Legio XVII: Battle of Zama (5 page)

“Daddy you should; I would love to hear them,” she said.  “I’ve written a lot of poems, but they’re mostly personal.”

“I would appreciate hearing some of them.”

Lucia interjected, “Maybe after dinner just the two of you could go to the peristylium (courtyard) and Flavia could read a few.”

“They’re silly; daddy wouldn’t like them.”

Manius could sense that he was connecting with his daughter and said, “Seriously, I would love to hear what you’ve written.”

“Well, alright, but promise you won’t laugh.”

After dinner, Manius took a seat in the courtyard, and a servant brought a fresh cup of diluted wine.  He settled back in his comfortable chair and waited for Flavia to get her papers.  When she came back and was seated, she spent the next few minutes telling him how horrible the poems were before finally reading them.  Initially, she kept looking up to see her father’s reaction.  He nodded and would occasionally say, “That line is really good; go on.”  His heart was singing.  He and Flavia were communicating!  She read everything she had ever written, and they would talk about each one when she finished.  Manius felt he had gained more insight into his young daughter in these 30 minutes than he’d gotten in the last 16 years.

When she stopped reading, she hugged him and left to go to bed.  She, too, felt happy that her father was paying attention to her and had gotten to know her at a much deeper level.  Manius would never again talk to her as he would a child.  Flavia was a sensitive, intelligent, somewhat insecure young lady.  He decided that he not only loved her; he actually liked her.

*******

The next day, Acamus and Pittacus were waiting for him when he walked into his office.  “You two look particularly pleased with yourselves.  What did you find out?”

“I went to Campus Martius, as you suggested,” reported Acamus, “and dropped your name.  They still consider you one of the gods.  I met with the Commandant; he said to give you his greeting, and then gave me complete access to all their files.  After digging through stacks of papers for most of the day, I finally found the list of Cannae survivors you asked for.”  He was beaming from ear to ear and felt justifiably proud of himself.  He put the stack of papers on Manius’ desk.

“Well done!” said Manius.  “I can’t believe no one threw them away.  It must have taken you hours to find these.”

“It did,” replied Acamus, “but I like a challenge.  Sir, Pittacus has the information you wanted on Sicily.”

Sicily (
Google Maps)

Pittacus began reading from his notes, “Sicily is 1.9 miles off the coast of Italy at its narrowest and 3.2 miles at its widest.  The island is about 155 miles (250km) wide and 175 miles (280km) long.  Aetna (modern Mt. Etna) is located on the northeast side of the island and dominates the landscape.  It’s 10,922 feet (3,329m) high and has erupted in 425, 396, and 350 BC.  We are long overdue for another.  The island is occupied primarily by farmers who supply the grain to our two Legions.”

“The Legions in Sicily are spread out in small garrisons on the west coast from Drepana (modern Trapani) in the north to Mazar (modern Mazara Del Vallo) in the south, a distance of about 50 miles.  Their mission is to guard against Carthaginian raiders.  I hear that they are conducting limited training and are in reasonable physical shape.”

“The primary port from which to launch an invasion of Africa is Lilybaeum (modern Marsala).  But I am not sure that’s where Scipio plans to put his headquarters.  It’s about 140 miles (225km) from Lilybaeum to Carthage by sea.  I would suggest that any training camp you construct be situated near Lilybaeum.”

“The weather in Sicily is cooler than you’d expect:

January and February’s high is the same at about 55F,

March is 59, April 64, May 72, June 77, July 84, August 84, September 79, October 72,

Nov 64, and December 57.  That means that when you arrive it should be between 72F and 79F (21C-17C).  Sir that concludes my report on Sicily.  Do you have any questions?”

“Yes, how can I get the two of you assigned to my staff?!”  Acamus and Pittacus both laughed.  Pittacus said, “Talk to our boss, Tribune Velius.  I think he’d let us go for this short mission.”

“I will,” declared Manius, “and thank you both for your excellent staff work.  Before you go, I have one more request.  Yesterday, I drafted a letter for the Chief’s signature authorizing me to take charge of training the two Legions in Sicily.  Even though I outrank the two Legates, I am not their Commander, and they may not fully cooperate with me.  Would you please look it over, and give me your thoughts.”  He handed the letter to Acamus.

After they left the room, Manius took out the roster of Cannae survivors.  As he glanced at the pages, memories of the battle, his wounds, recovery, and painful yet joyous trip back to Rome flooded his mind.  He leaned back in his chair, stared into space, and let his mind wander.  Anger, sadness, happiness, and relief filled his brain.  Conflicting emotions smashed into one another creating an intense feeling of uncertainty and fear.  He shook his head, took a deep breath, and began to study the document.  He put a question mark next to the names of those men over 40 years and an X next to those over 45.  He recognized many of the names and wondered how they were doing.

As he was finishing, the Legionary clerk stepped into the room.  “Sir, here’s the list you dictated yesterday of the 10 tasks to do once you arrive in Sicily.”  Manius quickly looked it over, thanked the soldier, and dismissed him.

As Manius prepared to leave for the day, Acamus walked in.  “Sir we’ve looked over your letter for the Chief’s signature and have several recommendations.”  Pittacus was a few steps behind him and was holding a piece of paper.  “Sir, with all due respects, the Chief carries no weight whatsoever with the Legates in Sicily.  Only the staff here listens to him.  The two Legates will only obey orders from the Consul himself.  He has to sign the letter if you want to get any cooperation.  Another point, you need to spell out specifically the authorizations you are seeking.  If you want to direct the Legates to march their Legions 20 miles to assess their physical condition, say it directly in the letter.  We’ve taken the liberty to prepare a draft letter for Scipio’s signature that is much more directive.  After you look it over, we’ll be happy to make any changes you want.”  Manius thanked them and said he would look it over that night.

