caldrail

Why? You can have in the house an area for live shows and play R:TW in the backyard with real soldiers! Yes, but as a paranoid leader of the roman state I would want to keep a close eye on my emails, and to be honest, if I want Total War in the flesh, why not invade another barbarian country? Plenty out there on the frontier.

The terror was incidential in the case of the Spartacus War. The famous rebel gladiator was not actually waging war on the Roman state as such (he was not fighting for freedom as usually thought), nor did he set out to terrorise the Roman state by design, but taking advantage of his popularity among the downtrodden classes to pursue a life as a bandit, something he started immediately upon escape as the sources relate that local folk tried to stop him raiding from his camp on Vesuvius and had to call in the military by complaints. In fact, rather than attempting to intimdate the Romans, which terrorism would have entailed, he was rather more preoccupied with staying ahead of the legions sent after him following his initial successes at fending them off. His campaign was therefore initially opportunistic, then evolving into evasion. At no time did he mount anything we would consider a terrorist attack.

About time, I say. Congratulations to the authors for trying at least.

A little while ago I bumped into a guy who was involved in battlefield re-enactment. There's a few of them around - this isn't the first time I've encountered re-enactors. Dressing up in historical costumes and pretending to fight? Isn;'t that a little sad? Well... That depends on your viewpoint. Re-enactment is after all a practical study of how people conducted themselves in times gone by and for that matter they sometimes get heavily involved in historical research. In an era when the written word is no longer enough, such a visual representation of real events might not be entirely 100% accurate, but it certainly conveys the imagery and who knows? If it inspires youngsters to stop daubing walls with spray paint, isn't that a good cause? Anyhow, I had a fantastic conversation about things military and learned a few things from him. Compare that with a chap I spoke to once before. He made some comment about the Romans being the best soldiers ever - an idea I couldn't allow to go unchallenged - and immediately spotting my military surplus trousers the off-duty soldier dismissed me with "Come back when you've done something." In the news this morning is a piece about the inquest into an incident in Afghanistan, where a rogue policeman attacked a squad of british soldiers. This policeman used automatic weapons on his supposed allies and perhaps not suprisingly, the story focuses on how one soldier was hit and played dead. It would be very easy to point a finger and claim that the soldier playing dead was not entirely heroic. I do recognise that he was in a dangerous situation and without the means to effectively combat his enemy, his survival instinct proved stronger than foolhardiness. I don't actually blame him for that despite the current era of Cameron's Heroes, a status which I notice some servicement are starting to enjoy. As for my military surplus trousers, they're on sale in the high street. I have no guilt or fantasies about them. As for the soldier who sneered, come back when you've learned something. As for Cameron's insistence of heroism, yes, some of them are, in a very real sense. Reward the heroes please, not the 'also-rans' in their wake. There's nothing worse than a uniform that expects hero worship, especially when some of those wearing it are behaving disrespectfully toward the very people they want respect from. Why Was Wonder Woman Wasted? Now there's an alliterative heading. Another news item tells me that a remake of Wonder Woman has been axed. Anyone who saw the original with Lynda Carter either would probably wonder why anyone would feel the need to destroy their own careers with it. Thing is, I know that throughout history there have been women who were at the forefront of military action. I recall an indian woman who led her tribe to success against their rivals. A female samurai who was genuinely feared by male colleagues. A lady who took to the life of a knight in the middle ages. Boudicca screaming revenge as her chariot charges pell-mell toward the roman legions. And so forth. How easy is it for an actress, however athletic and blessed with attractive curves, to really suggest a woman who lives by violence? The only option is to put her in a skimpy costume and give her lots of wisecracks. But then, it all gets a bit moribund very quickly. Extremely quickly in this case, having dropped the series before it was made.

