7 AD
Dalmatia
The hole
The waiting.
The burning sun. Thirst.
The constant demand from the officers to remain vigilant. To be ready.
Someone within the ranks grumbled to himself out loud. His comrades heard him. “By Jupiter’s hot piss! Waiting here in the trenches killed more men than facing a hoard of screaming Gauls with only a bread knife in one’s hand! Where’s the f*****g enemy?”
`And the debate started. Like a ravaging plague, it swept through the ranks. Huddled down in hastily dug trenches, shields partially protecting them from any random arrows falling from the heavens, the entire legion rank and file participated in the debate. How many hours could a man take waiting for an enemy to make an appearance? Had any legionnaire ever died of old age while waiting like this? In a tw
