“Renna’s men are coming!” Joergensen shouted. In fact, the heavy steps of more legionaries who had reached the harbor was clearly audible. Reinforcement for the more or less overwhelmed comrades lying on the ground who had to watch the hustle and bustle of the mobs helplessly.
The priests didn’t care. Motivated by the loud screams of their ringleaders, they manned the boats and tried to move them. Few seemed to have experience with seafaring, but when Renna’s men finally starting to engage away the protesters, after all half a dozen small sailing and rowing boats had already left the pier and moved with well over 60 priests on board toward the Saarbrücken .
“We need to avoid a fight,” Köhler urged. “They are totally fanatical. But if we have to defend ourselves …”
“We cannot use the guns,” the second officer objected. “The attackers are too close, the angle of inclination is too low. We have to gain distance.”
“The machines are cold, you have heard Dahms,” said von Klasewitz. “We shouldn’t kill any of them. They are men of the church, probably misguided in their beliefs through demagoguery. We can’t harm them.”
Köhler looked down at the slowly approaching boats. “They have no real weapons,” he said soberly. “And they have nothing with which they could climb up the railing. If I may make the suggestion, we let them just come and drum their fists against the steel as long as they want.”
Von Klasewitz looked surprised at Köhler, as if he could not comprehend that the NCO could actually have a clever idea, but the officer immediately recognized the elegance of Köhler’s proposal.
“Pull the men from the railing, we don’t want to unnecessarily provoke the priests!” Joergensen commanded.
Quick execution of his order followed. When the first two fishing boats scraped with their hulls against the Saarbrücken , the officers looked at the spectacle from the bridge, where they had quite a nice view. They heard the furious clamor of the attackers, as they noted in their despair that there was no way for them to climb up on the smooth metal hull of the cruiser. The clamor grew louder as the other boats approached and the desperate attackers apparently started yelling at each other for the stupidity of their plan. It took about ten minutes, then even the most fanatical of them had realized that all this came to nothing. When, finally, the cruiser began to tremble and Dahms had brought the machine in motion, they gave up. They didn’t know that the Saarbrücken still wouldn’t be able to move for some time, because it took a long while until the machines were ready. Uttering threats, the fanatics rowed the boats back to the pier where they were received by Renna’s men. With relief, the Germans realized that the Roman authorities had regained full control of the port facilities. Although a considerable crowd had gathered, there didn’t seem to be any intention of violent action against the more than 200 armed men. The trellis of spears brought into position by which the legionaries held everyone in check certainly encouraged a good degree of restraint at this point.
“I think we can return,” von Klasewitz finally said, and Joergensen immediately gave the corresponding commands. To bring the drifting Saarbrücken back to the pier wasn’t a particularly easy task, though, and required some maneuvering and a good measure of manpower.
Von Klasewitz seemed lost in thought for some minutes, but then he apparently had made a decision.
“Joergensen, I want a meeting of all the officers in the mess hall,” he said. “This incident has shown us how precarious our situation is at the moment. It is necessary to make some decisions.”
“Yes – but Captain Rheinberg has enjoined us to judge these people according to the time they live in, and we shouldn’t –”
“Captain Rheinberg has made his decisions, and this led him to the court of the Emperor,” von Klasewitz interrupted sharply. “And he’s not here. I’m in charge, and I command now. This incidence must not be repeated, it endangers the safety of ship and crew. There we surely agree, right?”
“Of course.”
“Very well. All this wouldn’t have happened if Rheinberg would have taken time to consider the prevalent religious feelings. But all is not lost yet, and we can correct this error. So, all officers in the mess hall. I guess I’ll have to talk to the Roman commander now, but then we should draw our own conclusions from this disaster!”
Von Klasewitz stalked off the bridge. Joergensen looked thoughtfully after the first officer. He exchanged a quick glance with Langenhagen, who hadn’t said a word.
“What is he up to?” the lieutenant murmured finally.
“I really don’t know,” was the answer of his comrade. “But somehow I don’t like the tone of it. Leading up to something.”
“Can we send a message to the captain?”
“What good would that do? Sure, we can do that, but until we have an answer it might take weeks. No, we wait, what Klasewitz intends, and then we’ll see if it’s insane or merely annoying.”
“Officially he is still a hostage.”
Joergensen grinned weakly. “I don’t think the Romans want him any longer. In addition, the Saarbrücken has returned, and he would’ve come back anyway in the course of the day – though perhaps not quite at this speed …”
5
On foot, on horses, in donkey carts and a truck, around 200 German soldiers, 500 Roman legionaries – a strange procession. The men groaned, especially when marching became strenuous, and there was evidence that the legionaries were quite able to outpace their German comrades. Things turned even more depressing once the infantrymen were put on horses. Aside from the few who were able to ride, and those fewer who were blessed with a natural talent, this evolved into a disaster. But Becker was at least as merciless as a sullen Roman centurion, and Arbogast seemed to find this approach likeable. The German officer saw benefits in the exercise, not least because by this the Romans and time travelers had developed a bond that would otherwise hardly come about. Although the Roman cavalry made their jokes about the German comrades, the shared hardship and the fact that the Roman officers as well as the German shouted their orders alike, regardless of their origin, certainly did its own. It helped also to show those Romans who have been intimidated by the weapon demonstration that the time travelers didn’t otherwise possess any superpowers.