Further to Maty#s answer, and to reiterate my own, the ancient battlefield may have been a terrifying place at times, but you generally fought together, as a closely packed herd. There's a measure of reassurance in that. What Roman soldiers didn't have to cope with was the constant threat of anonymous firearm attacks, random explosions. I was going to add having to cope with death, injury, and risk, often without majority assistance, but of course that's blatant nonsense having remembered Marcellimus's discussion about what you would have seen on the field of Adrianople - a very personal view, yet one borrowed from elsewhere, because Ammanius marcelinus had indeed seen perilous miltary action, he had done so under the Western Empire against the Franks, not the Goths in the east. There is a curious feature of battlefield experience linked to this. Despite training, skill, discipline, and protection, there's no doubt that the typical ancient warrior would have witnessed and suffered horrendous injuries as the opposing warrior is hacked to bits (or stabbed - the preferred method of the aspiring legionary). Iron Age battles were apparently even worse for the lack of protective armour. Archaeology reveals many young men with serious injuries received and survived. It seems then that a part of human psychology adapts to the necessity of violence. Whether we like inflicting harm and risking it, the need to fight is a basic instinct and one behavioural style we can choose for better or worse. Therefore we have a natural ability to cope with what would seem to be a nightmare of sharp blades and their use. On the other hand, the changes in the nature of combat since have not found a suitable niche in our biologiccal support mechanisms, although the same attitudes and behaviours still form the basis of this activity. Some people are of course more prone to stress conditions than others.

This morning my doctor called me in for a decision on what to do about my health. Apparently if I was 65 or older he wouldn't bother (Heck, I'd probably die of old age anyway) but since I'm such a young man, he'll presribe these very special radioactive kryptonite pills. I kid you not, the little card box vibrates with strange power all by itself. Reading the instructions is an eye-opener. Some people aren't affected, but the side effects are headaches, tiredness, nausea, and so forth. Unless of course I'm in a smaller band of the population that are allergic to kryptonite, in which case I might suffer swollen facial features, strange skin colourations, a slight inability to father children, and freqent emptying of my digestive system from either end. Oh what fun. If I'm very unlucky I become a hermaphrodite and suffer a loss of skin as it blisters and peels off. That's not a joke - the manual says all of this stuff. It wouldn't suprise me if I was at risk of self combusting. But hey, it'll fix my health problem no problem at all. My New Cool Friend The fridge is officially replaced. The old dead one is discarded, left to the elements and whichever gypsy fancies making a few quid on it. I care nothing for it, for I now have a fresh newly constructed fridge in spotless white metal and plastic. I must say the chaps who delivered it were very helpful and cheery as they manhandled heavy metal boxes up and down my restricted width stairs. Well done chaps. A credit to your employer. It is interesting because I had a recent discussion with one of my employment trainers. She's a biker, a serious one, and I enquired why she took up motorbiking. Actually she never really answered the question, but our conversation got around to men hanging on to a motorbike for years while women regularly change them, and that the exact opposite happens with shoes. She has a point. Men do form relationships with machines. Mostly I suspect because they don't nag or throw tantrums, becing generally obedient inaminate objects. Probably why blokes buy sex dummies I guess. Well, I now have a cool new friend. Nice fridge... Hmmmm....

Among the swathes of destruction wreaked by mother nature recently, America is not denied its fair share of it. That much I can see in the news, although in fairness what it must be like to suffer floods and tornado's is thankfully beyond my experience. I wonder if all this damage to peoples lives is making Americans seek a life elsewhere? I ask that question because of late I've noticed an increasing number of americans in Swindon. For instance, there was the chap who glanced at me in a sort of curious appraisal as he set about walking his dog. He did look somehow detached in his manner, a sort of wariness about ordinary day to day living, something hard to explain unless you witness it. In fact I only knew he was american because his dog took a dislike to one owned by a local and he spoke to chap quite calmly as both dogs prepared for a life or death struggle for honour, tree-trunks, and the right to sniff butts. There is of course the jovial young american I know from the museum team. He's just got a job at a golf course. It's like Chevvy Chase made real. Nightmare. A couple of days ago I wandered up the hill for some fish and chips. That's becoming a rare delicacy to be savoured now that food prices are rising inexorably. So instead of the more usual cod, a fish almost cooked into extinction and almost the cause of a war between us and Iceland in decades past, I decided instead to order haddock. Not so tasty, but cheaper and less damaging to my conciense in these eco-friendly times. I waited in the queue as the american in front of me struggled with Hong Kong accents. Don't get embarrased mate, we all struggle with that. All part of British society. Eventually he took the meal, seeming a little suspicious that in some way he wasn't the victim of some kind of fiendish oriental ruse to extract more money than he thought was correct. That too is part of british society, my friend. Ordering My Chips Whilst I sympathised at his difficulties in negotiating the hazards of a chinese takeaway, I took a fdeep breath and plunged in with the confidence that years of practice give you. haddock and chips please. "Chips?" No, haddock and chips. "One pound forty." One pound forty? That's astonishingly cheap! Oh hang, he's only serving me with chips. Erm.. Excuse me?... I asked for haddock and chips? "Hadd..." Ha-ddock-and-chips. Haaaa-ddddddockkkk. "Haddock?" Yes mate. It's a fish you have on your menu. Looks like cod but tastes cheaper. "Haddock and chips?" Yes! I knew shouting louder would solve the problem. It's the british way. Emotional State Quite by chance I found myself assisting a lady of east european extraction with her computer programming. It's probably best not rto ask why, just that these situations occur sometimes. She was having a problem with little bitmaps and inevitably I started making humorous quips. Those who know me in the flesh will understand that my sense of humour is a test of patience for everyone else. However, she did seem amused. That, in retrospect, was probably a bad move, because if someone laughs at my jokes it only encourages me further. Eventually she could handle no more. It was a choice between computer programming and hysterics. "Please stop" She asked, "You are affecting my emotional state" Yeah? Rock on. I've had half a glass of wine this evening andit's only fair to warn you I'm a little out of control. Disaster of the Week My fridge has blown up. Obviously my car was its only friend and now the car is stolen, my fridge committed suicide in despair at facing life with only my jokes for company.

