Legio XVII: Battle of Zama (2 page)

Chapter I:  Battle of Ilipa 206 BC

Ilipa (modern Alcala del Rio) is10 miles north of Seville and 122 miles (197km) north of Gibraltar

(Google maps)

The Centurions moved from tent to tent quietly rousing their sleeping men.  “Wake up, cook your meal, and be ready to march in two hours.  Keep your fires low and no noise.”  This had been the routine for the Legionaries for the past three days, but today the wakeup call was not sounded by trumpets and it was only 3:30 A.M. instead of 5:30 A.M.  The men looked at each other knowingly as they moved quietly and efficiently about their routine.  One man started the fire while another mixed the water and wheat.  The rest assisted one another in adjusting their armor.  They knew today was going to be different.

Yesterday, they were told to put a fresh edge on their swords, replace any missing hobnails on their sandals, and fill their water skins.  “Lights out” was called at 8:30 P.M.

For the last three days, they had marched out of camp to face the veteran Carthaginian Army across the large, dry, dusty plain of Ilipa. The Roman Commander, Proconsul Publius Cornelius Scipio, did not vary his formation.  He always placed his heavy Roman Legions in the center of his line in a triplex acies and his Celtiberian allies on the two flanks.  Half a mile away, the Carthaginian Commanders, Hasdrubal Gisco and Mago Barca, put their experienced Carthaginians in the center and their weaker Celtiberian mercenaries on their flanks to face their countrymen.

Both Armies had their most experienced troops in the center.  The 32 Carthaginian war elephants were placed in front of the first line.  A few of them had a wooden box strapped to their backs with crenellated towers to protect the four or five javelin throwers inside the box.  After watching each other for most of the day, the two large armies would turnabout and march back into their respective camps.

The temperature was a balmy 73F degrees (22C) during the day and dropped into the low 50s (11C) at night.  The Legionaries were comfortable.  While they stood facing the Carthaginians, the men were allowed to drink, urinate in place, move a foot in all directions, and talk in low voices.  They rested their heavy shields and pila on the ground.  Sick men stayed at camp, and those with diarrhea were given permission to walk to the rear of the formation to relieve themselves.  By the third day, the troops were complaining among themselves and wished they were walking or fighting instead of simply standing.

If a Legionary passed out, no one moved until the Centurion checked the man and assigned two men to take him to the rear.  Once he recovered, he was questioned to determine what he had eaten, how much water he had drunk, what time he went to bed, and if he was flexing his legs or standing too rigid.  Usually, a man passed out because he was standing too stiffly and not flexing his knees.  For that, he would be reprimanded and sent back to the camp to recover.

Each day, the Legionaries quickly scanned the enemy lines to see if the elephants were in their attack position in front of the first line.  They always preceded the Carthaginian army out of their fort, and the army followed.  These large beasts were known to plow through Maniples like a scythe through standing wheat.  They were more feared than a cavalry charge, and were almost unstoppable.  Stories of charging elephants with dozens of pila sticking in them with no apparent effect spread among the men.  They also frightened the cavalry’s horses and thwarted many a charge.

During the afternoon of the third day, after the Legions had marched back into camp, Scipio’s trumpets sounded the call for his Legates to assemble.  The meeting tent was spacious and easily accommodated the Commanders and their aides.  Other than camp stools, maps, and a few small field tables, a visitor would never guess that this was the tent of Rome’s most successful General.  Proconsul Scipio was an intelligent Commander who didn’t believe in a lot of pomp.

It was common knowledge among his Legionaries that at the young age of 17, Scipio led a successful cavalry charge to rescue his father at the Battle of Ticinus (modern Vigevano, Italy) in 218 BC.  He went on to participate in the battles of Trebbia, Lake Trasimene, and Cannae.  In 211 BC, at just 24 years old, the Senate elected Scipio Proconsul of Spain.  He assumed command of all Roman Armies in Spain after his beloved father and uncle were killed fighting Hasdrubal Barca, Hannibal’s brother.  It was also common knowledge that when Scipio heard that his father had been killed, he wept uncontrollably for days.  But rather than seen as a sign of weakness, this story enhanced his reputation and endeared him to his troops.

