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Authors: Geoff Fabron

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He had been in command for over a year
and knew the layout of the fort like the back of his hand. When he looked at
the architects drawing of Fort Claudius he did not see just black lines on a
white sheet of paper, he saw the dimly lit underground corridors that connected
the bunkers and defence lines. He knew the view from each firing position and
the location and density of every minefield. From his command centre Drusus was
in telephone contact with every bunker, defence point and gun position in the
fort. He could direct artillery and mortar fire upon any attack and call up
reinforcements from the infantry waiting in reserve deep below ground. Every
part of the fort was protected by reinforced concrete, every approach covered
by machine rifles.

Quintus Drusus almost wished that the
Saxons would launch an attack. Their infantry would be cut down by the machine
rifle positions, their landships would be immobilised by the mines and
obstacles, while their guns would barely chip the concrete of his fort.

The confident smirk on the fort
commanders’ face disappeared as a deafening roar filled the air in the control
centre knocking everyone to the ground and showering the room with plaster from
the ceiling. Drusus lay on the floor dazed for a few seconds. He thought that
one of the magazines had exploded, but then there was another explosion and
then shortly after that another one, each about 45 seconds apart and Drusus
realised that they were under bombardment by heavy artillery.

The force of the explosions surprised
Drusus. All the fort commanders had been assured that the Saxons did not
possess any large calibre siege guns. He made his way to the observation post
above the command centre, pushing dazed and confused members of his staff aside
as he went.

As he got to the top of the stairs he
was nearly knocked back down again by another explosion, but managed to grasp
hold of the railing that lined the stair well. He looked out of the narrow
slits and could see enormous craters that had been left by the shelling. He
could see one close to a bunker of the inner defence perimeter and was shocked
to see a number of large cracks in the bunkers concrete wall.

He heard a noise behind him and turned
to see his adjutant, red faced and covered in plaster dust.

"What's happening!" he asked
in a voice that betrayed his anxiety.

Another shell landed and they both
ducked below the level of the observation slits.

"The Saxons have got hold of some
siege guns from somewhere," said Drusus as they both squatted on the
floor. "There's no way that their field artillery could do this kind of
damage."

"We've lost contact with some of
the bunkers, the telephone lines must have been broken" said the adjutant,
"and the senior centurion reports difficulty in keeping the reserve units
calm and under control."

Drusus could imagine the fear of the
men below ground. The explosions, tremors and plaster cracks beginning to
appear in the ceiling. The thought of being buried alive could cause even the
toughest veterans to panic.

"Bring them up to the bunker
levels," ordered Drusus, "and distribute them around the
defences." He knew that they would be no safer there, but if they panicked
it could affect the entire garrison.

A red glow and blast of hot air
followed the next explosion. The two men looked out of the observation slit to
see a small hill nearby engulfed in flames.

"They've hit one of the gun
positions," said Drusus with resignation. He now knew that he could not
hold the fort for long. The Saxons would systematically destroy each part of
the defences until there was nothing left to defend.

They made their way down to the command
post. His staff was shocked by the change in their commander. He was a broken
man. He looked at the diagram of the fortress - his fortress - and felt both
sadness and anger.

"If we get out of this
alive," he said to the adjutant in a trembling voice, "I'll kill
those desk bound pricks in military intelligence!"

 

From a railway siding in the forest on
the Saxon side of the Rhine, an artillery officer ordered an adjustment to the
elevation of the next gun in his battery to fire. It had been three days since
the Saxons troops had crossed the frontier, but it had taken time to organise a
telephone link from the guns to the forward artillery observers. The observers
reported back to the gun position the results of each shell that they fired.
Slowly, but methodically each fort would be blasted until it either surrendered
or could be taken by assault.

A group of sweating and swearing
sailors passed the artillery officer with a trolley containing one of the huge
shells that fed the guns pointing across the Rhine. The guns were the same as
those mounted on the battleships of the Royal Saxon Navy with a range of nearly
seventeen miles and a calibre twice that of the largest field gun in the army.
Their delayed fuse, armour piecing shells were perfect for the job of
destroying the Empires vaunted Trajan line.

 

 

6
th
August 1920

Outside
Mogunticum

 

“Advance! Advance!” Tribune Johannes
Strausman pointed his sword towards the barricade of felled trees blocking the
road ahead. A couple of hundred Saxon infantry from his regiment emerged from
the woods and from behind a collection of cottages and charged forward.

A volley of shots rang out from behind
the barricade and a few of the attackers fell but the rest came resolutely on.
Then the air was filled with the staccato sound of a machine rifle – its
regular beat clear above the individual shooting of the men at the barricade.
Entire groups of Saxons were knocked over by the heavy rounds and the rest
quickly went to ground or found what cover they could,

Tribune Strausman took up position
behind a tree and carefully surveyed the enemy position. The machine rifle was
set up on a rise a few yards behind and to the right of the barricade giving it
a clear field of fire. He looked back towards the cottages and located the
regiment’s artillery support officer who had been waiting for instructions from
him. A few brief hand signals were all that was needed and the artillery
officer disappeared. Strausman called to his men to remain where they were and
keep under cover.

A short time later there was a loud
whistling noise followed by an explosion close by the barricades. More
explosions followed until one hit close to the machine rifle position and its
deadly fire ceased. Strausman signalled back to cease fire and then called out
to his men again.

“Advance!”, and once again the Saxons
rose and charged the barricade, this time quickly overrunning it, killing or
taking prisoner most of the Imperial troops there.