Before the Marian Reforms, there was no standing army at all. If you wanted to fight in the legions you would have to wait for war to break out, when a levy was called for (that's what the word legion means) and a legion formed traditionally for one year, or more likely, the duration of hostilities. A place was announced and volunteers would head their. What follows was a long winded selectioon parade in which each man was chosen individually rather like kids choosing betweeb their mates in turn for a game of football. Each man had to swear an oath of service too. There is a description of the procedure in the sources which I wrote up on these forums before, but I can't find it. With regard to later legionary recruitment, this was done according to need. Of course there was probably no reason why you couldn't knock on the door of the nearest fort and ask to be be enlisted, but apparently recruitment details were sent to find suitable youths in settlements, often at some distance from the legion. Recruits were given a modest amnount of spending money and escorted to the fort by experienced legionaries. I don't know of any mention of recruitment officers stationed at forums, but it might have happened, although they wouldn't need a huge logbook since they were sending people off in small numbers. In the late empire, we see some dodgy practises emerging where people were recruited against their will, either by force or ruse. There were still volunteers in this period of course - young men are naturally prone to seeking violent lifestyles.

Execution phase not popular? I doubt it was intended to be. That was about justice enacted in public view. It was sometimes made entertaining in a way that insulted or demeaned the individual sentenced (thus for instance criminals might be asked to knide another then pass the knife to the next, or tied to a post and attacked by wild animals, an unworthy death and humiliating in the sense that no-one will assist, or the anecdote about a woman put inside a wooden cow with a sexually deprived bull let loose in the arena - you can sort of imagine the idea) In modern perspectives it isn't entertaining at all. For the Romans, it was a sense f justice linked to irony or pathos, and done in the arena to the public can see that justice has been committed, creating both a carthatic experience and a deterrence against the behaviour that got the individuals so accused. There is also the view that it demonstrated the power of the Roman state. There is no escape from justice, and we're going to show you why. We also have to realise that although the typical Roman was more used to death and accident in their own enviroment, there were still going to be people among them with humane leanings. So the fact Seneca is upset isn't suprising. What suprises me was that he went to an arena expecting some light entertaiment and was appalled by the killing he witnessed. Surely that was the norm?

That was a bandit/pirate raid. Hardly terrorism, which is a form of blackmail.

I did mention to the policeman that metal theft might have been a motive. He didn't think so. For some time the police have been trying to get me to name my perseuctor regarding what happened to the vehicle over the years. Sorry, but they didn't bother to draw attention to themselves. Thieves prefer to keep things quiet as a rule.

