by Ian Miller
After he had ridden about a hundred and fifty meters, he ordered his horsemen to wheel. Now, the Parthians who had followed were strung out into a straggling line, and his horsemen charged at them.
As he told Timothy later, in some ways the charge was less effective than he hoped, as he spent almost as much effort trying to avoid falling off his horse as striking blows, but with the extended line of Parthians he could strike, regain balance, and strike again. In almost no time at all, these Parthians realized their position was hopeless and they began to run. Some ran back to their main force, but others simply ran. Some on the hill turned around, saw their fleeing comrades, and in the absence of clear orders, began to falter.
Gaius' small force now began to attack the Parthian flank. His tactics were 'hit and run' and his small force striking at different points increased the confusion in the enemy, as too many of them were spending too much time looking over their shoulders. These attacks were not free strikes, however. Four of his horsemen were pulled to the ground, and only two of these could make their escape. Gaius himself received a blow on his leg, which meant that later one greave, having done its job, had to be discarded, and he received a glancing blow to the other leg behind its greave, which meant that when he was on the next 'run' phase, he had to pause and tightly wrap his leg in a makeshift cloth bandage to stop the flow of blood.
As the final reserves of heavy infantry struck and this small force of cavalry seemed to move around their flank, the Parthians needed to know what to do next, and when they saw their leader down, the advance simply stopped. They tried to regroup into a square at the foot of the hillock, but the Roman infantry immediately closed on them, thus depriving them of the space they so badly needed. Then, to add to the confusion, large rocks flew into the centre of the Parthians from above.
The battle waged almost indeterminably for some time. The Roman infantry now came back down from the hill, and pressed forward into Parthians now fighting in two directions, while the sounds of the cavalry attack at the rear could be heard. The Parthians at the very front remained brave and determined, perhaps because there was little option, but the soldiers in the middle could now sense that things were not going their way, and they began to waver.
It might have seemed that the battle was wavering, and the Parthians might yet win, for they still heavily outnumbered the Romans, but then the last century from the right hillock engaged the rear of the Parthians in wedge formation. Some of the Parthians, seeing this small force arrive from where it had no right to be assumed the front had collapsed elsewhere, and they turned and ran. As the Roman wedge struck into those remaining, their first strikes were effectively into soldiers quite unprepared for an attack from an area that was supposed to be occupied by their own reserves. The Parthians were reduced to confused chaos, and panic.
Screams from the front, screams from the back, nobody was quite sure what to do. Then, at the rear, more began to turn and run, until the whole rear began to peel away in layers. In less than a minute after the peeling began, the Parthian forces on the flat ceased to be an effective fighting unit. As the flight got underway, the horns of the first cavalry detachment could be heard, and the flight became a rout.
On the hillock, the fighting had reached a stalemate. Fighting an uphill opponent was always difficult, and these Parthian soldiers met this problem by employing soldiers with long spears at the front, and slingers and archers from the rear. From the Roman perspective, the Parthians were too close for the heavy weapons, and too far away for optimum use of the gladii. On hearing the cavalry charge, the senior Centurion decided to take advantage of the uncertainty and ordered the front line to advance. As the Parthians on the hillock saw the faltering right flank, they too began to falter, at which point the wall of Roman shields began an unstoppable advance. Men turned and ran, men fell over bodies, then to be backstabbed by the wall of gladii. The only way to survive seemed to be to run in a direction away from whomever the Romans were chasing. Accordingly the fleeing Parthians began to scatter, and now there was no defence to the Roman cavalry. The message was clear: surrender or be lanced.
Gaius sheathed his now bloody sword and could hardly believe the scene. There were bodies everywhere, men running in all directions, bleeding men hobbling in every direction, some braver men were trying to form a square, only to be pushed back by a charging wall of Roman shields as they cursed and swore at their cowardly compatriots, while other groups of Parthians, seeing no hope of escape, were laying down their arms and were pleading for mercy.
The cleanup took an hour, and by then the unhurt Parthians were being herded into a closed area, disarmed, and were given water. The wounded were gathered together, those with relatively minor wounds were the first to be treated, those who were clearly going to die were quickly dispatched, and those in between were brought to tents where treatment would be given eventually, based on the likelihood of success.
The Roman wounded were treated immediately. Gaius himself was dragged down onto a bench and made to sit still while his leg was washed, cleaned with a herbal infusion, a cream added, flesh was sewn together, then proper bandages were tied. Gaius' first action after that was to personally hobble to each of the wounded soldiers, ensure they were getting appropriate treatment, and to encourage them, and to talk with them, listening to their stories of their courage, what they did to the enemy, and then, how they got their wounds. Gaius was well aware many of the stories of heroism would be somewhat exaggerated but his view was, if a man was wounded for Rome in combat, he had a right to exaggerate his own heroism, at least to some extent. The worse the wound, the bigger the permitted exaggeration.