They followed a Roman military road south, which would eventually take them to the Via Egnatia, the lifeline of the Eastern Empire. Roman military roads were quite different from modern streets and didn’t follow the diversity of the countryside, like leading around hills and mountains and meandering along rivers. Roman military roads were a beautiful symbol of how Rome had governed over the centuries and became strong against all odds: They stood straight and followed miles without any change in direction, ignoring hills and rivers and forests and swamps – all sorts of obstacles were cleared by generations of tireless road builders out of the way through digging, bridges, drainage and any other available means. Roman military roads led directly to the target, and their determination was inherent in their structure. Non-military travelers were very happy to use them as well, but they served primarily the sole purpose to bring Roman troops quickly and effectively from one place to the next. And the mode of transportation was above all marching, marching and marching.
Not that this has been completely foreign for Becker and his men. They were foot soldiers, and as soon as a man wore the uniform of the emperor, he marched. But this was obvious: the further away from Sirmium, the greater the admiration of the Germans for the perseverance and discipline with which the Roman legionaries marched. A well-trained and well-rested legionary could cover 20 Roman miles a day, as Becker and his men were informed, the rough equivalent of 30 kilometers. In former times, legions, however, have been larger and somewhat unwieldy units, and only the reforms of the late Emperor Diocletian had made them relatively smaller troops.
Becker rode at the head of the column, along with Arbogast and the legate of the legion, an officer named Marcus Tullius Secratus. He was a taciturn young man
who had recently been promoted to that rank, and at least Arbogast seemed to think highly of him, because he himself had chosen him and his men specifically for this task.
Africanus, who wasn’t too happy to continue his service at land and not at sea, had received his emperor’s thanks and the subsequent order to continue to remain with Rheinberg as a kind of liaison officer, a promotion he had accepted with mixed feelings. Becker was forced to come to terms with his new comrade. Perhaps this was also the quite a wholesome jump into the cold water and to simply test their new collaboration. The true probation but would be their first joint campaign. Deeds were usually more convincing than words. Becker assumed that their own losses and injuries during a military engagement would keep within very narrow limits. He always had been of the opinion that it was his job to help the enemy to die for his country, instead of having the honor himself. With the Goths, he had to admit, it was a bit more problematic, since they had lost their home and were actually set out to find a new one.
The march to the east brought more things to light than Becker actually would have expected. The longer the two units marched or rode, the more the officers mixed. And although the infantry of Rome and the German Empire was divided by many centuries, the common soldier recognized despite all the problems of understanding that they shared the lot of all infantrymen: sore feet, too heavy a bundle on one’s back, irritated officers, too short breaks, too little wine and too little sleep. Becker saw it with joy, while Arbogast seemed to regard it rather with suspicion: But from this shared experience mutual understanding and friendship developed. And in the evening, when the camp was established, the dice were brought forth, and the Germans were just as quick to understand the game as the Romans were eager to learn how to play Skat . And the commonly enjoyed ration of wine – so bad that swill might be – helped to establish a mutual agreement between the men. Finally, there were Roman decurios and optios and German sergeants who patrolled the campfires together with a stern face, scrutinizing the soldiers, probably unanimous in their inner lament about a rebellious recruits, inexperienced braggarts and incorrigible drunks. Here, too, quickly a silent understanding developed that was based on the common belief that without commissioned officers the army would only be of little value, but also that most officers wouldn’t even find their ass without help after darkfall.
So many things fell into place, and Becker was extremely happy about it.
When they reached Greece after several days of marching, they received a messenger send by Flavius Victor, who still resided in Thessaloniki according to their latest information. He appeared to come to the conclusion to better stay in Thessaloniki instead of traveling to Sirmium and probably had to trust that Richomer, who had joined them on their trip, would do and say the right thing. Becker had quickly developed a particularly good rapport with the squat, sometimes quite sarcastic German cavalry officer. Richomer was about his age, and his views on the losing battle against the Goths and the basic military problems of the empire coincided largely with those who Becker and Rheinberg had been hotly debating all night long. Becker was more and more of the opinion that the Roman Empire in the West didn’t fail because no one had recognized the problems and weaknesses, but because many wrong decisions had been made at the wrong time and with misguided priorities. This was evident in the tragic death of Valens, even if he had otherwise not been an impressive emperor; his religious policy had remained fairly tolerant and had thus incurred the wrath of the Western church hierarchy. The fact that Rheinberg wanted to discuss all these things was also the reason that he had remained in the camp of the Emperor. He had discussed with Becker to move the Saarbrücken once the exact collection point for the troops was known. Now he had to know that the new army was formed in Thessaloniki, which was easy to reach for the cruiser.
