THE BATTLE OF COLICARIA – RIGHT FLANK

OOC: Proposed soundtracks ---> http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=t9jbzbdqQqk
---> http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=bHPYOcgde98

ENJOY! :P



“And so it begins…” Brutus Albinus said silently holding his gladius on the left hand, atop of his war-horse. A horn blew. Then another. Soon thereafter, several war-horns echoed across the valley. “The greatest battle of our time….” Brutus Albinus said under his breath as he witnessed several thousand German crying out a war-cry and then coming running down towards the Roman lines. From their parts, the Romans embraced themselves, tightening up their formations in anticipation for the first wave.

“Steady, men!” Brutus Albinus cried out from his horseback, galloping up and down inside his leather cuirass and attic helmet. It was freezing cold and he could feel his nose, his arms and feet going numb. In front of them, nearly seven thousand Germans were galloping down the valley close by the river’s edge towards the Roman lines while behind the spearhead of Teutonic horses, nearly forty five thousand barbarians came running on foot. As the Teutons closed in, the ground started trembling, causing some distress on the Roman right.

“Don’t heed that, lads!” Brutus Albinus encouraged the soldiers as he saw many moving backwards and forwards in their positions. By that time, the Germans were crossing the three lines of trenches the Romans dug the day before – falling in sharp sticks many of them, the Teutons pushed onwards none the less. Then, the Teutons suddenly stopped their advance; the cavalry was only moving slowly towards the Sixth area of operations but the rest of the Horde had come to a standstill. Guessing why that was so, Brutus Albinus looked uneasily left and right. Perhaps they were waiting for a manoeuvre to be completed before charging? The answer came, unpleasantly, from the sky. As the legionaries were looking intensely on the Germanic foot soldiers waiting four hundred meters away from their positions, a rain of arrows came down at them. Several hundred men fell down immediately before the soldiers could even understood what hit them; several hundred followed them as the second release of the string came down, spreading death.

“TESTUDO! TESTUDO!” the order came from a screaming Brutus Albinus, enraged that the enemy was so cowardly as to attack them from a distance – as if their sheer power of numbers wasn’t enough! Making a ninety with his stallion, Brutus Albinus galloped towards the Sixth legion. The enemy archers were concentrating their fires on them, in an effort to make the landing of the Teutons cavalry easier.

“Each man, protect the brother in front of you!” Brutus Albinus demanded upon reaching close to the Sixth. The men instantly complied, raising their oval shields above their heads. The fire of arrows continued for another minute or two, upon which time the Teutons renewed their assault with new war cries. Lowering their shields again, the soldiers covered the gaps created by the killed; and there where many gaps for the Teutons proved themselves to be excellent archers.

As the chargers closed on the Roman lines, Brutus Albinus raised a hand high in the air. That was the signal for the Triarii of the line to move a few paces forwards and form a shield wall. Eagerly complying, the most veteran soldiers of the three legions assembled on the right flank moved bravely forwards. Halting a few meters later, the Centurions turned their eyes to the single horse, galloping up and down nervously by the presence of so many men. As the Teutons came closer, Brutus Albinus lowered his hand quickly. The Centurions turned then facing the enemy and screamed their orders.

“HASTAE!!!” the Centurions cried and the Triarii promptly lowered their long spears in a defensive stance. “SCUTA!!!” the Centurions cried again and the Triarii pushed their bodies closer, uniting their shields end’s together and so doing, presenting a continuous shield wall to the chargers. At that point, when the Teutons were only a hundred paces away from the first line of the Triarii, the order was given: “LOOOOOSE!”. Hundreds of pila flew towards the oncoming Germans, killing many a foe. Rejoicing for the success, the Principes who were assembled exactly behind the first line of infantry loosened another round of pila upon the enemy.

“STAND TO!” the Centurions yelled their command, mere seconds before the lines clashed. The impact was so heavy upon the smaller Roman force that the Triarii were forced many meters back from their initial position. Soon afterwards, the Germans managed to push inside the Triarii lines and so forcing the veterans to fight with sword and shield. Confusion prevailed throughout the right flank. Men were screaming, falling injured or dead. The Romans were crying out their hatred, stabbing wildly whomever came in their range often fighting back-on-back with another comrade.

