by Geoff Fabron
"Your Majesty will have need of experienced officials," said Exanzenus, addressing Monomachus for the first time. Alexander gave him a vicious sideways look. "Traitor!" he spat. Stephanie had abandoned him without a word and now Exanzenus was turning against him.
"So you're offering your services to me now?" said Monomachus, slightly amused. "Quick to change sides, aren't we."
"I serve the Empire," he replied, his voice still tinged with his natural arrogance. He had never had to beg for anything and he had no intention of starting now, even if his life depended on it.
The conversation was interrupted as a tribune hurried unannounced into the room, gave Monomachus an imperial salute and spoke quietly into his ear.
Monomachus waved the soldier away.
"It appears that the Pannonian legions have defeated my main army about twenty miles from here and are on their way to rescue you."
He stood up and looked directly at Alexander. "I'm afraid that signs your death warrant. The Pannonian legions put you father on the throne and they still have a strong attachment to the house of Ducas. They will never accept me while you are still alive."
He turned to a centurion standing nearby. "Take him out and shoot him."
He looked briefly at Exanzenus. "Take him too."
2nd September 1920
Vouzaria, Gaul
The next Saxon attack forced Cornelius to pull all his surviving men back to the railway station. It was a huge, impressive and solidly built two-storey edifice, erected nearly half a century before during the heyday of railway construction. It was shaped like an elongated horseshoe opening onto a series of platforms facing the river. The front of the station, facing the town, housed the booking halls with a restaurant upstairs that served the Imperial Hotel that made up the base or north side of the 'horseshoe'. An impressive staircase led down from the restaurant onto the station concourse that was covered with a steel and glass canopy that had somehow escaped any noticeable damage so far. To the south were offices for the staff of the Imperial Railways that ran the station and controlled the marshalling yards. On the other side of the platforms was a pedestrian bridge that connected the station to a complex of houses built for employees of the railway. Fulvia was organising the evacuation of the wounded across the bridge. Cornelius pleaded with her to go as well.
"No," she said curtly and with an air of finality. "There are some men who are too badly wounded to move. I'm staying."
Cornelius thought about arguing with her or even ordering a couple of military policemen to carry her across the river, but decided against it. Once Fulvia had made up her mind about something it was like talking to a brick wall, so reluctantly he left her in the hotel that now served as the hospital.
The restaurant was being used as the legions command and operations centre. The dining tables had been rearranged to accommodate maps and equipment, and it was here that Cornelius held what he expected to be his last senior officers meeting.
Besides Cornelius there were only two junior tribunes and four senior centurions present instead of the usual thirty or more - a reflection of the decimated state of the legion. The centurion of the 4th cohort, whom Cornelius had co-opted as the legion's adjutant gave a brief summary of the legions strength and deployment.
"We have between 800 and 900 men still capable of bearing arms, organised into four very weak cohorts. The 4th is holding the station buildings with the 2nd cohort dug in by the marshalling yards. The 1st cohort is holding the line between the station and the northern bridge while what is left of the 5th is holding the southern bridge."
"How are we for ammunition?" asked Cornelius.
"Plenty of rifle rounds and hand bombs," replied the acting adjutant. "We helped ourselves to whatever we could find in the warehouses although some of it was earmarked for other legions."
"There'll be hell to pay with the Quartermaster General when this is all over," commented an old centurion from the 2nd cohort with a laugh. "I think I'd rather face the Saxons!"
That raised a smile all round and Cornelius was grateful to the old soldier for lightening the mood.
"Despite the plentiful supply of bullets, we are short on machine rifles. We lost a large number in the fighting and during the withdrawals. We have been depending on their fire power to break-up the Saxon attacks."
They all nodded grimly in acknowledgement. The heavy water cooled machine rifles could spew out five hundred rounds a minute, but they were not very mobile.
"When can we expect reinforcements," asked a nervous young tribune. "I need to tell my men something," he added quickly lest someone thought he was scared. He had only arrived from Rome two days earlier and this was his first time under fire. He still had not realised that being scared in battle was quite normal.
"Soon”, answered Cornelius. A message had arrived from General Comenus half an hour ago. The rest of the front was still quiet and he had received a cease-fire request from Godisger, so he could release his reserves to help Cornelius. However they would not get there for at least another four hours.
The sharp crackle of gunfire drew everybody's attention to the open windows. A squad of riflemen lined the window ledges and the optio in charge glanced outside carefully.
"They're driving our pickets in sir," he announced, gripping his rifle tightly and subconsciously slipping the safety catch off.
The area in front of the station was fairly open with a small park taking up most of the space with only a few buildings along the edge. Whilst inadequate for defence, the park could serve to cover the approach of an attacker, so Cornelius had deployed a dozen legionaries in a picket line to give warning of a Saxon move on the station.
"Well gentlemen," said Cornelius picking his helmet up off the table, "it looks like this meeting is over. Return to your units, and good luck."
They all saluted and made their way out, leaving Cornelius and the adjutant alone with the squad of riflemen in the room.