Becker hoped he would be able to provide Theodosius, the new commanders of the East, with a fait accompli . The fewer the chances for the talented Spaniard to prove himself, the higher the probability that Gratian wouldn’t elevate him to the Emperor of the East.
The messenger of Flavius Victor brought quite welcome news as Richomer had sent him several messages to alert him to the Germans’ arrival. The information about the historical developments proved to be reasonably reliable, although the intervention of the Germans began to leave their mark: Instead of waiting for the arrival of Theodosius, Arbogast had given orders to avoid the Goths and to reform the remaining troops in the vicinity of Thessaloniki. That did also happen in reality, according to Rheinberg, but only much later. The Goths themselves had left the area around Adrianople and were now invading Greece, a long, disorganized trek that rampaged through the country and deliberately evaded major cities, since the Gothic leadership knew well that they only could overcome significant fortifications by treachery and nothings else. So far, no traitor had been found, therefore the invaders had to focus on rural areas. Since this had an impact on the supply situation of the cities, it was already bad enough.
According to plan, the two Roman units and the German infantrymen were by now on their way toward the Thessaloniki venue.
In the evening, Becker, Arbogast, Richomer and Secratus sat around the campfire to discuss the strategy.
“I need a battlefield to which we can lure the Goths,” Becker started. “We should already convey our ideas to Victor so that he can mentally prepare.”
“What kind of battlefield exactly? And what role should the legions play?” Secratus wanted to know.
“Decoys. Take no offense, but we cannot send the demoralized remnants of the eastern army into a real battle. They should pretend to offer a fight and then retreat to a prepared position. This position will subsequently allow my men to fight the mass of the Gothic warriors with our weapons from elevated positions. Or we will make digging trenches, and after the legionaries have reached safety, we open fire from there. More likely, since we meet at a city well-fortified, we find proper positions in the fortifications.”
“Trenches?”
Becker took a parchment and began to draw the principle of a trench onto the sheet. “These positions provide optimum coverage for my men and are at the same time a good position for our attack. It would, of course, be fatal if the Goths storm the trenches, therefore we will need your legions as a shield. But I assume that it will not happen. If we position the MG s tactically, especially on the walls of the city, the Goths will suffer hundreds, even thousands of deaths in a very short time and will be completely demoralized. It’s not our goal to exterminate the enemy but to allow us to dictate a peace on Roman conditions.”
Arbogast nodded. “So it is. If Fritigern and Alaric see that their men are taken by an invisible force, they must accept an offer of talks. I have authority to negotiate for the Emperor as Theodosius won’t arrive in time. We want clear conditions: The Goths get the promised settlement area, but there will be no status as allies; they have to submit to Roman rule completely. We need the Goths for what is coming.”
He threw Becker to a meaningful look. Rheinberg and the captain had drawn a haunting and realistic picture in regard to the impending invasion of the Huns and the attacks of the Vandals and other tribes. The empire had to prepare, and it also had to be able to exist without the machine guns of the Germans, because the ammunition would probably already be in short supply after this battle against the Goths.
“So an area that looks like a good battleground for the Goths. It can be a bit steep in their favor. I need hills or cliffs overlooking the terrain within two to three Roman miles – or I just need the city walls. There I will position our machine guns. There must be no obstacles in the line of fire; we need a completely free field for all MG s. We must be able to fire over the heads of the retreating legions.”
Richomer frowned, as the tactical concepts, foreign to him, began to form in his mind. “I don’t know the area particularly well; I’ve been operating almost exclusively in the West. We must rely on Victor’s expertise. Nevertheless, as far as I know,
the whole area is consistently hilly in Greece. There are valleys and plains, but I am very confident that we will find a position that meets your needs, Legate Becker.”
Becker stifled a reaction to the title by which Richomer addressed him. A legate was normally a legion commander and the subordinate officers of his were tribunes. These were mostly very young men who had entered the service from the nobility or knighthood. Men in Becker’s age usually had long since left this rank behind if successful. They normally held the office of a Dux and were responsible for an entire province. That he had been addressed with the rank of legate was connected to the fact that the Roman comrades felt the need to classify everyone correctly. Moreover, Rheinberg had introduced him with that rank, and therefore he had to accept it.
Sooner or later, they had to fit into the Roman military structure if they were to be integrated into the empire. Becker was not quite sure which rank corresponded to that of Rheinberg. Trierarch Africanus might be a ship commander, but Becker had gotten the impression that he was regarded by many fellow officers as not more than a sergeant. Probably Rheinberg would be made navarch, somewhere between squadron commander and admiral. Köhler would surely become a centurion. Becker smiled. Centurion Köhler, that had something. Or were they called differently in the navy? There were moments when Becker was very grateful for being a simple infantryman.
“Well, we’re waiting for the helpful hints of Victor,” he agreed. “But we should write down our ideas and send them ahead by messenger. Swift action is needed. Each day on which the Goths continue marauding through the country will weaken the empire and increase the suffering of the population.”
The Emperor's Men 2: Betrayal Page 5