Legio XVII: Battle of Zama

by Thomas A. Timmes

  Durius’ attitude changed in an instant. “Yes sir, it is clear, but why?”

  “Today, I and two Legates inspected the training site and the two Legion camps. The training site is in total disrepair, and the two empty camps are unfit for dogs much less Legionaries. They are filthy, smell of human excrement, and are full of garbage. You have failed to perform your duties in a satisfactory manner. In addition, I don’t like your surly attitude. Centurion, take him away!” When he left the room, Manius said, “Pittacus, you can scratch that item off of the ‘to do’ list.”

  Two days later, Centurions Sertorius and Sentius rode into camp and asked to see the Praetor. Cassius showed them in. Sertorius spoke first, “Sir, I am Centurion Sertorius from Legio VI.” Sentius added, “And I am Centurion Sentius, also from Legio VI. Legate Antimus said you need Camp Managers, and, with your approval, we’d be happy to take the jobs.” Manius welcomed them, reviewed their service records with them, talked about Cannae, and hired them on the spot.

  “Centurion Sertorius, you have five days to bring the training site and the two Legionary camps up to standards. Centurion Sentius, I would like you to manage all the other military facilities within our jurisdiction. Tomorrow, about 3,000 new recruits will be arriving from the countryside. I want them placed in one of the old Legion camps. They will be your work force. Have them repair the training site and clean up the camps. Act like this job is permanent, and you have my authorization to order things done.”

  Manius continued, “When the Consul’s staff arrives about November 5th, I will ensure your new jobs are a permanent assignment, if you wish. Sentius, I want you to arrange a meeting for me to address all the people who worked for Durius. I’d like to do that tomorrow at 9:00 A.M. One last item, I notice that the camp is overrun with prostitutes and merchants. I have nothing against them, but I want them confined to the town of Lilybaeum. This area by the ports and warehouses is now off-limits. Be nice about it, but make it clear that they are to remain outside the military area. If fences haven’t been put up, use some of the 3,000 to do it. I suspect there’s been a lot of pilfering going on.”

  Both Centurions nodded vigorously. “Good, it’s done. Go to work; see me if you have any problems, and, above all, keep me informed. You have my full support.” Manius left his office with his two body guards and clerks in tow to visit the hospital, which was under construction. He heard it was fairly large and contained numerous beds, mostly empty. When they arrived, he asked one of the orderlies to take him to the Chief Medical Office. He was led down a long corridor flanked by beds. The closer he got to the Chief’s office, he noticed more beds had patients. The orderly announced the Praetor, and Manius walked in. The doctor was a Greek named Epeius from the town of Syracuse. He stood up and greeted Manius politely. He explained how he had been captured by the Romans after the town fell in 212, and how he now worked for his captors. He said it without rancor and added, “The Romans pay better than the Greeks.”

  Manius stated, “I’d like to talk to some of your patients to assess their future potential to rejoin their Legion and eventually fight.”

  The doctor said, “Follow me. These men have a wide variety of ailments from coughs, to fevers, to diarrhea, and skin problems, but that’s only the half of it.”

  As they walked down the corridor, Manius spotted several men, maybe a dozen or more, with bruised and battered faces. He stopped walking and asked, “What happened to these men?”

  “Fights,” the doctor said. “I’ve got more of them than anything else at the moment.”

  Manius approached the nearest man, “Tell me, Legionary, what happened to your face?”

  The man spoke through a broken tooth, swollen lips, and puffy eyes, “Sir, I was having a few drinks with my pals when these sailors approached us and began swinging clubs. We didn’t stand a chance.”

  “What was the name of the caupona (low class inn)?” asked Manius.

  “Sir, it was a lupanaria (brothel) called Flying Eagle. We go there all the time and never had a problem.”

  The next man told a similar story. “About five of us were at the Anchor House, a respectable caupona, when a bunch of drunken Legionaries walked in and started a fight. We gave as good as we got, but I got the worst of it. If this would have happened at The Helmsmen, I could have understood it. That place is the lowest of the low. We rarely go there. They cheat us soldiers all the time.”

