caldrail

Bill is here. The remnant of Hurricane Bill is currently passing across the coast of Scotland on its way to Norway bringing wet and windy weather to the the rainforests of Darkest Wiltshire. Actually it's not too bad. I did get caught in a shower yesterday - an occupational hazard of living in Britain - but that left me slightly damp, not soaked. Compared to what's going on in the big wide world, my encounter with a few raindrops means nothing... The news is full of the usual tragedy and strife that makes current events such interesting viewing if somewhat shocking and depressing on occaision. Headlines reveal a great deal. Ted Kennedy taking the secret of Chappaquiddick to his grave, a doctor arrested on homicide charges over Michael Jacksons untimely demise, a sharp rise in jobless British households, a five year old child shot dead with an air rifle in Wiltshire, crowds of football hooligans fighting each other at Upton Park in London, a young lady so upset about her exam results that she stabbed her boyfriend to death, another man stabbed after answering a hoax advert, thugs attack a ninety year old woman, and even James May's attempt to create the longest toy train journey ever was disrupted by vandals nicking track sections or short circuiting the bits left behind with coins. Not so long ago a christian woman was trying to make a hard sell of her religion. I've no doubt she had some ulterior motive to improve her sects headcount at services - perhaps I'm a little cynical? - but at one point she asked me in an attempt to pierce my spiritualist armour "Don't you think human beings are special?" Personally, I think all too often Human Beings are bad news. Good News of the Week Sometimes you have to wonder at the mentality of television program makers. Take Big Brother for instance. Take a dozen assorted wierdo's and hopeless cases, put them in a socially isolated house, and watch every single thing they do, for entertainment. Why on earth would any sensible, well adjusted, fulfilled human being waste their time as a fly on the wall to these people? To some extent it's marketing of course, but the problem with that is once the novelty wears off viewers lose interest, and they have done exactly that. So much disinterest in fact that Big Brother is to be axed. Good news at last.

Possibly, but then why didn't that always happen? But even more interestinglym why didn't armies fighting each other with phalanxes employ javeliners and slingers to achieve the same result?

My parcel from the States should be due any day now. I'll be glad when it gets here, so I can restore my PC to it's former glory. The hassle of course is making yourself available to sign for the delivery when it finally arrives. Past experience has shown that parcels mysteriously vanish from the doorstep, and on occaision, a naughty delivery driver took the parcel away and signed my name for it. In the meantime, what has the postman brought me today? Lets see... One letter. From the delivery people no less. That has to be about my order. It is! It seems that HM Customs & Excise want VAT paid on it (that's a sort of purchase tax, if anyone out there doesn't know) and the delivery company want a fee for handling it through customs. There's an option to pay by phone which is quick and convenient, so I'll try that.... It was of course an automated system. Key in your thirteen digit delivery code... Now.... Okedokee. That worked. Your postcode is SN1... Is that correct? Press 1 for Yes, or.... Yes yes yes, it's correct. Key in your credit card number... Now.... Right then. 1234 5678 9012 3456.... Key in your credit card number... Now.... What? Again? Oh all right then... 1234 5678 9012 3456.... Key in your credit card number... Now.... What is this? Some sort of game? Get to the next level and receive your parcel? Oh I give up, I'll pay them online this afternoon, assuming the delivery company has mastered the World Wide Web. In case anyone was wondering how expensive life in Britain is these days, it cost me ten pounds to have a small parcel sent three thousand miles across the Atlantic. It's going to cost me twice that to send it thirty miles from Bristol. Recipe Of The Week As a single guy, I have to cook for myself. No, that's not a sexist lament, I do enjoy cooking as long as it doesn't take more than twenty minutes. I've got no time for complex recipes nor for that matter the wallet to afford obscure ingredients, and even cheap stuff from the supermarket costs twice what it did a couple of years ago - government please note. Occaisionally though I come up with a real gem... Try this recipe at home... Irish Pasta Cook sliced meat (lamb works nicely) in an oven and place on a plate. Open a tin of irish stew and empty into a suacepan. Add a touch of brown sauce and pepper sauce. Stir. Heat gently. Pour sauce over meat. Heat a saucepan of pasta. Twirls or tubes work best (sorry, don't know the italian names), place on top of the plate, and sprinkle coarse pepper if required. It tastes great, it really does.

And if constrained by terrain? Or unable to outflank a larger army using phalanxes?

