not know why, but I also found it relaxing to do so; perhaps it was the familiarity of the routine, or because it was one of the few things that I had any control over. Either way I found it comforting and it helped pass the time before I laid down to try to get some sleep.
~ ~ ~ ~
The next morning we were up well before dawn, and as I expected, during the morning briefing Caesar told me that the 6th would be the lead assault element attacking the village. Depending on how things went, we would continue our attack on the camp in the lead as well, unless we took heavy casualties, something that I did not want to think about. Caesar gave his usual pre-battle speech, firing the men’s enthusiasm, though it needed little enough stoking, then we marched out of camp, dispensing with shaking out into a triplex acies, using a double column three Centuries across, with the 7th Cohort on the left and the 10th Cohort on the right. The sky was just beginning to lighten as we marched closer to the village, the silhouettes of the men lining the ramparts barely visible. When we were just out of missile range, I gave the order to form testudo, the men moving smoothly, with no wasted motion. Moving to the side of one of the leading Centuries as they performed the maneuver, I watched the ramparts for the first volley of arrows and slingshot, cursing the sun that seemed to be taking its time in peeking over the horizon. Because the only practical approach was from the east, we would have the advantage of the sun shining in the eyes of the enemy, but the sun still had not fully risen, meaning I had to strain my eyes to watch for movement on the wall. We only had a second of warning as I saw men suddenly point their bows skyward, the movement of their arms drawing the bowstring giving me the sign that they were about to fire.
“Jupiter Optimus Maximus, protect this Legion, soldiers all.”
Someone shouted this, a lot of the men mumbling their own prayers, just as the air filled with streaking black slivers, going up, up, up before turning point down to begin falling towards us. Instinctively I hunched my shoulders, something I always did, though I do not know why, since it would be of no help if I was indeed struck. There was a whistling sound, followed immediately by a sound like a number of carpenters striking a blow against a block of wood at about the same time. Unfortunately, some of the arrows did not strike only shields, and I heard a few muffled screams and groans, where a man had gotten careless, moving his shield too far to one side or another, or had dropped it a bit too much to relieve the ache in his arm. Now they, or even worse, one of their comrades had paid the price for their carelessness. I stopped briefly as the men continued marching forward, looking behind the lead testudos to assess the damage, relieved to see only four or five men wounded badly enough that they could not continue, with none of them looking mortally wounded. Trotting back to the lead Century just as another volley was fired at us, an arrow narrowly missed me, the wind softly slapping my cheek as it passed. I was pleased to see that after the first arrows had been fired that the men were more alert, nobody falling to the ground. More enemy on the walls were moving, their arms whipping above their heads, now clearly visible, the sun finally making its appearance. While the eye can somewhat track an arrow, slingshot is much harder to spot and I felt particularly vulnerable, cursing myself for forgetting to grab one of the wounded men’s shields. The air was filled with what sounded like very angry bees buzzing, the sound reminding me how much I hated slingers. Shot slammed into shields, making a similar but slightly different sound than the arrows, a sharper crack than a thud, and it quickly drowned out all other noise, but still, we continued forward. Stopping to check the casualty situation once again, I was heartened to see that our losses were still light. There was one dead man from the Third Century, a neat round hole in his forehead from where he had evidently decided to drop his shield to risk a peek, and it was his that I took since he no longer needed it. Closing the distance and getting into javelin range, I ordered the formation opened, timing the command so that most of the enemy had just released their arrows or slings in order to give us a moment where the men could drop their shields and move without being skewered. The slight pause was all we needed, the men in the rear ranks who did not carry ladders drawing their arms back, javelins in hand, waiting for a target. Without being told, the men carrying the ladders moved forward, one man sitting with his back to the wall to brace it with the other men lifting it into place. Each Century had four ladders and I pushed my way to the nearest one, watching the other Centuries to make sure that all ladders were in place. Now the men in the rear were flinging their javelins as a number of Egyptians risked exposing themselves in order to try to push the ladder nearest them back down. I heard screams at the top of the wall of men being hit, a couple of them tumbling down to land at the feet of our men, who quickly finished those that were not dead already. Turning to the cornicen, I gave the order to sound the advance, then drew my sword and mounted the ladder, saying something to the men behind me, though I do not remember what it was. Then I began ascending the ladder, shield above my head. I was the first over the walls of the town, and for that honor, I was decorated by Caesar, earning the corona muralis, but that was in a future I had no thought for at that moment.
~ ~ ~ ~
It took a matter of just a few moments to clear the wall, and not much longer to sweep through the village, killing everyone we found. Truthfully, the Egyptians did not put up that much of a fight, I suppose because they knew they had a fallback position in the camp. Over the rear wall of the village and through the rear gate most of the defenders of the village now went, streaming back towards the camp. Wanting to keep up the pressure, we ran after the Egyptians, thrusting our blades into the backs of those who were too slow. Compounding the confusion were the villagers themselves. They panicked at the sight of Romans sacking their village, and they joined the soldiers who tried to get into their camp. Despite allowing in the first few hundred Egyptian soldiers, the men at the gates saw us in hot pursuit and shut them quickly, leaving the villagers to look out for themselves. The assault had reached a point where the men’s bloodlust was fully aroused, meaning that I and the rest of the Centurions would have had our hands full trying to keep them from putting the civilians to the sword, but the truth is I was not disposed to stop them. The slaughter was total, the only thing stopping us being the men on the walls of the camp who hurled their javelins down at those of us who got carried away in their pursuit and got too close. I lost a couple of men before I ordered the recall sounded, setting the signifer at a spot out of range of the enemy javelins. The detachments of men I sent back to retrieve the ladders had yet to join us, and I could see that Caesar was getting impatient.