  Manius asked the doctor, “Does this happen frequently?”

  “Every day,” responded the doctor. “More men suffer from fights than real illness. If this keeps up, there won’t be enough soldiers left to fight the Carthaginians.”

  Manius asked him, “With so many empty beds, why are you adding on to the size of the building?”

  The doctor responded, “It wasn’t my decision, but I’ve been told that if, or should I say, when Consul Scipio invades Africa and engages the Carthaginians, these beds will fill up fast enough.”

  Manius left the hospital and walked over to the Guard House. He told the clerk sitting by the door, “Tell the Provost Marshal that Praetor Tullus would like a word with him.” A portly Tribune soon appeared and invited Manius into his office. “Sir, I am Sempronius, the Provost Marshal of Lilybaeum. How may I help you?”

  “I am Praetor Tullus and have been assigned by Consul Scipio to prepare this area to train his troops. I have a letter of authorization signed by Scipio directing the complete cooperation of all forces stationed in western Sicily. I just visited the hospital and have discovered a major impediment to proper troop training and discipline. I want to give you a chance to correct the problem before I take corrective action and report it to the Consul.”

  Sempronius was no fool and was suspicious. “Sir I mean no disrespect, but may I see the letter?” Pittacus smiled as he reached into his folder for the letter. He and Acamus had written language into the letter to deal with just about every possible contingency. He handed the letter to Sempronius who studied it, handed it back to Pittacus and said, “No disrespect sir, but one can’t be too careful. You are indeed authorized by Scipio to take all necessary steps to ensure a proper environment to train his troops. What do you want me to do?”

  “I want you to ride with me to Lilybaeum and show me all the taverns the troops frequent. The hospital is full of soldiers who should be with their Legions, but are too bruised and battered. Everyone that I talked to said the fights occurred at the taverns. I’m planning to place them off-limits until further notice. I expect you to place notices on the doors and guards at the entrances to turn away the Legionaries.”

  “Sir, you know that’s going to cause quite a stink among the owners! You can expect them to be knocking on your door the next morning.”

  The town was only a mile outside the limits of the camp proper. Lilybaeum was a jumble of taverns, brothels, therompolium (food merchants), craftsmen, day laborers, con men, and thugs. As they rode among the twisting streets, they were greeted by prostitutes trying to lure them inside, food vendors hawking their goods, and con men trying to sell them everything from good luck charms to herbal medicine. Cassius and Modius readied themselves for a possible fight. “Is there any tavern you specifically want to see?” asked Sempronius.

  “Yes,” replied Manius. “Show me the Flying Eagle, The Helmsmen, and the Anchor House.” At each place, Manius dismounted and walked inside to look around. The owners stared in disbelief. They had never before seen a Praetor visit their establishments before.

  As they rode the short distance back to camp, Manius told Sempronius, “I want the signs up today, and the guards posted tonight.”

  “Yes sir, it will be done,” said Sempronius. “I might add that I’ve received many complaints about The Helmsmen from my men. They tell me that the owner waters down their drinks, doesn’t pay off gambling debts, and charges high interest rates when he extends credit. I found out that he’s of Carthaginian descent from Panormus (modern Palermo). He says his people have lived here in S
icily for hundreds of years. He’s not particularly fond of Romans, and is always surrounded by five or six unsavory looking body guards.”

  Later that day, Sempronius marched 16 Legionaries and one Centurion to the taverns. He nailed the signs to the doors, and posted eight fully armed men at the entrance to each of the three taverns. Seventeen fresh men replaced them every three hours.

  When the off-duty Legionaries approached the taverns that first night, they were told they are off limits by order of Praetor Tullus. Even the local civilians took their business elsewhere. The taverns were empty and business plummeted.

  The next morning, three angry tavern owners arrived at Manius’ office, and demanded to see the Praetor. Cassius asked Manius how he wanted to handle this. “First, go get the Provost, and when he arrives, show the owners in,” said Manius.

