caldrail

I suppose there's an atmospheric hint of what it would look like, but as suggested above, the chariots are not replicas of racing vehicles used in the Roman circus. Although I was pleased to see the relatively lightweight wheels, the width of the axle looks excessive. Driving practicality aside, these chariots were stripped out vehicles and the extra weight of a wider axle is significant. Remember that the chariots portrayed are essentially two-man vehicles, not single stand racers. I notice they were constructed with a solid floor. Not the case in historical vehicles, which had interwoven leather strips or planks to stand on, again to save weight. Further, the front shield on the re-enactors chariots is for warfare, being an all-round protective screen facing forward. The racing chariot had a much slimmer screen for one person that didn't wrap around the sides. Strictly speaking, a chariot as shown by the BBC might have only been used for training, not the actual race.

Wow... Proof positive that the persistence of cultural feuds can last thousands of years even after the combatants themselves are long gone. Irrespective of my personal opinions on such behaviour, it does seem that the prevalence toward homosexuality occurs when a society is comfortable. In times of strife, struggle, and survival there's a great deal less tolerance toward it, though in fairness cultural traditions can persist for a very long time. Did homosexuals destroy Rome? Erm... No... Politics, economy, health, enviromental issues, and lots of hairy foreigners wanting their share of the good times had more to do with it. But we all know don't we? Seems the italians have other ideas.

Weathermen do love it when things get interesting. Our current spell of fine weather is about to end, and as always, the man on tv grinned mightily as he warned of impending wind and rain. Okay, okay, I heard you the first time, change the cript, please... Today is still sunny. A bit cooler though, and actually the breeze is quite chilly. I was strolling along the local high street on my to the programme centre. A young woman in a red car swerved across in front me, mounting the pavement like it was her own driveway. Excuse me? You're blocking the pavement? "Pardon?" She asked whilst doing more important things like retrieving her handbag from the car's interior. "You're going to have to move the car." I suggested. "Sorry but I can't park there." She answered, pointing at a dayglo yellow traffic cone as she nipped into the nearby office. What? Is that supposed to be an excuse for breaking the Highway Code? Block the pavement and obstruct pedestrians because someone obstructed her desired parking spot? I pity her partner. I really do. Coat Of Arms Occaisionally I pass a newsagent and more often than not a billboard with the newspaper headline is displayed outside to attract punters. If only they wouldn't use headlines months.. One headline I spotted this morning, which is probably old news to anyone who actually bought a copy of the newspaper, is that Penhill wants its own coat of arms. For those that don't know, that's a heraldic crest. Not content with housing most of the drug dealing layabout vandals in Swindon, or forcing taxi drivers to ban fares into that area, or have delivery drivers refuse to enter the downtrodden streets, they want independence. I don't know why they need to ask. Their residents have been marking walls with any number of heraldic crests for years.

What is Roman? From a philosophical point of view that's an interesting question, but ultimately whether something is 'Roman' depends on preconception and education - Rome is in the eyes of the observer. Historians will of course immediately disagree, but beware, because human beings do love to categorise and file information into convenient sections. It's part of our nature apparently. The need to store information that could help our prehistoric ancestors hunt and forage means that we draw associations, meanings, and categories all too easily. In assigning names to periods of history we do exactly that. It's widely accepted that Rome ended in 476, yet if you look at events it's only the western part of Rome that loses the caesars finally and forever. One wonders how things were perceived at the time. Given the state of the empire and the loss of a class of leader for the first time in nearly five hundred years, it's probable that many Romans themselves saw that as the end, though in fairness I haven't seen any such contemporary mention in classical sources. By the end of the 5th century Rome was a divided world. Strictly speaking, the division was only a political necessity to maintain adequate stability, and both east and west saw themselves as inherently Roman, both part of the same empire if ruled seperately. After Theodosius the empire was never again ruled by one man. Was that seen at the time as significant? Probably not, because the Romans didn't have the benefit of hindsight and in any case, leadership was always up for grabs and had changed format more than once in the past. In other words, the idea that the Byzantines were Roman came very naturally to them - because they were Roman - culturally at least. The Byzantine Empire didn't suddenly appear out of nowhere - it already existed in a fledgling state for a century or two, developing independence politically and culturally. To argue that it was a child of the west is a difficult analogy for me to accept. After all, the emergence of eastern power was at the expense of the west - quite literally - and represents a change of focus and power base. Constantine wanted to take Roman power from the eternal city and take to a new capital, Constantinople, and that was eventually the case. Not a child then. More like a heart transplant, in which the donor gradually bled to death.