Every so often I get asked which team I support. The question of course always applies to football, or more specifically, soccer, but the questioner assumes you already know that and that you follow the results with an encyclopedic knowledge of every individual involved in the game. I have to say that sport as a whole fails to move me. Fine if you're actually playing it, when it becomes a contest between teams or individuals concerned, but to cheer from the sidelines always seems a bit like pornography to me. You're supposed to get excited watching someone else do it. Last night I sat down to watch the evening news. Let's find out what's going on out there.... I hardly needed to read the headlines scrolling across the bottom of the screen. Yes, England beat Australia at Cricket. I already know, I heard the yobboes chanting victory songs all the way up the road. I'd like to think that sort of celebration will keep them busy and out of trouble, but you just know it won't. So England won the Ashes eh? Well that's a matter of world shaking significance isn't it? Commiseration to the Aussies but if it's any consolation, I shan't be gloating because I just don't care. Partly that's because cricket is a game that bores me completely, but mostly because it's expected that I should be interested, and that gets up my nose. The second question I get asked every so often is... So what sport are you interested in?... Well... Walking home yesterday through a well-to-do area I heard a householder open his garage. A few moments later, the raucous sound of a powerful erupted into life. It was of course a Ferrari, a gleaming red 360, and the noise was unmistakeable. He went off for a Sunday drive with the engine appealing to him to floor the throttle. What a sound! I get goosebumps just thinking about it. The answer to life, universe, and sport is therefore motor racing. And no, I don't follow it. But it sure is fun indulging in a passion once in a while isn't it? When you can afford to of course. For now I shall have to sit on the sidelines, and watch the bright red machine growl away into the distance. Sheer *or*. Cat of the Week Of course it isn't just cars that people use to display wealth and status. Even domestic pets can be used as designer labels. The recent trend toward purpose bred pets isn't something I think is particularly desirable, but sometimes you get the impression that some supposedly pedigree breeds are no more than a fancy label. Ever heard of a Belgian Leopard Cat? Well, one household of my acquaintance has, though I think they meant Bengal Leopard Cat, and the slightly disagreeable animal has already destroyed their furniture. I guess sometimes keeping a fancy pet requires a little more wealth than expected.

On hearing that Lucius Caecilius Metellus and other politicians were at the point of surrender, Scipio gathered with his followers and stormed into the meeting, where at sword-point he forced all present to swear that they would continue in faithful service to Rome. Fortunately, the Roman Senate was of like mind and refused to entertain thoughts of peace despite the great losses Rome had taken in the war

What a lovely morning! The sun is shining, the drunks are sleeping it off in police cells, and the library has resumed a quiet mood as we all sit down and log on to pursue our various browsing needs. Logging on first thing in the morning isn't a hassle any more either. AM has vanished... what? Has he actually gone South Africa? Or has he succumbed to old age?... I actually miss his verbal presence even if he was a complete scoundrel. Not like yesterday of course. IHaving left some time unused I popped back in the aftermnoon to finish off with some research on World War two aircraft - That's another hobby of mine and one dating back to my childhood. Like many others the catalogue of Airfix plastic kits was the gateway to my youthful imagination as I flew these little aeroplanes complete with scale lumps of badly applied glue in my mind. Of course my imaginary war was nothing like close to reality, but I didn't know that then. Anyway, the booking screen was offline. Oh that's a good start. The lady on the helpdesk apologised over the phone to someone else about the lack of facility whilst I pateiently waited for the same reason. Once her phone call had terminated with a final apology, she enquired what I wanted then apologised to me for the same reason. Nonetheless, she did manage to book me a PC on her administrator system. Middle floor, at the far end, a place of busy teenage interaction that I had avoided up until now. I would like to thank the young boy sat on my right the other side of the partition. His constant commentary on his progress through the computer game he was playing certainly grabbed my attention. He was only about seven or eight years old, but showed his experience and appreciation of the computer game genre when he said "This game should be boring but I find it strangely appealing". Personally, I think his parents should buy him a baseball cap and teach him to wear it at a strange angle before he grows up to be a geek. He is, after all, very annoying already. The rest of the teenage crowd was also annoying. One lad performed a monotonous drum solo on his desk, a couple of girls were doing girly things with mobile phones, and one lad was giving the world the benefit of his experience of street survival. I've got another twenty minutes of this.... I'm in Hell.... Virtual Fun of the Week Okay, I admit it, I occaisionally play computer games. Yesterday was Grand Theft Auto: San Andreas, a sort of surreal simulation of gangs in 90's LA. Despite the ammoral game content (Stealing cars, shooting policemen, spraying graffiti everywhere, and racking up crime statistics the Kray Brothers could only dream of - and yes, you can also pull prostitutes if you... I'll stop there) it really is good fun. However, I decided to pop in to the Ten Green Bottles bar up the road from my virtual home, and made for the pool table, a game within a game. Over the course of the contest, I won twenty six thousand dollars from some street hoodlum. Did LA gangsters really have that sort of cash in their pockets of an evening? Or is this computer game not quite true to life?

Over the last few days there's been a flatbed lorry parked partially on the pavement during the day whilst it's crew of workmen barricade the pavement off and dig shallow trenches. Nothing unusual there. If there's one one thing to say about Swindon, it has holes in it. Given how unreliable the electricity supply was becoming it's no wonder they dug a few more. But hang on a moment... What is going on? Now the trench has been filled in the workmen left two upright grey metal poles standing in the pavement. For the moment, there's nothing fixed to them, but seeing as they're located at the end of the new trench I can assume that something electrical will be placed there. The two poles form a wonderful obstacle for drunks meandering up and down the street. Do they get electrocuted too? Oh I wish... Bump In The Night In the early hours of this morning I was woken by a loud noise. It wasn't likely to be the offices across the road. They're all boarded now. I couldn't see anything untoward out the back of the house, and wondered in some late night reveller had collided with the poles down the road. However, as I left the house to visit the library this morning I spotted a pile of scrap wooden boards and old carpets dumped in next doors front yard. If that had been my yard, blood would be boiling. For now, I can only sympathise.