  The tavern owners were irate. They demanded the guards be removed or they would write the Senate in Rome and tell Scipio when he arrived. “Gentlemen, Consul Scipio has authorized me to take all necessary steps to preserve the fighting men of his Legions. Your establishments are reducing his end strength through the numerous and damaging brawls taking place at your taverns on a daily basis. Too many highly skilled Legionaries are now combat ineffective because of those fights. I will give you 10 days to hire men to stop the fights before they start. At the end of the 10 days, I will remove the guards and you can reopen for business. If any Legionaries are injured in your establishments after that, I will have your taverns torn down brick by brick. Is that clear!”

  He then looked at the owner of The Helmsmen. “I’ve heard several reports that you are cheating the Legionaries and charging them exorbitant interest rates on loans. If I hear any more such stories, I will have you flogged and sent back to Panormus.”

  The men walked out cursing and threatening retaliation if Manius ever showed up in their taverns. Manius ignored it, but Cassius did not. As a body guard, Cassius was always fully equipped for battle: helmet, gladius, pugio, shield and pilum. Cassius signaled Modius and said, “Modius, grab your equipment and follow me.”

  They followed the tavern owners outside. Cassius grabbed the one making the threats by the shoulder and spun him around. His fist sunk deeply into his soft puffy face; the man fell backwards hitting the ground hard. “Now your face looks like the faces of our Legionaries in the hospital. Don’t ever threaten my Praetor again!” He drew his gladius out of its scabbard and snapped it expertly down within inches of the man’s throat. “Do I make myself clear?”

  The other two men instinctively drew their daggers from their belts and stood facing Cassius menacingly. Modius assumed an attack position facing the other two men: shield up, gladius protruding alongside the shield with just his helmet and eyes visible above the shield. The two men had never before faced a Legionary in an attack position and instantly stepped back still holding their daggers. “So you want to fight,” yelled Cassius as he raised his shield, crouched behind it, and advanced on the two men. They immediately turned and fled leaving their friend lying on the ground. “Who are you?” demanded Cassius.

  “I own The Helmsmen,” he said while holding his swelling cheek.

  “You’re the one who threatened the Praetor! Get out of here, and you better hope we don’t meet again.”

  “Yes sir,” muttered the frightened man.

  As he walked away, Cassius returned to Manius’ office. “Sir, I think they’ll comply with your demands.” Manius smiled.

  *******

  That evening Manius remembered the poem Flavia had given him the night he left Rome. He rummaged through his bags and found it. As he read it, his eyes filled with tears. It was sweet and innocent, and his lovely daughter had written it for him.

  “To a Great Man and a Wonderful Father

  The one I rarely saw and never knew stood knocking at my door.

  Who are you strange man; mean you life or death, a beginning or an end?

  Life and more, declared the stranger; I bring glad tidings;

  My heart has opened to the infant now grown tall and beautiful

  No longer a child; not quite a woman

  I will love you and guide you, he said.

  I opened the door, just a crack at first, to see if ‘more’ meant ‘more;’

  To my surprise, it wasn’t the Proconsul, Praetor or Legion Legate,

  But Manius, my father, who wanted access to my heart and my life

  Enter, said I, and tell me who you are.

  My list of people I truly love has grown by one during autumn’s waning sun,

  Grandmother, Rivkah, Lucia, Titus, Decima, and you now fill my life and warm my heart

  I now know you and thank the gods”

  Manius put away the poem. He felt lifted and sad. He reached for his papers and a pen. He quickly wrote letters to Lucia, Flavia, and Titus and then extinguished the oil lamp. It was late.

  Early the next morning, Centurion Sentius, his new Facilities Manager, knocked on Manius’ office door. “Sir, I’ve assembled all the people who worked for Durius. They’re waiting in the warehouse. I’ll warn you they’re aware he’s been fired and are more than a little apprehensive as to their own future.”

  “Sentius, do you know where these men are living? Where do they sleep?”

  “Sir, the best I can determine is that they work here all day and sleep in the warehouses, the Legion camps, or basically anywhere they can find a space.”