Brutus Albinus was galloping between the Fourth and the Sixth in his effort to make his troops last the onslaught. Many a time, he dismounted from his horse to push with his own backs the last Triarius on the line, shouting and screaming to his men to hold their lines. Many a time, Brutus Albinus unsheathed his sword to take a swing on the emerging Germans. The enemy seemed to be limitless! Seeing the danger to the lines of Triarii, Brutus Albinus ordered the Principes into the fight as well. The horn of the cornicer blown and the Roman heavy infantry men came screaming upon their adversaries, their swords swinging while their shields held high.

“WE CAN HOLD THEM MEN! FOR THE LOVE OF ROME, HOLD FIRM!” Brutus Albinus screamed from the back of the Triarii line, somewhere where the Fourth legion was supposed to be; the lines were becoming so confused that no one knew where one legion began and where it ended. Fighting wildly to retain their formations, the Romans held firmly on as the Germans kept pouring in.

As the Hastati filled the gap created in the lines after the Principes charged the foe, the youngest men in the legions unleashed their rounds of pila. Having the enemy pinned down between the river and the Roman centre, the casualties of the bombardment was catastrophic for the enemy, much to the good cheer of the Romans.

The close fight kept going on the first few ranks of the right flank with the Germans being unable to take advantage of their numerical superiority. Closed between the river and the Romans, the lines began to push forwards, stabbing the Germans with hatred. It was a melee; and it was messy. Blood was run at the ground, men fell lifeless with a sword opening on their guts, on their necks, on their bellies. It was a downright massacre.

Then, as Brutus Albinus was fighting once more on horseback close to the Second legion, constantly moving back and forth to spirit the men, he saw him. A German Thane probably, a tall man, his skin the fairest white, his hair golden and long. On his hands was grasped a warhammer, bloodied all over by crushing of human skulls. On his torso there was a silver cuirass and on his neck rested a golden torque depicting a dragon head consuming his tail in a perfect round circle. Looking at his night-time nemesis mesmerised, Brutus Albinus failed to see his tent-mate, Quintus Pompilius Laenatus engaging the German head on.

Quintus Pompilius was a man from a good family, although ill-recognized from the upper circles. Managing to hold the consulship only once, even their nobility was questioned by the most wicked hearted Nobiles. But Quintus Pompilius had managed to get along fine with Lucius Junius for as long as the campaign was lasting and they two were becoming good fiends. It was Quintus Pompilius that greeted Lucius Junius when he arrived in Velitrae, on Consul Zosimus orders, to assemble the legions there. It was Quintus Pompilius that had been Brutus Albinus’ most close confidant on the army’s morale – him, being a military tribune, knew much about the soldiers and their unstable natures. It was Quintus Pompilius that had warned Lucius Junius the previous night to be weary of exiting his tent pale; it was Quintus Pompilius that had asked Lucius Junius if he was scared for the massacre to come.

So, when Brutus Albinus realized that Quintus Pompilius was the one challenging the Teuton Thane, he jumped off his horse at once at run to reach the two combatants. When he got there, the Thane had already given a beating to Quintus Pompilius who was holding his ribs with agony; the warhammer had landed seconds before on his undefended torso, sending him several paces backwards. Holding his side, Quintus Pompilius tried to recollect his courage to attack the German.

“I am Lucius Brutus of the most ancient and sacred Junii. I challenge you to fight me, you wretch!” Brutus Albinus cried out, in a hurry to rescue his friend from dying. When the Teuton seemed distracted by the new adversary, Brutus Albinus waved to Quintus Pompilius to stay well away. “This one is mine, Quintus! Go find yourself another furball to play with!”. Unsheathing his sword and swinging it a few times in a dramatic attempt, the Legate hurled himself towards the Thane. A series of blows landed on shields and cuirasses, unable to penetrate any man’s defences. For several seconds none seemed to back down or tire, both executing fancy sword plays only to be blocked by a move of the shield.