During an interview in 1966, John Lennon expressed his opinion that Christianity was dying and that the Beatles were more popular than Jesus. Not in South America it seems because they banned airplay of their albums until 1971. Nor was the American 'Bible Belt' particularly impressed. Their records still sell even today and whilst their popularity as a band may have faded compared to that of Jesus, we still have a legacy of music to enjoy. It's interesting to study the way their image was presented. On the one hand, they were that loveable bunch of 'mopheads' having harmless fun, on the other sex symbols, and I once saw an early video clip showing Ringo Starr in soft focus with a cigarette hanging out his mouth. Hilarious. Not just music either, because the Beatles also made feature films. In 1968 they made Yellow Submarine, an animated cartoon story, in which the characters voices were not those of the band (who only make an appearance right at the end as a cameo). I've always had a soft spot for Yellow Submarine. Not sure why, because it's not the psychedelic cartoon style, nor for that matter the subliminal message about the recreational use of drugs. There's already a computer game in the works (if not already released, but I'm not interested and computer games are always released two years late due to one reason or another) that will allow the player to relive the Beatles as a virtual band experience. This seems to be a growing genre in it's own right. Some musicians have complained that such games are alternatives to learning real instruments and working music as a career for real, something I find a little odd, because no-one is going to be famous stood playing air guitar in front of their monitor screens. I must admit, I do find that genre uncomfortable, but in my case it's because it reinforces a fantasy in a vulnerable minority who might believe that they too can be famous and don't realise how disappointing the 'real world' can be. Now I hear that Disney is to remake the film using modern animation techniques. The first version was awful but got away with it because of sheer optimism. Will this one recapture the same madcap mood? It will certainly capture some dollars. Tantrum of the Week This accolade goes to the Spanish gentleman who was unsatisfied with the snacks he was served with. Despite the bar staff telling him to calm down, he proceeded to smash bottles, glasses, chairs, or anything else that came to hand. Now there's a gentleman who needs to chill. I would recommend watching Yellow Submarine. Relax, enjoy the cartoon. Chill. But he'll probably only complain it's not the Disney version and destroy his television...

Some survivors of the disaster who had escaped from the battle or from captivity, described how this was the spot where the officers fell, how yonder the eagles were captured, where Varus was pierced by his first wound, where too by the stroke of his own ill-starred hand he found for himself death. Annals (Tacitus)

I wonder? What wonderful communications has the postman brought me today? Let's see.... Two rejection letters from employers (I barely read them now), a glossy pamphlet offering two pizzas for the price of one (I always thought they were a tad expensive), and a couple of the local community newsletters that keep me in touch with the latest developments in and around my home. Big news today then is Queens Park, a little refuge of tranquility just around the corner from where I live. Not so tranquil any more it seems. The Council had decided not to bother locking it up at night to save money, and inevitably the sudden increase in anti-social behaviour has made them rethink that false economy. The vandals and druggies are going to look for somewhere else to reduce to urban ruin then. I heard one last night getting upset about something. Was that the alcohol talking? A few days ago I caught the tail end of a television program about alcohol and violence in Britain. It focused on one troublesome area and all looked hauntingly familiar. The talking heads interviewed expressly condemned cheap alcohol as the cause of violence, pointing at the phenomenon of pub 'Happy Hours' and bargain deals of various potent brews available in pubs and clubs. Funny thing is, I think they missed the point. It isn't alcohol to blame at all, but the people who drink it. Okay, a bloke tanked up on several pints probably isn't going to be particularly rational, but then, they knew full well they were going to get drunk (and violent) before they set out of an evening. Now whereas the availability of alcohol is making things worse - I can't disagree there - is a sober society really going to abolish these violent tendencies? Urban Learning and Leisure In another U-turn the council have decided to leave the Old Town library open after all. There's been quite an outcry from those who use the small and and unassuming premises. Perhaps if they leave it open, the vandals and druggies will have somewhere to go? Perhaps not. The Shape of U-Turns To Come There's another change in Council policy looming, this one over car park charges. Recently they doubled prices and inevitably aggrieved citizens and visitors are complaining about paying up more. The cost of parking a car in Swindon hasn't been cheap for some time because the Council wanted to persuade drivers to park on the edge of town and get a bus to complete their journey (I don't know about you, but don't you think that rather defeat the object of owning a motor car in the first place?) but two of those Park & Ride schemes are closing soon, through lack interest. Surely not?

Soldiers, all of whom were six feet tall (which I assume is Roman measurement - that would make them at least five feet nine inches in ours - Romans had an average height of a modern five feet four inches). Given they were raw recruits, intemnded more for display than fighting prowess, one shouldn't be suprised that they faded from history rather quickly.