True, but the Romans seemed to be a little short of the good stuff too. As far as the commanders were concered, the soldiers were there to do as ordered and didn't need to know anything. Perhaps that's overstating the point - I'm sure the more observant soldiers soon started rumours - but bear in mind there was no guarantee the Roman troops were going to obey without question. This is a fundamental difference in attitude that needs to be understood. Legionaries were not automatically obedient Correct, although an enviroment of excellence improves the average. The Romans had high expectations of their amateur leaders (that's the class system for you) but no system of guaranteeing a basic level of performance. We have one classic example of a man trying not to get noticed. When Germanicus sent a letter ahead to the commander of a mutined legion in Germania, he suggested strongly that the commander had better have done something before he arrived. Implicit in this anecdote is that Germanicus is angry at the lack of initiative from commanders, probably made worse by the clumsy and ineffectual efforts Blaesus had made to control the situation in Pannonia. I've already mentioned that Roman commanders were not career officers. In my view, they were more often military managers, a acting more like lords of the manor, but that would have been natural to them because that was the enviroment they had learned command from to any extent. It should be pointed out however that the Augustan system of military tribunes was, in all probabllity, set up to provide a cadre of experienced (not necessarily trained) leaders who would lead legions in later life, since for the Romans political careers invariably called for military credibility. Politicians were commanders also - there was no functional seperation in role. Which is basically the sort of thing I was talking about. All very ad hoc and not to any standard. In any case, simply reading a book doesn't make you proficient at a skill.

There was no sophistication about Roman leadership. The majority were fairly lacklustre and although some did shine, we should remember the senior commanders were not career officers - an important observation which indicates a lack of formal leadership training. They relied on the individuals previous political experience and family upbringing, a system that produced variable results. Whilst there will be some common factors we should also bear in mind that the Roman era was on of death from disease, accident, or violence before the age of twenty for three out of five Romans. Life was often short and brutal, thus we see the popularity of arena combat, boxing, panration, and chariot racing as not only a thrill in itself, but also a means for the audience to be passive and not risk themselves. Also, I would point out that recent pschylogical science is geared toward the enviroment in which these troops operate. In Roman times you expect a claustrophic ennviroment, one of safety in numbers, of large scale effects from small scale emotional state changes. The noise of battle, which wasn't inconsiderable in Roman times despite orders to fight silently, was of a more feral and challenge orientated nature, quite apart of the incidental noise of the gunpowder and explosives era.. Frightening at times certainly, but less otherworldly to experience. Points to be stressed are 1 - the bonds between soldiers in the legion. They call each other 'Brother', and the low level organisation is designed to foster the extended family that we find common in Roman culture. 2 - The lack of individual initiative and creative thought in combat, despite the encouragement of officers to ward their men to show some. Men who inadvertantly rush forward from the ranks are laughed at by their comrades. 3 - Channelled anger, which seems to emerge again and again in descriptions before the late empire. The men are hard-bitten, perhaps even frustrated by their lot if not by the enemy, and readily focus that rage - which I personally believe to be as a result of centurionate leadership (and cajolement) as opposed to senior policy. 4 - The balance of fear, between the possibility of flogging or decimation, as opposed to the facing off of damgerous enemies on the field. 5 - The constant presence of corruption, larceny, and various dodges within the ranks. These are men who are trained to peform a role rather than be disciplined overall. Away from the fight, their discipline is remarkably fragile. 6 - The occaisional emergence of charismatic troublemakers within the ranks and by modern standards the odd inability to harness the p;ositive aspects of that sort of character. 7 - The role of Roman culture as a format for troops behaviour. Men were expected to be within certain personality limits, supposed to exhibit what they regarded as a healthy macho, aggressive character. Although a sense of personal honour is suggested by the Romans, it remained an ideal, one a soldier should strive for, and by that token usually lacking. 8 - The lack of information given to the soldiers, who appear to have been left in the dark as often as not. Troops were not usually told where they were marching for they would react badly. It was considered enough that they knew who they were fighting. In terms of morale, there is very little in the way of propaganda fed to the men, and we see the speech to rouse mens mood as very important in the methodology of Roman leadership.