For the first time this year the museum left the front door open. That proves how nice the weather is getting. In fact, the museum likes to keep the door open because it persuades people to wander in. A closed door is very intimidating for the average member of the public. And they poured in. Four visitors this morning. Rushed off my feet I was. Taking money at the till, providing assitance to vistiors, answering enquiries from the public at the reception desk, preventing displays being nicked, and generally standing helplessly whilst visitors tell me their life story. Young L was a bit late in this morning. Another sign of a bright sunny day? Never mind, he bounded in through the door and proceeded to create his very own brand of audiovisual havoc which only he is skilled in providing. Ooooh look, it's the end of my shift. See ya! Sunny In The City Too So nice and warm is the weather that the pound has surged against the dollar. Not entirely sure what the significance is or whether it impacts on my own particular poverty, but hey, forewarned is forearmed. Too Sunny I've just spotted a news item that tells the public not to waste money in garages but instead do some basic maintenance yourselves. Good advice given the sort of rates garages charge these days. I would be only too happy to while away an hour or two preparing my car for the next mad dash here and there except there isn't any point. It seems too many people have been maintaining my car to suit themselves in the wee small hours. In fact, most softop cars are whizzing around town with the top down. Must be something to do with the weather. I've noticed a definite correlation between sunny days and wind in the hair. Most drive past taking no notice of me. However, one young lady stuck her finger up at me as she drove past. Charming. Haven't a clue who she is, so I presume she's jealous of my fashion sense, or is she upset that I'm not insanely jealous of her expensive silver BMW? There's been a lot of police cars parked around town just of late. Looks like they're enjoying the good weather too. Nice to see them getting out and about. Must be a dreary life filling in forms in an office. "Hiyah!" Came the call from across the road. It had to be Mr J. He's a colleague at the museum, a man for whom life is one long party from start to finish. Always here, always there, always yelling greetings across the street before rollerblading to work or meeting hordes of in-crowders for a lazy afternoon in the park for that all important business meeting. This is all getting out of control. Where's the damp grey days we know and love? I can't cope with this level of sunshine...

Hence the desire to call it the 'Early Medieval Period' instead. Personally I'm not bothered by the terminology at all. Dark Age is fine with me - it's just a convenient label.

For some strange reason I woke bright and early this morning. For a reason probably easier to understand I wobbled dangerously as I overconfidently got out of bed. Oh well, start as you mean to continue. As usual I made a brief glance out the window to check what sort of weather awaits me today. The horizon was buried under thick grey clag, a sort of dark fog, and at first sight it looked as if I was expecting a very damp morning. By the time i was washed, dressed, and ready to take on the world outside my front door, the sky was an almost clear blue. Is this the same day? You'd hardly know. Meanwhile, Back At The Library My first stop today was another interwebbing session on the library computers. Nothing much to report except the presence of Mr Fidget, who seems to have an uncanny ability to find a vacant computer next to mine. Normally he's the most irrating person to be sat next to, but when the town hall clock struck eleven, he clasped his hands to his ears and remained motionless for nearly a whole minute. That gives me a great idea. Who do I see to have the bells ring out every minute? I know, I'll look it up on the internet.... Darn. Can't find anything except everyone elses town hall bells and a great many local pubs. Obviously Swindon's bells are covered by the Official Secrets Act. Maybe I could apply to be Swindons bell-ringer? All I need is to develop a hunched back and sweep Esmerelda off her feet. How hard can that be? Meanwhile, Back At The programme Centre My advisor at the programme centre asked me how I was getting on with my job search. Not too bad as it happens, although today I had to wade through an online application form and they're never quick. Whatever hapened to lightning fast information technology? Typing answers into boxes that contain enough space for six keypresses is not my idea of fun. You have to reformat the whole thing as you go, and as the orignal email tells me, I have to do this today or fail to meet the dealine. How about that for working under pressure? "Have you had any accidents today?" He asked me some anticipation. No, sorry, I've taken the day off regarding accidents. "I imagine so," He agreed, "Since I so cruelly mocked your efforts at negotiating the pavement". Yeah you did, didn't you! I suppose that was some psychological technique aimed at developing my sense of self-worth and creating a robust personality ready to take on the disappointments of seeking employment in a cut-throat enviroment, but in all honesty, it didn't work. He laughed nonetheless.