I need a memory upgrade. Since I'm in the mood to correct my errors, here's some details on Nero's interests in Chariot racing... From his earliest years he had a special passion for horses and talked constantly about the games in the Circus, though he was forbidden to do so. Once when he was lamenting with his fellow pupils the fate of a charioteer of the "Greens," who was dragged by his horses, and his preceptor scolded him, he told a lie and pretended that he was talking of Hector. At the beginning of his reign he used to play every day with ivory chariots on a board, and he came from the country to all the games, even the most insignificant, at first secretly, and then so openly that no one doubted that he would be in Rome on that particular day. He made no secret of his wish to have the number of prizes increased, and in consequence more races were added and the performance was continued to a late hour, while the managers of the troupes no longer thought it worth while to produce their drivers at all except for a full day's racing. He soon longed to drive a chariot himself and even to show himself frequently to the public; so after a trial exhibition in his gardens before his slaves and the dregs of the populace, he gave all an opportunity of seeing him in the Circus Maximus, one of his freedmen dropping the napkin from the place usually occupied by the magistrates... ...He also drove a chariot in many places, at Olympia even a ten-horse team, although in one of his own poems he had criticised Mithridates for just that thing. But after he had been thrown from the car and put back in it, he was unable to hold out and gave up before the end of the course; but he received the crown just the same.... Life of Nero (Suetonius) Although Nero is described lamenting a 'Green' charioteers death, that doesn't mean he supported that faction - but it is a possible indicator. And some extra info from Wikipedia.... For some reason I thought it was Nero who formed the extra two teams. Whoops... I apologise for that He had such enthusiasm for the horse-races that he actually decorated the famous race-horses that had passed their prime with the regular street costume for men and honoured them with gifts of money for their feed. Thereupon the horsebreeders and charioteers, encouraged by this enthusiasm on his part, proceeded to treat both the praetors and the consuls with great insolence; and Aulus Fabricius, with praetor, finding them unwilling to take part in the contests on reasonable terms, dispensed with their services, and training dogs to draw chariots, introduced them in place of horses. At this, the wearers of the White and of the Red immediately entered their chariots for the races; but as the Greens and the Blues would not participate even then, Nero himself furnished the prizes for the horses and the horse-race took place.... ....When he had finished these ceremonies, he announced a series of horse-races, and carrying into the Circus these crowns as well as all the others that he had secured by his victories in chariot-racing, he placed them around the Egyptian obelisk. The number of them was one thousand eight hundred and eight. And after doing this he appeared as a charioteer. Roman History Books 61-62 (Cassius Dio) Shortly afterwards, the information of the same men proved fatal to Subrius Flavus. At first he grounded his defence on his moral contrast to the others, implying that an armed soldier, like himself, would never have shared such an attempt with unarmed and effeminate associates. Then, when he was pressed, he embraced the glory of a full confession. Questioned by Nero as to the motives which had led him on to forget his oath of allegiance, "I hated you," he replied; "yet not a soldier was more loyal to you while you deserved to be loved. I began to hate you when you became the murderer of your mother and your wife, a charioteer, an actor, and an incendiary." Annals (Tacitus)

My mistake, they weren't his personal guards.... He also prepared for an expedition to the Caspian Gates, after enrolling a new legion of raw recruits of Italian birth, each six feet tall, which he called the "phalanx of Alexander the Great." Life of Nero (Suetonius)

There's been yet another warning about contracting cancer in your lifetime. The list of various causes is growing steadily. If you smoke, sunbathe, drink beer, eat cheese, processed ham, open a fridge, or expose yourself to plastic bags you stand a risk of suffering from this malady. Personally, I think you stand a greater risk of this great disease if you see a doctor. One chap I used to know from work made a very simple choice. He wasn't interested in the various treatments available for cancer with all their requirements for close observation and undesirable side effects, Instead, he told me he wanted to live out what life he had. Spending the last few years of his existence in and out of hospital beds and a slow decline despite the attentions and privations of modern medecine didn't appeal to him. I can understand his viewpoint. Is he right to do that? Well, personally I believe he has the right to decide that for himself. Some might then draw parallels with the current trend toward legally assisted suicide, but I wouldn't go that far. There's a callousness you sometimes see in human beings and I wouldn't like to see a future where people are persuaded or cajoled into ending their lives to suit others. Philosophy of the Week The news that two hundred and four British soldiers have been killed in Afghanistan is saddening. The personal loss and grief of friends and family is obvious, and a part of me dislikes the posturings of politicians who go to great lengths to praise them. We know they're risking their lives out there. These men and women though are risking their lives partly by choice, in that they volunteered for service, and partly to serve their countries interests as defined by the Government. Whether the decision to send soldiers there is right or wrong, and these things are always a matter of opinion and perspective, war is a part of human nature and the need to defend your freedom ever-present. It reminds me though of a news item some years back. An American soldier refused point blank to go to Iraq because he didn't agree with thew war. I genuinely admire that man for standing up for his beliefs. However, I also see that he swore an oath to serve his countries interests. He has therefore broken that oath and so off to jail he must go. Such is the price of self-determination within an ordered and regulated world. Martin Luther King once said that a man who is not prepared to die for something does not deserve to live. Harsh words indeed. But how right was he? In the literal sense, death is that final encounter with the Grim Reaper. Perhaps in a more philosophical sense, death is the end of that rewarding experience we casually term as 'A Life'. How many of us bend under pressure for an easy existence? In my experience, freedom is a very fragile thing and whilst we make a great deal of the ending of slavery in the civilisied world since the nineteenth century, the truth is that human beings often like to enslave others by other means. Religion, politics, working enviroment, fashion, lifestyle.... There's always someone telling you how you should live your life. To what extent should you be individualistic? It seems attractive to pursue self-expression, but how many people are prepared to live with the consequences of setting themselves apart from their peers who survive in comfortable conformity?

