Marching With Caesar - Civil War Read Online Free PDF

distraction for them to slip away. Nevertheless, as proud as we were of Caesar’s skill and fortune, the Pompeians were equally wary of it. Consequently, they determined that they could not just sit and wait for something to happen. That next day passed uneventfully, but during the night, shortly before dawn, we could hear the horns sounding the orders to break camp. Almost at the same moment, Caesar gave his own orders and since we had less to break down, we were ready to move well before the Pompeians. Dawn found us moving off the hill, but this time seemingly back in the direction from which we had come, the cries of joy and the jeers of our foes carrying across the small valley to us. Normally, such calls of cowardice would have been bitter as gall to us, but now we all looked at each other, grinning from ear to ear, thankful that we were too far away for the enemy to see our faces. Once again, Caesar had pulled one over on his enemies.
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    We were not withdrawing, although it looked like we were. Caesar’s scouts had surveyed the ground well, determining that there was a route that would allow us to swing us past the Pompeian camp, thereby putting us directly between them and the defile, through which ran the only passage to the boat bridge. The problem with that route was that it was over extremely difficult ground, littered with small ravines and crumbling fingers of land that oftentimes forced us to clamber hand over hand, with our comrades helping us up the steep sides. Fairly quickly, the Pompeians realized their error, and despite the distance, we could hear the cries of alarm echoing over the hills as they scrambled to cut us off. There began a race of sorts, with Afranius leaving his own baggage behind in camp, with some Cohorts to guard it, beginning a parallel march, creating a plume of dust that contrasted with our own, marking our respective progress. Both sides put everything into the pursuit but Afranius had the added disadvantage of being harried by our cavalry, whereas his own was of such poor quality that he did not even bother sending it at us. Despite the rough terrain, we drew ahead of the Pompeians, arriving at the mouth of the defile gasping for breath and barely able to stand erect, but nonetheless we made ready for Afranius to attack.
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    Afranius obviously knew the folly of trying to force his way through the mouth of the defile, because he halted his men some distance away. For almost a third of a watch, neither side moved, which we were thankful for since it allowed us to catch our breath. Afranius’ problem was that as narrow as the defile was, he could not bring his entire force to bear in an assault, instead being forced to feed his Legions in piecemeal even as they were chewed up. Also in our favor was the fact that so steep were the sides of this narrow canyon that we did not have to worry about anyone trying to swing around to come down on either flank. For that reason, the Pompeian commanders retreated to a nearby small hill to stop and consider their options, which were precious few. Off to their right and to our left was the highest peak in the area, off the shoulder of which ran a ridgeline that, if they could gain that peak, they could then follow all the way down to the confluence of Sicoris and Ibis. From there, it was a short distance to the boat bridge. Accordingly, Afranius ordered about four Cohorts to strip down to just their weapons, in order to give them every possible advantage of speed, sending them in a dash towards the base of the mountain. Now, for a short distance, a man can actually outrun a horse because they start much more quickly. Unfortunately for these men, the distance they had to cover was more than a mile, and even with a head start, they were doomed from the beginning. The moment it became clear what they were about, Caesar sent the cavalry in pursuit. Swinging wide of the main Pompeian force, they fell upon the running Cohorts more than a