In the relative quiet following the
fight Tribune Strausman looked over the battlefield. Medics were checking over
the fallen and engineers were dismantling the barricade as other Saxon units
started up the road to find the next Imperial position. Strausman’s men sat or
stood beside the road smoking, having a drink or talking quietly to comrades.
They had done their bit for now and would have a break to reform and draw more
ammunition.

‘Another fight, a few more miles,
another dozen casualties’, Strausman spoke to the world around him as he took a
deep drag on the cigar he had just lit, the strong pungent aroma helping to
mask some of the more odious smells around.

‘The big question is will the Romans run
out of miles before we run out of men.’

 

 

7th
August 1920

Rhine
Army Headquarters, Augusta Treverorum

 

The war was into its fifth day before
Cornelius was invited to an army level briefing. Silvanus Anemas had finally
managed to get him added to the rolls as a military intelligence officer. The
peregrini had been in a panic since the attack, seeing Saxon spies and
infiltrators everywhere, and had been reticent to approve somebody who had just
arrived from Minden. However the new army commander had overruled the head of
security, and had confirmed Cornelius in both rank and position.

Cornelius had just taken his seat in
the auditorium when, along with everyone else, he had to rise again as
Marcellus Comnenus entered. He watched the new army commander make his way to
the podium. Cornelius noted that he looked fitter than most of the appointees
from Constantinople. He was smartly dressed but did not adorn his uniform with
decorations which had been awarded for pushing papers and kissing the correct
backsides. He had an air of authority that did not depend upon any badge of
rank and Cornelius thought that in assassinating Manual Dikouros, the Saxons
may have done the Empire an unexpected service.

Marcellus Comnenus greeted everyone and
indicated that they should take their seats.

"The most important development in
the last twenty four hours," he began, getting down to business straight
away, "has been the loss of a number of key fortresses of the Trajan
line."

There were some exclamations of shock
at this news. Everybody had expected the forts to hold for at least two weeks.

"The few reports that we have
managed to receive," continued Comnenus ignoring the noise, "indicate
that the Saxons have been using converted navy battleship guns to reduce the
forts. The effect of this is that the main roads and rail lines out of Colonia
Agrippina, Confluentes and Moguntiacum are no longer interdicted by these
fortresses and are free to be used by the Saxons."

Cornelius nodded as he made notes. The
use of naval guns had been a brilliant piece of improvisation by the Saxons and
he cursed himself for not tying it up with the unexplained gun production. The
plans that he had stolen only referred to 'special artillery' units based along
the Rhine. In fact after three or four days studying the Saxon plans, Cornelius
was quite disappointed with what he had risked his life for. Although there was
a mass of data, it did not actually tell him what the Saxon strategy was. It
had orders of battle, mobilisation schedules and supply requirements but no
operational plans. No lists of targets or key dates. Given time he could work
out the most likely Saxon strategy, but time was something that he did not have
much of.

After his introduction and summary,
Comnenus handed the podium over to Alexius Cabasila, the chief of staff who
continued with the briefing. He moved away from the podium to a large map of
the frontier.

"The main Saxon armies are
concentrated around Colonia Agrippina and Moguntiacum," he began,
"with a smaller force at Argentoratum. There have been some attacks near
Vetera, but they have not crossed the lower Rhine in strength north of the Ruhr
river. The legio I Germanica are about twenty-five miles outside Colonia
Agrippina holding the road to Aduatuca."

He paused before moving his pointer to
indicate the area around the city of Augusta Treverorum. "The legio IV
Macedonia is dug in fifteen miles outside this city across the road to
Moguntiacum. To our south the legio I Trajana is slowly withdrawing from
Argentoratum towards Divodurum. The Saxons are between Augusta Treverorum and
Moguntiacum cutting off the legio XV Primogenia which has been driven out of Moguntiacum
towards Noviomagus and is danger of being destroyed."

Again there was unhappy murmuring from
the officers present many of whom had friends with the XV Primogenia.

"In order to save the
fifteenth," said Cabasila raising his voice above the noise, "an
offensive has been planned and will begin the day after tomorrow."

That got everybody's attention.
Cornelius had heard rumours about the attack but had not been involved in
planning it. Alexius Cabasila had been appointed by Manual Dikouros and had shared
the late army commanders’ disdain of the intelligence section.

"The legio XIV Gemina is moving to
a position south of Augusta Treverorum and will be joined by a number of
auxiliary armoured motor carriage cohorts, an auxilia palatina regiment and the
X Cataphract Landship Regiment. This force will counter-attack towards
Moguntiacum, relieve the fifteenth legion and drive the Saxons back over the
Rhine."

There was some excitement amongst the
audience at the prospect of going on to the offensive, but Cornelius did not
share it. The legio XIV Gemina was the army reserve and had been positioned to
back up his uncles legion to the north. He stood up and indicated that he had
something to say.

"What's being done to contain the
Saxon army that is massed around Colonia Agrippina?"

"The Saxons to our north are
advancing very slowly, Cornelius Petronius," replied Cabasila
condescendingly. "Your uncle is doing a very good job of holding them
up."

"With respect sir," said
Cornelius, "I think that we should find out more about those forces.
According to our information there are twice as many Saxons across the Rhine at
Colonia Agrippina than there are at Moguntiacum."

Alexius Cabasila looked irritated by
these questions. "The orders for the attack have already been drafted. If
the Saxons do have more troops to the north then why haven't they made more
progress there?"

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