Sometimes at night I look up at the stars, and like everyone else, I wonder if there's anyone out there. Sentient creatures, aliens, living out their lives and who knows? - Maybe plotting galactic domination as we speak? To a rational mind that's mostly paranoia and a reflection of the Cold War values that spawned the popularity of alien invasion myth, though I dio note that stories of alien inansions are nothing new. HG Wells classic War of the Worlds postulated the events in his late victorian world of a battle against tripodal aliens whose healthcare was sadly lacking. So it seems then that alien invasions aren't entirely the idea of Hollywood moguls or Pentagon generals, but a facet of human psychology. In medieval times, people talked of 'Dog-Heads', strange intelligent creatures from an unknown place far away who lurked in shadows and got up to all sorts of machinations.... Sounds familiar doesn't it? There are those of a certain mindset who claim that an alien race reaching our planet couldn't possibly be aggressive, because the need to co-operate to achieve that level of science would mean only a peaceful society could do that (distances between star systems are enormous and difficult to comprehend, not to mention difficult to to deal with). That's an optimistic view of course, from people who want to meet aliens and discuss science, philosophy, and the arts on an equal footing with intelligent creatures not of this Earth. I have a sneaking feeling these people are also quite lonely, because the average Earthling hasn't a clue about their favourite subjects and leaves the room when to guzzle beer whenever it comes up in conversation. Would aliens be peaceful or aggressive? The truth is, we can't know that. An alien species would have behaviour described by the sort of creature they evolved from, changed by their history and circumstance. Survival of the fittest would be as true on an alien world as our own so a dominant species wouldn't dominate without some ability to do so. How would they see us? As potential friends? Spiritual brothers? Curiosities? Resources? Enemies? Fodder? Experimental subjects? Or pests? We just can't second-guess how an alien mind would regard our self-important little species. Now that the British have followed America with freedom of information legislation, the files of governmental activity have revealed the extent to which the British public has encountered UFO's. Some of it is quite incredible and some clearly the imaginings of people who aren't sure what it is they've seen and are trying to find rational explanations in ignorance. It is, in fact, a very medieval way of thinking in some cases. But then, since we are essentially a pack animal and respond to outsiders in very instinctual ways, is it no suprise that all these conspiracy theories about aliens amongst us exist in what is supposed to be an educated world? Lets face it, in my area, people who have spent twelve years of their childhood lives (or more) at school still behave like boisterous chimpanzees. Somehow I suspect that intelligent peace loving aliens wouldn't be seen dead trying to discuss intellectual matters with the average human. More to the point, I suspect those peace loving aliens are looking up at the night sky on some distant world and wondering if there's intelligent life out there, just like us. Keep looking guys, we're all too busy arguing about where to put the fence and whether you're going to invade us. Dog Heads of the Week It has become the stuff of urban legend that the American authorities have 'covered up' UFO activity and that the infamous Project Blue Book was nothing more than a feint to distract the public from the 'real' investigation. All this talk of 'Greys' and 'Men In Black' is exactly the sort Dog-Headed nonsense we were dealing with seven hundred years ago. I can safely dismiss those urban legends because I have discovered the truth. I can't tell you of course because the government will assassinate me if I divulge that. Wow, this conspiracy stuff is easy....

Because he felt like it I imagine, but also I suspect because he was bored with the established factions and wanted 'play god' with Roman society, and since he ordered the new factions to be created, it's probable they had his patronage, and since he himself drove chariots in the circus (badly, according to reports), would he really want to be associated with a team of a lesser colour than gold or purple? That's another interesting point because I don't remember any mention of which team Nero drove for.