When the Commanders were seated, an aide pushed aside the privacy flap of Scipio’s adjacent tent and informed him that the Legates were assembled.  The Proconsul stepped into the tent with a rarely seen yet guarded smile on his face. His smile accentuated his strong aquiline nose, high cheek bones, and perfect teeth.

“Gentlemen,” he said, as the smile faded and his normal gravitas returned. “Tomorrow we attack!  It’s clear to me that Hasdrubal and Mago are matching our troop formation and will not expect us to change ours.  I want to deploy the Legions on the flanks and our allied Celtiberians in the center.  I expect our Legionaries to crush the enemy Celtiberians facing them and then to attack Hasdrubal’s center.  I will hold back our Celtiberians from attacking Hasdrubal’s center until we’ve destroyed his flanks.”

“We can’t allow Hasdrubal to see our new formation until it’s too late for him to adjust his formation to match ours; therefore, tomorrow morning we will march out of camp in the dark at 5:30 A.M.  My intent is to cause his army to panic and rush out of the fort before the elephants can be deployed, and before his men have a chance to eat breakfast.”

“At first light, our cavalry will attack his cavalry and our skirmishers will attack his flanks.”  Turning to his Celtiberian Commander, Scipio said, “You must hold your men back until I give the order for you to attack the center.  If you fail to hold your men back, our entire plan is in jeopardy.  Do you understand?”

The Commander responded, “Yes sir, we will wait for your signal and then make you proud of us.”

Scipio added, “Commanders, I expect this information to remain in this tent.  You may inform your Centurions, but no one else.  I’ve instructed the Praefectus Castorum, (Camp Commandant) to post additional guards around the camp to prevent anyone from wandering off.”

That evening, the Proconsul walked among his troops checking to see if they had eaten, had received their pay, and had any complaints that he could resolve.  Occasionally, he would beseech the gods to protect a particular Maniple to bolster their courage.  He had a reputation as a pious man, and the men respected that.  As he passed a group of men, a Legionary stood up and said to him, “Sir, we would appreciate it if you would ask the gods to protect us from the elephants.  There’s just no easy way to kill those beasts.”

Scipio looked at him, reached out, and put his hand on his shoulder.  “I know they can be frightening and they don’t go down easy.”  He then looked at the other men standing by the fire.  “If my plan works, you and your comrades won’t have to worry about elephants.  Listen to your Centurion and follow orders.  You’ll be fine.”

He then walked the short distance to the Celtiberian camp and talked and listened to those men.

Scipio was well aware that as the Commander his job was to plan the battle, but these men did the killing.  Without their willing and enthusiastic support, all his carefully laid plans would result in defeat.  Therefore, he always paid the greatest care to their food supply, pay, and morale.  Without them, he could do nothing.  He fought for Rome’s interests in the Mediterranean, to avenge the death of his father, and for his personal career.  These men fought for one another and their Commanders.  They expected intelligent leadership, to be fed regularly, and to receive their monthly pay.

Two years earlier, Proconsul Scipio faced three highly capable enemy Commanders: Mago, Hasdrubal Barca, and Hasdrubal Gisco.  Fortunately for Rome, the three were feuding among themselves and had failed to unite their Armies to oppose him.

In early 208 BC, Scipio went after Hasdrubal Barca who was encamped by the River Baetis (modern Guadalquivir 150 miles (241km) northeast of Seville) in south-central Spain.  Despite Hasdrubal’s strong defensive position on a plateau, Scipio successfully routed the Carthaginians by attacking Hasdrubal’s flanks.  The Carthaginians suffered 6,000 killed and 10,000 captured.  Scipio’s men suffered 2,000 killed.  Despite this victory Hasdrubal managed to escape with all his elephants, baggage, and most of his troops.  He travelled north after the battle and eventually entered northern Italy in a failed attempt to link up with Hannibal.

