Torrents of Fire

No, Historian, no. I was never so important. I was a soldier of Rome and nothing more. I served twenty-six years, and then I retired here, by the Thames, to live out my days.

That is true, but unlike my friends I do not find the events extraordinary. Circumstances arose. I did my work and nothing more. What has happened is that time has magnified events through the eyes of men who were not on the ground, and thus a legend is manufactured. I was merely a soldier once; I served Rome and tried to do my duty.

That is correct. In the beginning we were in Pannonia, keeping the hill tribes in check. I had joined the legion twenty years before, grown up in it, fought all my campaigns in its ranks, and been promoted to Primus pilus two years before Aulus Plautius became legate. While I served in its ranks, Aulus Plautius was the best commander Legio ix had. He was bold without being brash, brave without being foolhardy, and intelligent in the highest degree. Rome must have trusted him, for she gave him the order to invade Britannia, and in the third year of Emperor Claudius's reign we marched north to Gesoriacum where Plautius took supreme command of four legions, embarked them, and handled them like a master.

Indeed we went ashore at Rutupiae. But the report that we met heavy resistance is false. On the beach we met no resistance whatsoever, and we advanced to the Medway without incident. Caractacus, king of the warlike Catuvellauni, gave us battle on the Medway, but Aulus Plautius outmaneuvered him, throwing Vespasian and the whole of Legio ii around the enemy's southern flank in the middle of the night. The next morning, while we held Caractacus's attention on the banks of the Medway, Legio ii emerged unseen from the cover of a wood and struck hard from the south. Indeed the Brits disintegrated when Vespasian hit them, and we spent the remainder of the day pursuing their remnants to where Londinium now stands.

No, Historian, I would not call that extraordinary; I would call it duty. My Lord, remember, commanded four legions on the Medway, so his attention had to be divided. To ease his burden, he merely ordered me to take tactical control of Legio ix during the engagement, and I did. But he never relinquished command of us. I knew his mind, so I deployed the legion according to his methods. It is true that I fought at the forefront. That is no more than any Primus pilus would have done and no more than I had done before in Pannonia. Myth should not overtake truth on that subject. A Roman line of battle cannot be directed from the rear. Legionnaires must be able to see who is leading them.

Yes, at Londinium we halted and waited several days for the emperor's arrival. I saw him and found him imposing. He brought with him several cohorts of the Praetorian Guard, but those men did not represent Rome at her best. They were arrogant, grasping, intent on the acquisition of loot, and not combat ready. When we advanced on Camulodunum, they insisted on marching in the van, on horseback, so all four legions had to march over the elephantine piles of dung that they left in our path. This amused them, and they were unstinting in their insults. Once we arrived before the great earthen defensive dikes that protected the Catuvellauni capital, the emperor took nominal command in the field, my Lord Aulus Plautius advising, and then the Praetorians insisted on leading the attack. In the strongest terms but without offending the emperor, Aulus Plautius advised against using the mounted Praetorians as our spearhead, but the Praetorian commander had influence with the emperor. He had his way and launched our assault, and then, quickly, the Praetorian Guard very nearly carried the emperor into a disaster.

The problem had to do with bees. Yes, bees. Whether the Catuvellauni had placed their hives across that plain in order to improve their honey or whether...