All the wounded were grateful to hear that they had won. The victory was not without cost; for a number of dead Roman soldiers had been brought to a central point, for identification and eventual cremation after the paper work was completed. But the casualties were rather fewer than any had expected when this fight had started, and this too brought gratitude from the troops. The feelings about Gaius' avoidance of initial combat were gone. They had a commander who had lured the enemy to fight on his terms, to beat a much larger enemy with few losses. That was the sort of commander they wanted.
The Parthian camp was demolished, and anything of value collected. There was a huge amount of loot, and quite a considerable amount of silver, to be used as pay for the troops. A useful contribution to Little Boots' treasury, Gaius thought wryly. It would hardly endear him to the Princeps, but it would at least keep the Princeps out of his hair.
Once this was done, the men had the opportunity to clean up. Almost every soldier had blood caked on them, often on the legs where they had trampled over the wounded enemy, and the blood, sweat and dust left everybody extraordinarily grimy. Today they would clean themselves their weapons and their armour, the following day they would clean their clothing.
Later, Gaius ordered extra rations and plenty of wine to be made available for his men. The Parthians watched from their enclosure as their victors celebrated. Gaius first made his way around the Centurions, the optiones and other principales to find the names of those who had fought particularly well. It was his intention to ensure that everyone worthy of a decoration should receive one at some later date, and it was important that his officers and NCOs knew that he required their nominations. Then he made his way around the groups of men. Some were noisy, and he listened to their bragging, their excitement, or however they expressed their relief to be alive and victorious. Others were much quieter, and they sat in groups, talking quietly, washing the horrors of the killing field from their mind, and Gaius made a point of thanking each of them for their efforts of the day, and making sure that there were no unresolved issues or problems. If a soldier had fought well, the slate of remaining fatigues could be wiped clean. He also made a point of speaking to every soldier who had been recommended by someone above him, to make sure that the soldiers knew their efforts were appreciated. Then he made his way around the watch guards. He made s
ure that the name of each was recorded, and he promised ample supplies of wine, or whatever else they fancied, would be theirs on return to a major city.
Chapter 32
A crowd gathered as the cohort marched towards the town so recently sacked. When the Romans had headed into the desert, bets had been placed. There had been two schools of thought: the Romans would be massacred by the far superior Parthian force, or secondly, the Romans would march around, come back, take more supplies and go home. Instead, here was the cohort with over three times their own number as prisoners. The cohort came to the edge of the town, where Gaius addressed the crowd. Everybody who had had goods stolen should describe their loss in detail to the quartermaster and his staff. If their goods were present, they would be returned. Anyone suspected of making grandiose or false claims would be investigated, and if false claims could be established, those false claimants would join the Parthians.
Further, any woman who had been raped or violated, or anyone who could identify a murderer should now step forward. Those that did had their stories heard, and if corroboration could be found, those details were recorded. Then the citizens were formed into a line, and marched along in front of the lines of Parthians. A woman suddenly shrunk away from one, almost fearfully. A legionnaire grabbed the man by the hair and dragged him forward. As the man struggled, a second legionnaire kicked him viciously in the stomach, and the man fell to the ground, to be dragged, whimpering, to an assembly point. The scene was repeated, sometimes the accuser leaping and clawing the accused, sometimes the accuser merely pointing the accused out and screaming abuse. Soon a group of forty-four Parthians had been separated.
Gaius then addressed the remaining Parthians. "You men have raided or assisted the raiding of territory under the Pax Romana, and for that there is a price that you will pay. These other men," and he indicated the forty-four, "have been accused of more serious crimes carried out during the raid on this village. I shall now hear the charges, and the accused's defence. If any of you have relevant evidence you may step forward and give it. In this I give you my word. If you give relevant evidence which helps clarify the situation, your personal situation will improve."
He then heard the individual cases, and seventeen other Parthians did give evidence supporting the villagers. Gaius then announced that he found the forty-four guilty, and ordered them to be presented the following morning. He then gave further instructions to some of his men, then he addressed the small number of witnesses. By now he had established that this raid was essentially an individual event, and was not a deliberate violation of the treaty by the Parthian nation.
"You men," he looked down at them, "have committed crimes, but I keep my word. You have helped identify the particularly guilty, and as a reward, you may go. You have a one-day start, and if, after tomorrow you are found on Roman soil, you will be killed. Take bread, take water, and go."
* * *
The following morning, Gaius first addressed the main group of Parthians.
"As the price of your adventure, you will be taken and sold as slaves, the proceedings to be taken to the Roman treasury. As slaves, your very lives are at the disposal of your owner, although you will have limited rights. However, if your master wishes to flog you, be flogged. If you raise your hand against your master, try to escape, or do anything else that could be considered as a revolt, you will be punished according to Roman law. You will now stand in line and observe what that punishment entails."
He turned towards the forty-four, and addressed them. "You have been found guilty of crimes punishable as follows. By the order of the Senate for the People of Rome, endorsed by the divine Augustus, by the great Tiberius, and by the current Princeps of Rome, Gaius Julius Caesar, you shall be stripped of your clothing, you shall be suitably scourged such that you know pain, then you shall be crucified. You may have hurt villagers, but they will know, without any shadow of doubt that yours is the greater pain." He turned to a Centurion, nodded, and said, "Commence!"