"Permission to rejoin my cohort sir," requested the adjutant formally.
Realising that the centurion would rather fight what may be his last battle amongst his old comrades Cornelius nodded his approval.
"Yes, of course. I don't have much need of an adjutant any more. Thank you for all that you have done."
The centurion saluted, picked up his helmet and collected his rifle from the rack beside the door on his way out. Cornelius walked over to the rack and selected a rifle for himself and filled the pouches and pockets of his battle dress with bullets. He then went over and joined the men at the windows.
Franz sighted his rifle at the figure in the window and slowly squeezed the trigger, holding his breath as he did so. The figure in the window disappeared, and Franz swore when just as quickly it reappeared again. Franz worked the bolt on his rifle, ejecting the empty shell and chambering another round. He then took out his pocket watch.
"Another minute," he muttered to himself, and turned to the men around him amongst the trees and bushes of the park opposite the front of the station. "Keep firing! Make them keep their heads down!"
The tempo of gunfire from the Saxons increased in obedience to his exhortation, and Franz took another shot at the elusive figure in the upper window. A yelp of pain distracted him, as the soldier ahead of him took a bullet in his shoulder and was spun around by the impact, falling close to where Franz was crouching. The soldier lay on the ground clutching his bloody and shattered arm, cursing the Romans through clenched teeth. Franz ignored him and took aim at the window again.
Cornelius flinched as another bullet ricocheted off the masonry around the window and showered his helmet with stone chips. The squad of riflemen in the room with him kept up a steady return fire, all except one man, shot through the head and lying in an ever-increasing pool of his own blood.
The first rush by the Saxons had been beaten off easily and the two sides had settled into a fire fight with the attackers laying down a heavy, if generally inaccurate, fire. Cornelius sat with his back to
the wall for a moment to reload the magazine of his rifle, comforted by the thick stones that separated him from the enemy outside. The Saxons had not tried to storm the station again since their first attempt and Cornelius was beginning to think that they had lost the stomach for another attack, when a tremendous shout rang out.
Raising his head carefully to look over the window ledge Cornelius saw a solid mass of Saxons in their blue-grey uniforms charging out of side streets and from behind buildings at the south end of the park, heading for the offices on that side of the station. From the upper stories of the building where the Saxons had been hiding came the flashes of dozens of machine rifles blazing away at the Romans defending the offices.
Cornelius watched for a few seconds as the Saxons poured across the gap between the buildings, oblivious of casualties. Then he turned to the men around him.
"You two!" he shouted at the nearest soldiers, "come with me. The rest stay here and keep those buggers out there occupied!" He ran out of the room followed by the two legionaries. Cornelius collected half of the defenders from the other rooms and led them down the ornate staircase to the concourse where he found the ex-adjutant with another group of legionaries.
"They've been holding our attention here while they infiltrated men on our right," shouted Cornelius above the noise of the battle that echoed around the cavernous space of the station concourse. "They're going to break in at the offices and then take the rest of us in the rear. We've got to stop them or the town will be lost."
There were about twenty-five men in total, many with blood stained bandages, all with rifles and fixed swords. This was his last reserve. "Follow me!" cried Cornelius and set off at a steady run towards the sound of the fighting.
The offices on the southern side of the station comprised a number of small rooms and had windows looking out onto the marshalling yard. However there were no windows and only a few doors that opened onto the station concourse. In the centre of this block of offices was a tunnel, about fifteen feet wide that led into the station from the railway yard. At the entrance to the tunnel was a pair of heavy wooden gates, which were barred and reinforced with a couple of railway sleepers.
The heavy machine rifle fire had forced the legionaries away from the windows and into the interior of the offices, allowing the attackers to reach the building. Saxon casualties piled up outside the windows as the defenders concentrated their fire on those brave enough to attempt to climb through. The Saxons then began throwing hand bombs into each room, killing or disabling enough of the Romans to allow them to gain a foothold inside.
The surviving legionaries made a fighting withdrawal from the offices, as more and more attackers poured through the windows. One group of Saxons made their way into the tunnel through a side door and began to remove the railway sleepers wedged up against the gates.
Cornelius and his men arrived outside the offices as the last defenders were making their way onto the concourse. About twenty yards from the building there were a series of small kiosks that sold refreshments and newspapers to passengers on their way to catch their train. Cornelius deployed his men there and rallied the dozen or so survivors from the offices. The first Saxons to make their way onto the concourse from the offices were swiftly cut down and the attackers found themselves hemmed inside by the fire from Cornelius's men. The tunnel was the only practical place of access into the station and it was here that Cornelius deployed over half of his small force.
The Saxons had managed to remove the sleepers and break the door open, giving the hundreds still outside access. They made their way along the tunnel only to be met by regular volleys of rifle fire from the other end.
Although rarely used in combat, the imperial army still trained its infantry to fire by volley. When used against mass targets such as rioting mobs or tribal warriors, volley fire had a tremendous psychological effect and for this reason had been retained by the Romans long after it had been abandoned by most other armies. In the narrow confines of the tunnel, it was horribly effective.
