Recruit camp, Cisalpine Gaul — Week 11
There was no speech at dawn. Just the horn.And a sharp order:
"Today, you won't fight. Today, you'll form."
The elite group was taken to an open field, marked with lines in the dirt like a giant grid. There were stakes, stones, and red paint marks. At the far end, a bannerless standard stood alone.
The scarred instructor spoke without raising his voice.
"A legion without shape is meat waiting for the axe.Today, you'll learn to be a wall, to turn as a cohort, and to hold together what alone would break you."
They formed into century blocks, eighty men in double lines, shoulder to shoulder. Sextus was in the front rank.
"Shields tight. No light between you. No wind."
The first drill was simple in theory: form, advance, halt, turn as a block, fall back. In practice, it was a storm of shouts, stomps, and sweat.
One poorly timed step broke the line. One misplaced shield opened a deadly gap.
Drusus, ever reckless, surged his line ahead during a maneuver. The instructor didn't yell. He simply struck the ground with his staff.
"If you choose when to attack…the enemy chooses when you die."
They started again.
Next came the rotation of ranks. Every three simulated strikes, the front line would pull back and be replaced by the second. At first it was chaos. Then, a hard, precise dance.
Then came the testudo.
"Cover the sky," the instructor ordered."If I see it, I crush you."
They locked into a tight block—shields to the front, the sides, and overhead.Veterans pelted them with stones and sandbags from atop a platform.
The first time, there were gaps. The second, grunts of pain.The third… they held.
Sextus felt his muscles burn, his knuckles crack. But he didn't move.He sensed Veturius behind him, shielding his back.Atticus to his right, rooted in place.
When it ended, the instructor walked through them.He didn't speak.He simply struck the ground three times with his staff.
In the legion, that was enough.
That night, Sextus looked at his forearms: bruised, dirty, hardened.
But it wasn't just skin forming.It was something deeper.The certainty that they no longer fought as individuals.
Now, they were beginning to move as a legion.