Today is not a good day. And the subject of my woe? That's an interestng question in itself. It ought to be about my car, the Eunos Cabriolet slowly disintegrating with a little help from a vandal or two. Reason being that it's gone. Vanished. Disappeared. I mean, did someone ctually bother to steal it? You couldn't just drive it away. But gone it most certainly has, snatched away more or less from under my nose yesterday afternoon.I only realised it was gone late into the evening. I doubt it was stolen to be used. Maybe the alloy wheels paid for a snort of suspicious substances? Who knows? One has to wonder at the attitude of the police. Frequently they tell us to report crime and be proactive in preventing it, yet the response I get is baffling. Last night, as I attempted to call the local police station, the officer I spoke suggested I investigate the crime myself. He seriiously said that, though I should point out that policemen are notorious in Britain for taking the mick out of the public in this way when it suits them. "There you are, see?" He prodded me, "You do have lines of enquiry." Oh? Is that so? Can you imagine how successful I'm going to be at solving the Case of the Missing Eunos? All I'll get is mystified looks and shrugs. So why the self-help course from PC Plod? Was he in a bad mood that night? Am I on some list of people to send on wild goose chases? Was it my own sorry fault for purchasing a slightly sporty car in the first place? Or does standard policy in dealing with worthless dole claimants render us ineligible for receiving the benefits of law enforcement? Goood grief, is this some covert attempt by our local sheriff to run me out of town? I should be worried. Instead I'm shaking my head. Tackle The Metal Thieves Not all bad news it seems. Todays local newspaper tells me that police are determined to catch metal thieves. The theft of metals, including lead, copper pipes and cables, remains a concern throughout the county and can have a significant effect on homeowners, businesses, schools,, places of worship, and public buildings. Hmmm... Seems not all policemen have been reading their emails. It'll Get Better the current catchphrase is regeneration. Everything about Swindon is regeneration these days. backers of all these developments are proudly telling us how great it will be in the future. Except... It won't... Because Swindon still has the same thieves in afterward.

As it happens, coinage became so debased in the late empire that it hardly contained any valuable metal at all. Although the empire was able to survive financially confortably, much of its wealth seems to have been squandered on military issues, including factories, supply, and security, besides keeping barbarians at bay. I also suspect a great deal of wealth was squandered on excessive bureacracy as people sought sinecures or status through reward and staff size. In other words, the late empire was struggling to balance the books because the very people supposed to be doing that were exploiting the system, never mind squabbling among themselves.

Oh great. More Confessions Of A Roman.

Occaisionally during my action packed dole seeking lifestyle I catch a bit of television. Mostly because there's so little I want to watch that I normally do something else. I've probably mentioned before how strange it is that with more and more channels available, there's less and less you actually want to sit through. On the plus side, maybe that's a goood thing, because they say television is bad for you. At the risk of becoming a wannabee journalist and reporting on people, I sat down to check out what 's going on in the world. I know there's one out there. Been there a few times. Ireland is back on the news. As I reached for the volume I spotted the sign that said Moneygall and feared for the worst, especially after some idiot threw a dud grenade at a policeman talking to a couple of young kids. No, it was worse. The entire village is throwing aside the emerald isle image in favour of stars and bars. What are they doing? It seems Barack Obama is visiting the village to go back to his roots. Ireland? Shouldn't he be visiting west Africa or something? Blast From The Past Having recovered from my hysterics concerning the presidential visit I came across a rerun of Noggin The Nog.. Haven't seen that since I was a kid. For those unacquainted with prehistoric television Noggin The Nog is a cartoon lord of the manor. In this episode the evil Nogbad attempted to sneak his crows into the castle inside a pie cooked for Noggin's birthday. Nail biting stuff. No wonder life as an adult is so dull. Caldrail's Rabbit Rocket Here we go then. Second in a series of recipes for the discerning supermaket goer. For each plate spread a little rocket (the greenie salad, not the sputnik variety). On top of that spread a little stir fry of - Chopped Red Onion - Chopped Brown Mushroom - Chopped British Radish (much classier than that god awful Horse Radish stuff) On top of that spread beef mince, stir fried in a touch of brown sauce plus a little ginger and curry powder to taste. On top of that spead a few potato gnocchi, oven cooked until lightly browned and smeared with some green pesto. Add a touch of black pepper if you wish. I did. And hey presto, one tasty looking dish to delight a jaded jobseeker. Come to think of it, this is all Jamie Oliver does to earn umpteen millions of pounds every year. Where's my money then?