At the same time, the Triarii were slowly giving their place to the Principes as the first cornicer blow was sounded over the valley. At the same time, the Hastati drew their swords and also charged into the fray in an attempt to hold the Germanic advance. The casualties were enormous for both sides, with several hundred bodies laying motionless either as stacks where resistance had been stronger or solo where the single combat was playing out. Blood was beginning to cover the field and sometimes, when trapped between bodies, it reached the hight of the soldier’s angle. Keep fighting on, the air was filled with the three legions eagles; glowing under the pale sun, preparing their claws to rip the foes of Rome.

The cavalry under Teutobod seemed equally harmless, trapped between the hasta of the withdrawing Triarii and the swords of the oncoming Principes and Hastati. The great Teuton King himself seemed to have his hands full, dodging the attacks of separate Romans who risked all in an effort to kill of the enemy leader. The lines by that point were so mixed than no one knew where the enemy forces ended and where the friendly forces begun. Playing out as a huge arena of individual fights, seldom close-packed soldiers against several hundred German invaders, the Roman right held tight.

Brutus Albinus managed to dodge an attack aiming at his throat only with the quickest of thinking, almost luckily avoiding the blow that could have ended many a man’s lives. It has been many seconds that he fought this Germanic Thane.

“I’ve often wondered how it would be to fight against you, German, but your fighting skills are not even close on being impressive. I am very disappointed.”

The two opponents once again charged at each other, hitting each other with fury. Brutus Albinus tried to pass his sword and either cut the German on the calf, thus immobilizing him for the kill or succeed a direct kill by cutting in the neck. The German’s actions though weren’t clear as he landed blows in a frenzy. “Is that the best that you can do?” Brutus Albinus asked again as he was separated by a few paces from his enemy. Taking a few breaths, the combatants once again attacked each other, their energy beginning to wane with every passing moment.

Suddenly, an opening was presented to Brutus Albinus. The enemy was too tired to wave about his enormous shield and was beginning to leave opened his stomach; a hit there could be fatal but Brutus Albinus thought the better of it; after all, in his vision he died after he had stabbed the enemy in the belly. Bidding his time for the next time the German Thane would leave his belly opened, Brutus Albinus stroke with no mercy. Hitting the man in the opened stomach with his shield, he forced his enormous adversary to fold his body in two. Then, he run the gladius through his throat, holding the Thane’s head with his left hand. The lifeless body of the enemy hit the ground thereafter and Brutus Albinus closed his eyes and lifted up his arms amidst the cheering of his soldiers. No horrible sound; nothing. The only thing he felt was the pain from a sword wound he had received in the left shoulder an hour or so earlier, not to deep to disable his arm and not so cold yet to not being able to use it.

As the last men of the Germans were being pushed back, the Romans remained in a field filled with the body of the dead.

“Reform!” Brutus Albinus ordered. At that point the runner reached him; the left flank and the centre was routed already and Consul Zosimus had ordered a general retreat to the Roman camp.

“Sound the withdrawal!” Brutus Albinus ordered disheartened. As the horns were sounded and the soldiers turned their heads in curiosity, Brutus Albinus cried out for all to hear him. “I just got word. Our left flank is gone, the centre is routing. Consul Zosimus orders us to retreat at once to the camp. Soldiers! It was an honour and a pleasure leading you; and I am sorry we could not do better. But we must look to ourselves now; we must save our skins and live to fight another day. We march to the camp! Double time, all of you!” he cried, mounting his war-horse.

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ORDERS:

Brutus will follow the orders and withdraw with all four legions to safety, towards the Roman camp. The XXI legion is to remain further back and close on the river to protect the rest three legions as they retreat.

CASUALTIES:

Roman: 4760 KIA, 3740 wounded, missing 176
That's about an 80% casualty rate.

German Casualties:
3176 KIA 6672 wounded 1868 missing/buggered off

REMAINING FORCE:

- Heavy Infantry: 5674 Unarmored: 2379