  “That’s what I was afraid of,” sighed Manius. This is now a military camp and access will be limited to those who work here. At night, I want them out of the camp unless their duties require them to be here. Modius, go get Sempronius for me.”

  Sempronius walked in 10 minutes later expecting to be asked about the taverns. Manius said, “Tribune, this camp is wide open and poses a security risk. I want you to construct a manned entrance for anyone entering and leaving the camp. Prepare a letter authorizing those who work here to enter the camp. Place their names and a seal on it to prevent counterfeits. Once you issue the letters, if an individual without a letter wants access, you will have to approve it and provide an escort as long as that individual is on the camp grounds. Workers will no longer be allowed to remain in the camp at the end of the work day. Conduct periodic sweeps of the warehouses and Legion camps to ensure everyone leaves. You have one week to do this, and now I want you to go with me when I speak to the camp workers. When I conclude my remarks, I want you to explain this new policy to them.”

  Manius walked over to the warehouse. Inside stood about 300 men. Uncertainty hung in the air. Manius introduced himself and said that shortly the Consul and his staff would arrive to begin preparations for an expected invasion of Africa. He explained that the camp was under new management and the old ways have changed. He talked about the new requirements that he envisioned once the Consul was settled in and preparations got underway for the invasion. He concluded his remarks by stating that no one would be fired without provocation. He then introduced Sempronius and walked out.

  Walking back to his office, Manius worked to convince himself of a few things. As the Senior Officer on this side of the island, it’s my responsibility to bring this motley camp up to Roman standards. What I’m doing is right even if it does exceed my authority. It’s my obligation, my duty.

  Later that day, Centurion Sentius informed Manius that the 3,000 volunteer civilians from the countryside were entering the camp. “I’ve positioned some of my men, the same ones you spoke to this morning, to take them to the in-processing station to draw their equipment and then to take them to the Legion camp. Once they’re fed and bedded down, the next step is to use them to clean up the camps and build the training sites. I’ve already told Sertorius that he will get his workers tomorrow.”

  “Does he have a plan on what he wants done and how to get the materials to do it?” asked Manius.

  “Yes sir, we talk every evening about how best to use these men. I think you’ll begin to see results in a few days.”<
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  “Thank you Centurion, keep up the good work.”

  Three days later, on October 14th, Legio V marched into camp led by Legate Quinterius. Manius sat on his horse and watched them arrive. He observed their appearance and conditioning. Quinterius ordered a break in place while he spoke to Manius. “Sir,” said the Legate, “Centurion Sentius has already shown me the site where the Legion will prepare a Legion camp from scratch. He mentioned the two existing camps are substandard and not worthy of Legionaries. My engineers have gone ahead and should already have it laid out.”

  “Well done,” said Manius. “Proceed; I’ll come by later to see how they’re doing.”

  The standard Roman camp with ditch, ramparts, and palisades took anywhere between two to four hours to build. Manius was keen to see how long it would take Legio V. Two hours later, Manius rode up to the camp. It was a beehive of activity with dozens of things going on at the same time. Legate Quinterius rode over to him and said, “I guess another two hours and we’ll start erecting the tents. The boys have been working hard.”

  “I can see that, Legate; please congratulate your men on a job well done. They’ve met the standard.”

  The following day, the process was repeated with Legio VI. They too met the standard, much to Legate Antimus’ satisfaction and relief. Manius was pleased, and also relieved that the men hadn’t forgotten that the fundamental task of a deployed legion is to prepare a defensive encampment for the night.

  On the way to the training site, Manius instructed the two Legates to allow the men three days to rest and clean up before they begin training. When they arrived, they were met by Centurion Sertorius. He saluted Manius and the two Legates and said, “The training site will be open for business in two more days. It was in a sorry state of disrepair, but the local volunteers have worked miracles, and it is nearly complete. The two Legion camps are also almost ready for troop occupancy.” Manius congratulated Sertorius and asked him to stop by his office later that day. He then asked the two Legates to see him tomorrow at 10:00 A.M.