Thank you, but please realise that I'm not an expert. What I do find though however is many people have a preconception of what the Roman legions must have been like. I did too in my younger days, but my experiences of dealing with modern servicemen have made me realise that there's a human element missing from the depiction of ordered ranks marching across the map of the known world. As I see it (and you are welcome to debate the point) there are a number of issues when considering the Roman legions at the time of Cannae 1 - They were a temporary militia, not a permanent professional standing army. Legions were raised according to custom, for defence, or to meet the needs of circumstance. 2 - Training was not standardised in the modern manner. Certainly troops were drilled at first - how else could initiates perform unit manoevers? - but do we reallty expext such novices to march like they were on a parade ground? The more experienced parts of the legion would of course have a better idea. This was a time when people wielded swords as a matter of course whether they were any good at it or not. 3 - Cultural expectations - The legions at that time were organised in accordance with the expectations of Roman culture - in other words, the ever present need for status to be observed is part and parcel of the unit organisation,. The Romans were a warrior people (despite however many had since opted for peaceful occupations) and their society reflected that even during its more advanced stages. 4 - Lack of Communication - A great deal is made of Roman signalling but a lot of this belongs to a later era when the legions were permanent and therefore permanent solutions to the problems of battlefield communication could be addressed. Individual centurions, both as the dominant warrior of their manipular/cohortal 'pack', and as junior officers of the levy as a whole, were expected to show intiative and act on their own cognizance. This means that central control on the battlefield wasn't all encompassing as we meet believe. In any event, ancient armies conducted battles to a plan set before the confrontation began. Hannibal used those factors to his advantage when enveloping the Roman legions at Cannae - the Romans were acting to a poorly conceived operational plan and having to turn to face the enemy forces either sde disrupted their formation. Certainly the bulk of the Roman army had no idea what was going on even after it was too late. 5 - Order of Battle - We tend to see the Roman legions as part olf a formal state army - thats understandable and natural to us because we have an intuitive appreciation of how things are done in the modern day. We recognise parallels in the Roman methods and tend to push that analogy too far, foisting modern sensibilities on the Roman world as Adrian Goldsworthy might put it. Indeed, one member of this forum used to assume that the latin word for army (Agmen) was a unit definition in its own right, when in fact it was merely a word describing a gathering of legions and other formations under one command. A legion of the time was a levy of men (that's what the word means) intended to prosecute warfare on behalf of Roman interests, not a regiment in a state army. 6 - Leadership - Here the Romans always had difficulties. Because of their societal need to encompass status amongst the community based on military reputation, generals of the time were amateur leaders given control of the legions by political assignment - they were not career officers and many had little experience (or proven ability) of command. This was the time of the 'consular army', in which the two democratically elected senior politicians of Rome were also leaders of their levied troops. In modern terms, it was like having two Prime Ministers acting as generals of troops raised by recruiting campaigns. you just know it will all end it tears! But of course the Romans were living in an age when warfare was an unsophisticated (albeit crafty) business and one in which at this time the professional soldier as we understand it did not exist.

On a normal working day, our local high street is busy. Two lanes of cars jostling for position between parked vehicles and the intermittent movement of buses. Pedestrians bringing the whole thing to a temporary halt on crossings, shoppers carrying heaps of plastic bags, queuing at ATM's, or simply standing around at bus stops for the next smoke belching leviathan to appear. On a Sunday, the same street is empty. A few moslems walking to their local mosque but otherwise you wouldn't know the street was used. What's worse is the number of shops and businesses closed for business. I can see at least two more, whitewashed windows and 'To Let' signs proliferating. There's two trains of thought on this issue. On the one hand the governmnt keep telling us that the recovery is going to happen next year, whilst other financial experts tell us it's going be worse than we think. I don't have to think aout about - I can see how well business is doing in Swindon. On the plus side the recent announcement of the railway electrification program means that Swindons economy will receive a boost. I suppose that's a good thing, but will that provide any lasting effect? After ll, as I've discovered myself recently, shrinking incomes and rising prices mean that fewer people can afford train tickets. Unless, of course, you want to ride the 'gravy-train'. You would think that the news coverage of recent scandals would deter such fraud and deceit, but no, it gets worse, as we discover one Minister of Parliament secured a home for her daughter at public expense. I suspect though that her fortunes have just suffered a downturn too. On the Plus Side of the Week The future of Coate Water has been in doubt. It's a reservoir built to service the canals of the eighteenth century and now serves as a local beauty spot and nature reserve. Developers however anted to build a university campus next door and homes on the farmland between the lake and the M4 motorway. I viewed that prospect with dread. Coate Water has a peaceful air about it due to it's position on the edge of town, but once enveloped by housing estates you can imagine the wrack and ruin that will befall it. Thankfully the enquiry over Coate Waters future has decided that the housing development will not go ahead. Phew. There is of course Swindons much debated eastern development still to go ahead and that will get us through the dowbnturn with jobs for builders and so forth. There is something I don't get though. It's all very well claiming that building new houses will get us through the bad times (a common government mantra) but how does that benefit me? What I know about building houses can be written on the head of a six inch nail, and affording one of those new shoebox properties isn't possible. Does having hundreds of new houses automatically generate new jobs for their occiupants? Seems a bit unlikely. And when the builders have finished, what then? Do they go through a downturn too? Or shall we expect another attempt to develope the area around Coate Water at a later date?