One aspect of the lack of territorial retention is the lack of urban centrs in Scotland. Unlike today, when just about every inch of land is defined and valued, back then it was settlements, facilities, and resources that made territory valuable. Simply occupying an area had no intrinsic value to the Romans. For instance, Hadrian returned territory conquered by Trajan such as Mesopotamia and Dacia. Whilst he had political reasons for doing so, note that he kept the parts of Dacia that had gold mines. But the important point, which Melvadius has underlined, is that without an urban centre, without the basis for civic organisation, they would have to build a Roman franchise from scratch. They tried that in Germania the previous century and were well aware of the hazards of trying to urbanise (and tax) hostile, disgruntled populations of aggressive barbarians.

Now this is a much warmer day. After a thirty minute walk to the programme centre I was sweating. "Lovely day isn't it?" Said the young lady on the front desk. How she noticed that buried inside her air conditioned laminated trench is a mystery to me. Oh look, now I'm getting sweat all over the floor... My mentor popped into the foyer to collect me with her usual polite cheeriness. She also mentioned what a nice day it was, and obviously concerned at my sweaty face enquired whether I had walked. Oh yes, I replied, I always walk. I can't afford a helicopter. That raised some chuckles from the unemployed lads waiting in the office. Sadly I couldn't entertain them further because their tutor was about to give them a lecture on choosing what to do with their lives. Pointing at the bit on the application form where I wrote about how experienced I was my mentor said "You should put 'sarcasm' as one of your skills." Touch?. I have mastered the lowest form of skill. Learn To Enjoy Haircuts The gentleman who has had his hair cut without his consent has made it clear to the job centre how he feels about it. So they offered to put him in front of a psychiatrist so he could learn to like it. I wonder if the politicians who enacted todays changes in benefits rules know exactly what goes on in job centres? Gag of the Week Most of the jokes you get on the internet are pretty terrible. Like mine for instance. But one of the shaven heads at the programme centre found this one while he searched the world wide web for a job. What do you call a donkey with three legs? A Wonkey.

It is true that Roman conquest was often inspired by natural resources or the potential booty and tax revenue. Obviously with such low population densities and extensive wilderness the Romans had little reason to consider territory as valuable in its own right. That's a good point about the problems in Dacia but wouldn't it make more sense to move troops closer to the trouble area? After all, even with the much vaunted roads, the Romans did not have access to modern logistics thus strategic redeployment was not extactly rapid. The costs of building military forts and castles isn't what you imagine. Unlike the later medieval castles, the legions were not paying civil artisans to build it, nor were they paying land owners for the right to erect fortificartions. I'm not saying it didn't involve expense, but the legions were kept busy as labourers during such construction work. Labour costs have always been the worst expense of any construction project So for instance wood was obtainable locally without anything more than soldiers pay and tools, most of which were already paid for.

If you ask around I don't doubt for a moment that you'll find those who think I'm wnot quite right. Partly that's down to my Londonian genes, which grate irritably on the Swindon herd. Partly it's down to my individualism, something else the Swindon herd doesn't comprehend easily. On the other hand, I have a strange exotic ailment normally only reserved for celebrities trying to get out of the jungle. What is this strange ailment, you might ask? Some of you will be muttering various causes of my discomfort already, but no, you're wrong. It's just simple klutziness. And how did this ailment affect me? Well, I was on my way back to the programme centre for another days internetting when I spotted my advisor leaving for his lunchbreak. Oh no, he's not going out for doughnuts without including me on his list of grateful consumers. I was about to regale him with my demands when I spotted a car approaching and keen not to get run over, I concentrated my efforts on reaching the other side of the road first. However, with one foot on the pavement I turned and mentioned to him that 'plain' was perfectly acceptable for my lunchtime doughnut. He laughed. He actually laughed! Is that cruel or what? But sadly I was not concentrating on walking anymore, so my other foot tripped on the kerbstone. Worse still, my rucksack slid off my shoulder due to the impact and pulled me forwards. It was one of those moments where you know what's going to happen but you're helpless to avoid it. I fell over. My advisor laughed even more. Life can so cruel. Life Gets Crueller Still Another road to cross on my merry way. I've had a bit of practice at this over the years and pride myself that I can do this dangerous task unassisted. Sadly I was being so expert and careful I forgot how close I was to a roadsign in my way.... Hey! Which idiot put this sign here? The drivers of cars passing by were most amused. Life Gets Incredibly Cruel For the most disastrous of all my clumsy escapades, we now go back a decade to the glory years of my flying activities. I had taken a young lady friend for a joyride in a two seat Cessna and believe me, those cockpits are snug. The flight had gone well and I parked the aeroplane on the grass apron, shutting down the fuel and electrics as the propellor clattered to a halt. There's an odd silence after an aero-engine is switched off. The noise inside the cockpit is a loud roar and you sort of get used to it after an hour. I turned to my companion and advised her to be careful on getting out of the aeroplane. The step is quite small. Miss it and you'll fall over. She waited and listened dutifully as I unstrapped and got out. I missed the step completely. Yes. I fell over.