Scipio learned a valuable lesson from this fight with Hasdrubal; if the enemy escapes with most of his fighting men intact, it’s not really a victory.  The enemy may have scattered, but they can just as easily reform to fight again.  Additionally, he was severely criticized back in Rome for failing to follow up his initial victory.

His objective in this current battle at Ilipa was to kill or capture as many Carthaginians and Celtiberians as possible in the initial attack, and then prevent any survivors from escaping.

The next morning, at precisely 5:30 A.M., the gates of the two Roman camps opened and about 50,000 men silently marched out.  Once outside, the Legates and Centurions rearranged the formation as directed by Scipio the day before.  The Roman Legions were placed on the two flanks and the Celtiberians were stacked in the middle.  After about 30 minutes, this huge army was ready and advanced in the dark towards the sleeping Carthaginian camp half a mile away.  Scipio, his aides, and bodyguards rode at the rear of the formation.  The Legion Legates led their men from the front as did the Centurions.  Emotions varied among the men.  Some were frightened, while others were relieved to begin what they had nervously anticipated for days.  Their confidence grew with each step when they began to hear the growing Carthaginian chaos.  Scipio’s words about the elephants the previous night had spread throughout the camps like a promised blessing from the gods.  The omens were good.

Each night, both sides sent men out into the field between the two camps to provide early warning of an attack or raid.  The Roman and Carthaginian outposts were separated from each other by about 400 yards, and were rotated every two hours.  It was difficult to sit on the ground in total darkness with all senses functioning at maximum capacity.  The men would alert at the smallest sound, and the adrenaline would flow.  They held their swords in their hands and took off their helmets in order to better hear.  It was nerve-wracking.

The nights were full of sounds from scurrying mice to lizards chasing crickets.  Besides worrying about the enemy sneaking up on them, they all feared the hated snub-nose viper.  Rumors abounded of men who had been bitten and died within hours.  The best sound for a sentry was when he heard someone approaching from the direction of his camp whispering the password for the night.  New guards were told to walk in a certain direction and count their steps.  When they counted off the correct number, they were to begin whispering the password and listening for the correct response.

This day, the Roman outposts heard the sounds of their men coming out of camp and forming up.  As instructed, they waited until the noise quieted down and went back on the run to join their Maniple.

The Roman cavalry and light troops went ahead in the dark and scattered the Carthaginian outposts who jumped up and ran in the direction of their camp. It sounded to them like the entire Roman Army was on the move, and that’s what they began shouting as they approached the gate.  Their panicky cry was picked up by the sentries on the wall. “Romans are attacking!” they shouted for all the camp to hear.

The sleeping men heard the shouting and jumped up.  Some thought the Romans were inside the camp and simply grabbed their swords and went out to fight for their lives.  Others took the time to put on their helmets and armor before running out.  It was dark.  Fires had not yet been lit.  No one could see, and everyone was yelling instructions.  Men were running in all directions.  The gates were suddenly opened, and leaders began shouting to be heard above the din. “Get outside and form up.  Run!  The Romans are attacking!”  It was chaotic as everyone rushed the gates at the same time.

The elephant handlers felt the same panic and spread it to their elephants.  Their trumpeting added to the general noise and confusion.  They were tightly chained to stout posts set firmly in the ground, but wouldn’t stand still for the fighting boxes to be mounted on their backs.

When the Romans were about halfway to the enemy camp, the Carthaginians began pouring out of their camp.  They were completely surprised by Scipio’s early morning maneuver.  Men armed themselves, but had no time to eat.  Once outside their camp, the 55,000-man Carthaginian army assumed the same formation they had used for the previous three days, which is what Scipio hoped they would do.  Scipio’s strong and experienced Roman Legions now stood opposite Hasdrubal’s more inexperienced Celtiberians.  The elephants were nowhere to be seen and the men were greatly relieved.