The health service is determined to prove I'm not well. As part of their quest to put me under the micropscope I've been asked to attend some strange scanning session. Apparently it's another excuse for that young lady nurse to daub me in gel. I can't wait. Thing is though I keep hearing complaints that the health service can't deliver this or deliver that. I must be honest, as someone who's never needed much in the way of treatment, I haven't noticed any problem at all. So what's the deal? I'm not asking or getting any preferential treatment. Or have I accidentially signed a release form for medical experiments? I have to admit, I've never heard of these big expensive gizmo's they want to try out me. In my mind I have this image of covert nazi scientists hiding an enclave of laboratories in a remote Swindon hospital. Cue lightning, thunder, and reckless bus drivers winding their way up that lonely dual carriageway... A Bit Of Privacy, Please Just of late I've noticed a lot of news items dealing with privacy matters. It's bad enough hackers getting into all sorts of networks and stealing information about our gameplaying habits, but now that injunctions are not enough, I see talk of super-injunctions against people revealing private info. But if you're a celebrity, surely the whole point of becoming one is to flaunt yourself publicly? I guess the obvious course of action is make yourself as dowdy and boring as posible. Stop doing stuff. Become forgotten. Then again, if you do that, the paychecks will stop coming in. So the fashionable answer to that dilemma is to stop people talking about you so that people will keep talking about you. Or is it more the case the celebrities only want people to say the right things?

We see so much crime, violence, and misry on television. War, accidents, and greedy politicians. Yet only when we actually know someone involved does it mean anything.

All this good weather has been very seductive. It might be something people in other places around the world take for granted, but we British do enjoy our sunny weather when we can get. This weekend the clouds rolled in and as disappointing as it was, we do need the rain. I stopped for a while looking out the back window. The rainfall came in surges, no more than a light drizle one moment, a torrential downpour the next, though I didn't hear any thunder from the storms the weather people told us to expect. So far this year I haven't had a good soaking. Perhaps that's tempting fate, because our variable climate is quite unforgiving for those who aren't prepared. You would think with many years of experience in coping with british weather that I would avoid the worst of it by second nature. Trouble is, we do tend to get complacent. And even with the cool breeze and bulging tufts of cloud drifting past the window today, it's actually quite pleasant out there. I mean, who needs a raincoat today? Do You Knopw That...? This morning I signed on again, my weekly ritual for ensuring I don't end up on the street. My usual claims advisor is on a training course, probably designed to allow him to recover from me, and my second least favourite advisor took over. In fairness he was friendlier than he usually is. having asked me how I was (they all do - it's a standard litany with advisors besides being polite) I replied I was a bit buffeted, hinting at the recent accusation of non-compliance. He of course didn't know anything about that, and instead pointed out I had a black eye. Yes. I know. Thank you. Live Without Money This morning I saw a news item about a chap who decided to live without money. Apparently he barters for everything he needs. There is a ceratin attraction to this idea given that I'm a long term unemployed person, but what claims investigator is going to believe that two cows, three pigs, sacks of potato's, and a shiney new hammer aren't the proceeds of illegal earnings? Interplanetary Billiards The scientists do say that in Earths infancy the solar system was a dodgy place to be, with rocks colliding all over the place. Most have long since collided but there are still lots of mountain sized lumps of stone whizzing around out there. One is due to pass Earth within 2000,000 miles later this year. That's so close in interplanetary terms it has to be counted as a near miss. It's even closer than the orbit of the Moon for crying out loud. If it collided with Earth, YU55, as the asteroid is named, would cause an explosion equal to 65,000 Hiroshima size atom bombs. Why do governments spend billions on high tech weaponry? All we have to do is chuck rocks at each other.