It is true there were four chariot racing teams (whose star drivers were a close parallel to modern formula one champions). The teams were Red, White, Blue, and Green. Nero temporarily added two more, Purple and Gold. These teams were factions in their own right whose followers became very wrapped up in the fortunes of their events. Coloured pidgeons were released over the city of Rome to inform those not sat watching the race who had won it. Horse racing also existed without the chariot. One of Rome's earliest legends is the 'Rape of the Sabines', when Romulus invited his neighbouring tribe to a friendly day of horse racing and then kidnapped their wives when they were gone (our modern custom of carrying a bride across the threshold is descended from celebrations of that event) I'm not sure they offered odds as we do today. More likely it was something like someone shouting "A dozen sestercii that Ambitius will not finish!", followed by "I'll take that bet!" A custom known to have taken place at arena events was for the audience to buy 'bad luck' tokens, in order to curse the contestant they hated (and like modern trends, possibly throw the offending lead object at him!). Did that happen at races too? I hae no information about that but it wouldn't suprise me if they did. Incidentially, whilst gambling was very popular at all levels of society it was also frowned upon and attempts were made to suppress it.

An interesting point which might suggest the non-citizen ststus of auxillaries was something at least some people looked down their noses at. However, what is probably more relevant is that the auxillaries were 'allies' who worked alongside the legions as liveried mercenaries to all intents and purposes. In other words, it was the legions who were sent to prosecute a war, not the auxillaires, and the name is a clue to the deployment strategy - they were extra troops (and useful ones too) rather than a primary arm. It is true that forests were more widespread during the Roman conquest. However, iron age culture was widespread and before the arrival of Caesar continental agricultural practises were beginning to open up the countryside with more efficient practises, especially along the Thames Valley. Further, what isn't stressed are the tracks and pathways that were used by Britons at the time. There were major tracks like the Ridgeway, but also an almost rectangular network of connecting paths linking communities and farms. Some landowners had small ranches for animals, and the necessity to raise grazing animals meant that open heathland was as common as forest (though wild animals might also have had something to do with that - any eco-experts out there?) Iron age culture had been violent, and with the development of iron weapons in Britain (around the same time Rome was founded) the rise of the warrior as an important figure had given rise to the hill fort as a center of communal life, mostly for protection and status. Some wealthy farmers for instance built their own mini-hill forts - probably for show rather than defense. In order for these protective settlements to work, the populace must have been able to raise hue & cry plus reach the hill fort with all good haste. It seems then that travel about the British Islands wasn't quite as restrictive as it may seem. And we should point out how fond the Britons were of their chariots - which needed open space to operate. Cohorts were led by centurions who were encouraged to show initiative. In other words, the Roman formations were less structured than the image we have of huge battle deployments and were 'objective focused'. I have forwarded the opinion before now that the Roman legions were the development and enlargement of the original warbands that raided each other in the Tiber Valley. The cohorts were essentially that - a formal warband with a dominant warrior leader. We have to realise that although Roman practises are hauntingly familiar, they didn't quite do things the same way as we do today. It's a common conception to paint the legions as the same as a modern army - but that's a false assumption. Certainly they did similar things because their are only so many ways of ordering large numbers of men and the Roman were inverterate organisers. Nonetheless the legion was not a regiment in a state army. That said, armies did march across Britain. They did this by forming one long line of units marching from place to place hopefully with cavalry screening. The equipment of a Roman soldier would have made little difference to strategy. It might have affected tactics on the battlefield though, but the terrain influence you point at was inconsequential. 1 - Because might not know how to ride a horse 2 - Because he might not be viewed as 'acceptable' as a cavalryman 3 - Because there might not be enough horses to go around at any given time 4 - Because he might be given other duties 5 - Because he might be unavailable (injured or on leave) The availability of horses was limited to begin with, but remember that the cavalry contingent operated from the legions base, such as a camp, and that the legions were not reliant on supply lines like modern armies. For the most part, they obtained what they needed by foraging from the local area. The Romans might not have had much fodder, but there were farms nearby that did.