*******

When Manius got home, Titus had the fishing gear all ready and was anxiously looking forward to fishing in the Tiber with his father.  After a short walk, the two sat on the bank, baited their hooks, and threw out their lines.  Manius bought a few minnows from a vendor, and soon the first fish hit Titus’ line.  Manius let him pull it in, but offered suggestions the whole time: “slow down, don’t jerk the pole, nice and easy.”  He wanted to just grab the pole and do it himself, but held back.  Titus was thrilled, and Manius didn’t want to ruin the moment.  Titus caught a nice bream, then a chub, and finally two carp.  Manius caught three bream.  It was a good day.  The two talked and got reacquainted.  Back home, the servants took the fish promising to cook them up for tonight’s meal.  Manius later found out that the servants had prepared another meal, but quickly changed plans to accommodate Titus.

During dinner, Titus was immensely proud that everyone was eating the fish he had caught.  He kept asking everyone, “Do you like it?”  Flavia was much more talkative than previous nights.  Without his prompting, she told her father what she had done that day and wanted him to hear a new poem she had written.  Lucia was thrilled seeing that a warm relationship was forming between the man and the daughter she loved.  After dinner, Manius listened to the new poem and told Flavia how impressed he was that she could put into writing how she viewed relationships, herself, and the world around her.  Lucia was even invited to hear this poem.  Titus went about the business of a 14 year old, which was a little of everything.

When Flavia left the room, Manius retrieved the draft letter the clerks had written and read it to Lucia.  “That’s very direct and to the point,” she said.  “Who will sign it?”

“It’s prepared for Scipio’s signature, but I don’t know if he’ll actually agree to all this.  The letter gives me the authority of a Consul concerning all aspects of Legionary training to include managing the surrounding facilities.”

“I guess it all depends on how strongly he feels about you being the one to train the two Legions,” she said.  “If he plans to take them to Africa to face the Carthaginians, he probably will sign it, but, I’m curious, why can’t he just use the Legions he had in Spain?”

“Those veterans now belong to new Commanders who are still fighting the Iberians.  It’s not like facing Hasdrubal or Mago, but the Commanders have their hands full,” Manius replied.

The next day, Manius greeted the two clerks as he walked into his office.  “I read the letter last night and will buy you both a bottle of good wine if Scipio actually signs it.  It’s a great letter, but I can’t believe he will give me all that authority.”

Acamus said, “Sir, I’ll take your wager on the wine,” and disappeared with the letter in hand.  Manius went outside to walk around.  This was causing him more stress than he anticipated.

One hour later, Acamus returned with the letter in his hand.  Manius looked at him expectantly.  Acamus’ face showed disappointment, and he slowly shook his head from side to side.  Manius said, “I didn’t think he would sign it, but thanks for trying.”

“Sir!” said Acamus, “you owe me a bottle of wine, and I’ll even tell you the brand I like.”  He was all smiles.  “He signed it alright.  In fact, the Consul even wrote stronger language in the margin,” and handed the letter to Manius.  Manius looked at the Consul’s note: ‘Praetor Tullus speaks for me concerning all matters related to training and camp management.  Non-compliance will result in dismissal.’  And there it was at the bottom, “P. C. Scipio, Consul.”  Manius grinned from ear to ear and couldn’t thank the clerks enough.

He walked out of his office to see Velius.  Velius read the letter and whistled.  “Sir, Consul Scipio obviously has great faith in you.  Is there anything I can do to help?”

“As a matter of fact, there is.  Lend me those two geniuses, Acamus and Pittacus, until I complete this assignment.”

“Sir, those are my two best men!  If I give them to you, what am I going to do?”

“Here’s how I see it,” explained Manius.  “We’re both tasked with basically the same assignment: training troops for Consul’s invasion of Africa.  I am more than happy to take the lead, and fold your organization with its manpower, reach, and influence into my effort.  You’re a member of Scipio’s staff; I am not.  You can keep me connected to the overall effort, and warn me of any politics going on within the Staff that may influence our mission.”

“Now that you put it like that, I’ll release them to you.  I really don’t have a choice.  Even if I went to the Chief, I’d lose the fight.  They can sail with you on the 27th if they’re willing.  I have to reiterate, they are civilians.  I’ll miss them, but we’ll manage.  I am always being told that no one is indispensable.”

“By the way,” said Manius, “when do you plan to arrive in Sicily?”

“The entire staff is scheduled to sail on October 27.  The Consul will sail 10 days later and arrive about November 18th.  The Advance Party left about a month ago along with the 500 Legionaries that the Consul managed to bring back from Spain.”

Manius thanked Velius, and went out to buy the two bottles of expensive wine he promised to Acamus and Pittacus.

On the 25th, the two Legionary aides assigned to Manius by the Chief appeared at his office.  One was a veteran Centurion named Cassius with 20 years in the Army; the other, Modius, was a strong looking man in his mid-20s.  “Sir, we’ve completed travel arrangements for you and for your two clerks.  I can give you the details whenever it’s convenient.”  Manius pointed to the two chairs.  “Sir, we will accompany you every step of the way.  We will hire and pay the porters, procure your food, and serve as body guards.  Those docks at Ostia can be pretty rough.”