For over half an hour the canes and studded whips flashed, until the bloodied victims could barely stand. Then they were dragged and laid down, an arm extended, and as the nail was driven through each arm, the victim invariably gave out a terrible scream. Then the second wrist, then the legs were folded over, and a larger nail was driven through both. Water was splashed over the faces of anyone who had fainted through pain, and when it was clear that the victims were fully conscious, the crosses were hoist up.
A sequence of screams and moans ensued, as the men squirmed and tried to ease the pain, each movement accentuating it. Then one man slumped forward. A soldier tried to prop him up, and although the pain through the arms must have been excruciating, the man continued to slump. Gaius ordered the soldier to let the man be.
As the day proceeded, the victims became fainter, their cries more pitiful, and the flies became thicker. The villagers by now had left, their thirst for revenge assuaged. The remaining Parthians were kept standing rigidly. If they did not, another cross could be found, or failing that, there was always tomorrow.
Then, as the sun began to set, Gaius nodded and announced that Rome required pain, but was not entirely without mercy. He ordered the mallet. A huge mallet was produced, and a soldier walked along the line of crosses, smashing the legs of each victim. There were more screams, then the bodies slumped forward, no longer able to support themselves. Death by asphyxiation would soon follow.
"That," Gaius addressed the prisoners as the light began to fade, "is the consequence of any further rebellion on your part. When you are sold, if your owner beats you, bear it or die on the cross."
* * *
Gaius had sent a scout with a message explaining what had happened immediately following the victory, and to his surprise a message came back. Governor Vitellius had been replaced, and as a reward for a job well done, the new Governor was to permit his cohort to parade his victory, and his captives, through Damascus. Accordingly, as the cohort reached sight of the city walls, Gaius rode forwards and took his position at the head of the column. He would lead the first and third centuries into the city, followed by the prisoners escorted by further soldiers, followed by the long baggage train, and finally the second century would bring up the rear.
When he reached within a hundred meters of the wall, he halted, and, as part of the ceremony, the loudest horns blew the ceremonial announcement of triumphal arrival. A horn response came quickly, and slowly the massive Jupiter gate opened, and before him were the colonnades of the Via Recta. He adjusted his helmet, then gave the signal to advance. As his horse commenced a slow trot, the caligae of the first cohort smashed into the stone. They had returned triumphal, and they would announce this to all.
As his horse carried him through the great arch, a great cheer rose up. He was surprised at first, then he noticed the remaining troops of the legion lining the way. They were cheering forcefully, for a triumphal march had two purposes: it celebrated the returning troops, and it intimidated any citizens who were not wholly devoted to the Roman cause. The general population also cheered loudly and wildly, and a few flowers came flying through the air towards Claudius. It was cheap to cheer, the noise put the Romans in a better mood, and the better a successful soldier felt towards a city, the better their lives tended to be. As he rode slowly along the street, Gaius felt proud. Here, on his second command, a little over 900 hundred men were escorting just under three thousand captives, and a considerable baggage train of silver and weapons. Behind him his soldiers marched steadfastly on, the iron discipline clear, but the look on each man's face left no doubt of the pride they felt. It was a moment he knew he would cherish as long as he lived, and he savoured every second of it.
Eventually he had to turn off the Via Recta and proceed towards the legionary headquarters. A sense of relief came over him. He had returned, successfully, and now he could bathe, and eat better food. Then he noted wryly that even his formal commander had turned out, but he was not in direct line. Before him was a
new Governor, Publius Petronius, and Gaius had little doubt of the significance of the invitation to report to him rather than the Legate.
"So," Petronius eyed Gaius, when they had returned to the Governor's villa, and a cup of wine had been given to each, "you had a victory."
"The troops had a victory," Gaius replied.
"Yes, they did," Petronius nodded, "but you did too. Why didn't you pursue the enemy first up?"
"You disapprove, sir?"
"I didn't say that," Petronius snorted. "I wish to know why. Believe me, when I get around to disapproving, you will know it."
Gaius bowed his head slightly at the rebuke, and replied, "I was reasonably confident the Parthians would have the pass set as an ambush, and even if they didn't, was I going to pursue them across the desert into Parthia? Then was I going to fight my way back out? I doubt the Princeps would be too amused by my starting another war."
"You wouldn't be the first Roman to start a war all on his own," Petronius smiled, "although I concede one cohort would be a remarkably small strike force to work with."
"Anyway," Gaius continued, "I was certain they'd follow, and I preferred to fight on my terms."
"A bit arrogant," Petronius said impassively.
"I don't think I was . . ." Gaius started.
"You were," Petronius interrupted, "and that's good, if it's accompanied with thought. I gather when you started towards the oasis, the troops were a bit pissed off."
"Yes, sir," Gaius admitted.
"But not once the fighting started," Petronius smiled.
"I don't think they had time," Gaius replied.
"On the contrary," Petronius said, "once you had the enemy cavalry cut to pieces below you, and hardly a scratch on your troops, you had the men absolutely with you. Amongst other things, they like to win without getting hurt, and that only happens with a commander who knows what he's doing."