There was a time when music store assistants smiled when I entered their shop. That was back in the eighties of course, when money was easily had and quickly spent, and a time when we were more prosperous even if we didn't know or felt it so. Whereas once all I seemed to do was buy things, all I seem to do now is repair things, or rather pay someone else to. Last night I got the call from the music store to tell me my latest repair job was ready for collection. That particular box of tricks is getting old in terms of consumer electronics, so much so that the gentleman who repaired it for me had to get the part made to order because they don't have any left. The pleasant suprise is that the process only took a week. Perhaps in a time of economic downturn and short order books, the company tasked to recreate the broken part was only too glad to find something for an employee to do for ten minutes. Would that repair have happened so quickly in the eighties? With order books so full of large quantity runs for important clients? I too have been making some repairs. My PC is working reliably now - albeit a little slower. The parts that were causing the failures have been identified and removed. I find that repair work can be quite satisfying. There really is a genuine warm glow when the machine bursts into life after the daunting and detailed work to rebuild it has been completed successfully. I wonder if surgeons feel the same about their patients? I imagine so. There is an obvious parallel. Sometimes I think about those old cars they find in barns, held together by rust and bird droppings. Or those old World War Two aeroplanes they sometimes find in woods or muddy holes. There are people who can take those corroded piles of tangled metal and turn them back into working machines every bit as shiney and perfect as the day they left the factory gate. The patience and craftmanship of that kind of repair is simply stunning. What drives us to do that? In many cases, it isn't necessary to have those machines work again. We have better and more reliable cars now, and World War Two aeroplanes can be a little intimidating and dangerous to operate. Perhaps part of it is the history, that indefinable connection with ghosts of the previous operators? Or is it the machine themselves? Do they really have some kind of presence by virtue of the manufacture and usage they once had? When I collect my box of tricks today I shall wonder why it's so important to me. Partly familiarity I guess. I know the quirks and details of its operation. Like an old friend, it became a partner of my music creation. Ah.... Now there is the answer. It's the act of creation that is so deeply embedded in our subconcious and the reason we labour so hard sometimes to restore inanimate machinery to working order. Well thank you music store person. I'm happy my box of tricks is working again like its maker intended. It must be so satisfying to see contented customers and I can see why you smile... What?.... Oh yes.... I nearly forgot, how much do I owe you?... Really?.... Ahhhh..... Good Deal of the Week I popped into the local computer repair shop and asked the people behind the counter what the exact name of the malfunctioning part was that I held up to their discerning gaze. They recognised it instantly, gave some useful info, and told me not to bother replacing it. Those things are old technology, rare, and expensive they said. Checking on the internet I was forced to agree. Replacing the part wasn't going to be cheap. As chance would have it I found an American dealer who was quite happy to export the necessary item to our shores for a price that seemed a bargain. A little suspicious at first, I checked the manufacturer and specifications, and all seemed in order. With exchange rates the way they are, I ordered the part for around half the cost of something similar in Britain. Will the part arrive on time? Will the part arrive intact? Will I curse and sweat trying to make it fit? Will it make my PC run at full speed again? I must admit, if I manage a better repair than the qualified technicians down the road, then I really will have something to smile about.

Sorry to butt in to the debate, but this statement doesn't sound right to me. There were no standardised training schemes within the Roman legions at this time (and even in the Principate, training wasn't entirely consistent). In fact, training was largely 'on the job'. The organisation of three ranks of hastatii, principes, and Triarii was a system used to preserve those who had gained experience. The hastatii at the front were novices who were to some extent considered expendable. The rear rank, the triarii, were veterans. As regards ability, I don't think the legions raised to tackle Hannibal in 216BC were high quality at all. They were new recruits and many wouldn't have had any experience of combat at all. The segregation of troops according to age and experience suggests training wasn't widely available. I've no doubt that commanders with any foresight ensured their men were practised before the battle, but are fencing and drills any replacement for the real thing? Certainly there weren't any formal training schemes in the modern sense. As for mercenaries, these tend to be seen in either as top notch specialists or the dregs of war. This has always been the case and the truth is that mercenaries vary in quality considerably and always have. Hannibals troops however followed him across the Alps and a lengthy campaign in Italy, so it would appear these were men who knew what war was and wanted to fight enough to tolerate the privations they endured, recruited largely from men who had sought a conflict to occupy their time. They were tough fighters to begin with, men who had learned their vocation already.

Before you get carried away, please realise that the earliest Roman clinarii/cataphtactii weren't as effective as popularly assumed. The great weight of armour and rider weighed heavily on the horses and generally they wouldn't ride at the gallop for fear of wearing the animals out too soon. There's also an account of an infantry formation parting ranks to allow the horsemen in, then pulling them from their saddles and dispatching them with ease. Also, there's some suggestion that at least some of these heavily armoured troops were largely ceremonial as opposed to battle ready units. The first such unit was created in the reign of Hadrian but the idea took some time to catch on, whatever the Sassanids did.

The plan was to head for the hills and spend the day wearing myself out on the ridges of the Marlborough Downs. On the way I took it into my head to investigate a corner of the local countryside I'd never strayed into before. The grass was incredibly thick. The blades were almost six feet long, though not standing upright, growing sideways in thick layers of the stuff. I've never seen anything like that in England before. After ten minutes of wading through that lot, I was knackered. It was like wading through syrup. Worst of all, I felt a twinge from an old injury. That had happened when I was out hiking once before. Descending a plank-reinforced stairway in a local wood, I slipped and stretched my right leg pretty badly. I'd been unable to walk for five minutes and at the time I was wondering how I was going to get out that predicament. Even today, there's an area of my leg that remains numb although the muscle works well enough. With the weight of my pack very much in mind I decided a long climb onto the Downs was asking a bit much. Discretion is the better part of valour, so it was back home. It took longer than ten minutes. Foiled Again Since the dawn of time (I love that phrase) we humans have observed astronomical phenomena and wondered at its mysterious magic. There are times when the night sky is such a seductive canvas upon which nature has prepared a masterpiee for us. I've always had an interest in cosmology and for me being able to see these things happen is something I long for. However, time and again I hear of these things after the event. Or, more usually, the weather is lousy and observation is pointless. Some years back we had a full eclipse of the sun, a very rare event in Britain, and the whole thing was masked by cloud. Last night it was the return of the Perseids, fragments of a comets tail burning up as it enters Earths atmosphere. And as expected the skies of southern England were obscured by grey clag. Foiled again.