There is a great deal of fortune and circumstance involved. I doubt Hannibal had in mind to resort to sieges in the first place. I suspect he was well aware of how the Roman reacted to such situations, but his overall strategy probably had more to do with feeding his men. Stuck in one place, he had no logistical setup to keep his men fed and watered thus in order to forage from the local area, he needed to move around. Regarding the crucial metal bits, that sounds more like modern thinking to me, though I can't discount the point. There wasn't an industrial base to produce standard fittings thus having hinges and brackets would mean odd bits and pieces rather than an Acme Catapult Kit. They never bolted things together as we do now. Everything dovetailed or slotted together, thus the iron bits weren't as necessary as we might imagine, being more of a useful convenience than a requirement. Ancient artisans were probably well capable of producing whatever bits they needed if they had the raw materials, given enough time, which I note sieges do allow you, Nowhere have I seen any evidence of catapult parts, either literary or archaeologically, and given the lack of preparation that Hannibals initiative entailed, it would be unlikely that such parts existed anyway. I also doubt that siege weaponry was as well made or sophisticated as might be believed. Sturdy, certainly, for practical reasons you can probably think of yourself. When discussing larger siege items we are talking about about weapons made for one purpiose, to attack the fortification, and thus the need to transport them afterward is not a consideration. A useful factor when realising how heavy these artillery pieces were. Having said all of that, once the process of siege warfare begins, scavenging and re-using metal parts might well have been an accepted practice. It's just that I don't read anywhere of such things taking place. Rome seems peculiarly unprepared, although I confess that's an impression rather than a studious appraisal. It was almost as if they realised with horror that they really were in danger of being sacked. Unthinkable! In theory there was a great deal the Romans could have done in the three days it would have taken Hannibal to arrive. That however requires organisation and control, which for a city in panic was unlikely even with Roman skills in such areas. Furthermore, a certain proportion would have fled the area surely? There's only so much you can carry. I accept what you say about the limitations of forced marches. Nonetheless, before the days of military equipment as we expect today, soldiers tended to travel lighter (armour and weapons aside), and we do see some remarkable examples of how quickly entire armies were able to march long distances. That probably glosses over the difficulties they encountered along the way.

Just building the tension. Sorry about that.

I woke this morning to discover that bruises have a life of their own. Sounds strange? Well, the bruise obtained in my argument with a door the day before has now migrated from a large lump over my eye to a black ring around it. Oh no. I have a black eye. I look like like I've done ten rounds with Mike Tyson, though in all fairness, experts would probably note I only have one bruise thus did not last beyond one punch. Doors are tough opponents. What bothers me though is that I nearly achieved a fifty year unroken record for not getting a black eye. Now look. I'm the same as everyone else, except that I wasn't drunk when it happened. Will They Or Won't They? The tension was mounting. Would the department store ring me or not? Would I be offered a fast paced and rewarding career in furniture removals, or be cast aside as a worthless loser by high street consumerism? This is nailbiting stuff. A failure brings a risk of further humiliation from the Job Centre, who have already sent me another accusation that I didn't apply for an offered vacancy. They don't ask whether you applied or not. The office have no record of it, so you haven't. Please grovel, apologise, and make some useless explanation before they decide to stop your money. They've done this sort of thing before. No matter. The form is sent off, along with evidence of application and one of ny trademark 'irate citizen' letters. Actually, humour aside, this sort of things bothers me immensely. English law is supposed to based on the principle that you're innocent until proven guilty. Apparently no-one told the Department of Work & Pensions about that. tThe Finale To Caldrails Big Interview The votes are in, the phone lines are closed, and now the golden envelope is passed to be read out in front of the audience... Todays winner of Department Store Recruit of the Year 2011 is.... Not me. Not invited to the induction. Do not pass Go, do not collect

Siege equipment was not essential. Lacking such things, and let's be honest, most ancient armies built siege equipment in situ and as required if they knew how, then simply waiting for the city to starve was still a viable tacttic. Rome was after all in state of panic already (something Hannibal might not have known). Strategically the city of Rome was a tempting target but Hannibal chose to stick with his game plan. For a man with a known hatred of Rome and one who basically set of the war as an excuse to get at them, it must be said that not wanting to hurt his enemy by sacking a vulnerable capital does look odd.

They say that the fish rots from the head. Usually this is pinned on the caesars (and not without reason), but I do think we have to consider the upper class of Rome as a whole guilty party in this. The thing is, during the principate the patrician class were deeply involved in politics and from a distance, trade. They were a sort of manorial manager class in effect and kept things under control. However, as time passes, the old order dies out for various reasons leaving behind 'new money' un their place, and it was said that most of those later patricians were the descendants of former slaves rather than inheritors of noble blood. That doesn't necessarily mean a drop in expertise, but I'm inclined to believe that in this case, that's more or less what happened. Patricians of the later empire seem far less concerned with duty and career, more with feathering their nest. It's as if they saw what the old guard got up to on the quiet and made that their primary objective once they were in charge. Certainly the factional rivalry was worse than in previous times. Therefore the older control of trade was gradually eroding and Diocletian saw a need to bolster the oversight of trading in the empire, which as I said before was not well regulated in any case unless tax revenues were affected. Roman traders were too opportunistic to be swayed by rules and since success in the Roman Empire was all about risk, it perhaps comes as no suprise that traders weren't too observant of the rules.