Every few seconds a volley of half a dozen high velocity bullets would tear their way through the ranks of the Saxon soldiers in the tunnel. Each bullet would rip through two or three bodies that would then be trampled over by those behind. After a couple of minutes the tunnel was piled almost waist high with bodies and the Saxons had stopped advancing taking cover behind the human barricade to return the Roman fire.
Cornelius stopped the volley firing and ordered his men to keep the tunnel and doors onto the concourse covered. He was just beginning to feel in control of the situation when a tremendous explosion occurred at the front of the station, shattering the roof of the concourse and raining pieces of glass down upon them. A cloud of smoke and dust was billowing out from either side of the grand staircase which Cornelius had come down a few minutes earlier. The explosion had dulled his hearing but he could hear shouts and cries amidst the gunfire and scores of Saxons came out of the smoke led by a sword-waving officer.
He also heard a train whistle......
Franz had noticed that the fire from the station had slackened and correctly deduced that the Romans had shifted men to counter Edwin's attack. The original plan called for Franz and his force to keep the Romans occupied while Edwin got his men into position and set-up his machine rifles to support the attack. However Franz was not one to forgo an opportunity when one offered itself and decided to attack as well. He ordered up a squad of assault engineers and while half of his men continued to lay down a suppressing fire the others charged the Romans defending the station entrance.
Dozens of Saxons were shot down by the legionaries from behind their barricade of furniture, carts and sandbags that blocked the ornate archways into the station, but enough reached them to keep the defenders occupied whilst the engineers placed a series of demolition charges. As soon as their work was finished, Franz ordered a bugler to sound retreat and the Saxons turned and ran. A few of them were caught in the blast that flung pieces of barricade and station facade in all directions, but it cleared the entrance of defenders and much of the barricade itself.
The bugle blew again, and all the Saxons still in front of the station rose to their feet. Franz drew his sword and ordered the standard bearer to unfurl the regimental colours. The legionaries on the upper level continued to fire but were unable to stem the tide that swept over the wreckage of the barricade through the cloud of smoke and dust, around the staircase and onto the station concourse.
"Fall back!" cried Cornelius. "Head for the rail yard!"
They fired off a quick volley at the rapidly approaching Saxons and then started running towards the platforms that would give them access to the marshalling yards. They reloaded their rifles as they ran, stopping briefly to lose off a shot at their pursuers. Their only hope was to join up with whatever was left of the 2nd cohort and retreat across the river. The town was lost to the Saxons.
They turned the corner at the end of the concourse where the office building joined the wall that separated the marshalling yard from the town. The first platform ran the length of the wall and connected with the concourse. Emerging out of the gloom and smoke of the enclosed station area into the outdoors caused Cornelius to close his eyes against the bright sunlight and he had to blink several times to clear them. He blinked again as he saw hundreds of soldiers disembarking from trains in the yard. Some were already taking up firing positions and were shooting at the Saxons as they began to appear.
The new arrivals were not dressed in the same green-brown uniform as Cornelius and his men, but wore a lighter, dust coloured battledress yet from the equipment they wore, the shape of their helmets and the way they deployed for battle it was clear that they were legionaries. Then he heard orders shouted in Greek and he knew that the Army of Asia Minor had arrived.
When they saw the Roman reinforcements in the rail yard, the Saxons came to a halt, not due to any weight of fire but by the realisation that this was as far as they would ever get. They fired off a f
ew shots and slowly began to retire.
Franz, seeing his men faltering, grabbed the regimental flag from its bearer and began to wave it. "Hold fast! Rally on me! We can hold them here!" He tore off his helmet and flung it to the ground. "Halt! Take up defensive positions!" he screamed. A few men stopped, found what cover they could around Franz and began to fire at the ever-increasing number of Romans in the yard, but most continued to make their way towards the rear.
Cornelius saw the Saxon officer take off his helmet and raised his rifle. He had only met Franz at the lodge once, but the family resemblance to Katherine was very strong and his finger froze on the trigger. As a soldier it was his duty to shoot an enemy commander who was rallying his men, but could he kill the brother of the woman he loved, even if that man hated him?
Cornelius lowered his rifle. He could not do it. He watched, feeling detached from all around him, as Franz desperately tried to form a defence line, but his men no longer had their hearts in it.
Then it was all over. The small group of Saxons around Franz was raked by machine rifles. Franz was lifted by a burst and slammed against one of the pillars that supported the concourse roof. He fell to the ground in a crumpled heap, still grasping the flag, which now covered him like a funeral shroud.
The last Saxon offensive was over.
Chapter Nineteen
September 1920
Within a couple of days of the ceasefire Saxon troops had begun their withdrawal back across the Rhine. Although there were calls for reparations and punitive measures against Saxony from elements of the Senatorial and Traditionalist parties the regency council agreed a return to the status quo between the two states before the introduction of Exanzenus’s Trade Law. The status of the Duchies would be resolved following a joint summit but Constantinople gave assurances that no settlement would be imposed that were against the views of the people.