It was a conquest too far, for two reasons. Firstly the north of England was not entirely secure thus occupying Caledonia was always going to logistically risky. Secondly, Tacitus claims that Caledonia was conquered because Agricola was a relation of his and wants to enlarge on his achievements. Furthermore, a succesful general returning to a triumph in Rome was a threat to Domitians popularity, thus the conquest was abandoned on political grounds.

By that logic you could include Sulla as well. The main reason for me to disagree with you (and Suetonius) is the fact that Caesar spend most of his rule fighting for control over the Roman state and the time between the victory in the civil war to his assassination was too short to have a real affect of the work of the Roman state. In the end, just like it was with Sulla, after his death the state return to square one and the old battles between the nobility return as well. A disagreement? Oh no... Seriously though there is a difference, and Sulla fails to qualify for the emperor club because although he was for a while an autocratic ruler of Rome, he was not given the role for life. Since Suetonius was referring to 'Caesars' rather than 'emperor' (Our word, not theirs), it was not possible for Sulla to have become Caesar before Gaius Julius set the precedent. You could argue that Sulla had set a previous precedent. Okay, in a way he did, but bear in mind Sulla apparently had no long term intention to rulke Rome once he had put it back on its feet, at least as he saw it. There was no sense of ownership in his initiative however rebellious and tyrannical it may have been. Instead, it was Gaius Julius and his successors who took possession of the empire without any intention of letting go of power.

All weekend the library computers weren't working properly. What a disaster. it seems the whole community is utterly dependent on the facility and hordes of disappointed library-goers left the building despondently for two days, including me, aklthough in fairness I was a bit angrier than most. When the problem emerged on the saturday morning, it was my least favourite librarian on duty. He makes a big show of trying to be helpful, but when you actually ask him for help, the answer is always the same. He doesn't know. Aaaargh! The man is such a transparent waster. And on saturday morning, he was hovering over me as I frantically tried to log in, hoping for another chance to demonstrate his willingness to assist customers. No, I'm sorry, I'm not giving him another excuse to tell me he can't help. Sunday was a brief visit. The lady on duty looked confused and helpless as she apologised to those of us who had trudged upstairs. Still not working? Nope. Right, I'm off, before that oaf makes an appearance and tries to tell me he can't help. Now it's monday morning. To be honest, I didn't hold out much hope of logging on today. Instead, I went upstairs and immediately sat down to read magazines. The librarian on the desk gave me a cheery greeting. Eh? What's going on here then? She even made an effort to alert those of us who had bothered to turn up that the computers were working again. But then, she probably knows how to help customers. To Rain Or Not To Rain? Today is one of those days where you never quite know if you're going to get a soaking, and probably you will because you'll eventually shrug and go out without any weather protection. The sky is obscured by a a pale layer of cloud, backlit by a creamy glow from my vantage point, beneath which ragged dark grey clouds drift ominously past. Will Cladrail get wet today? Stay tuned for updates, on the hour, every hour, unless you've better things to do like shopping, taxiing the kids around, bonking the missus, or shouting on the street outside my home. Oh there are times when I really do wish it would rain...

In terms of British experience, to which the phrase 'Dark Age' actually belongs, times were indeed quite tough in some respects. On the one hand, agriculture was set back on its heels by the collapse of markets and the villa system, and it took hundreds of years (with some disasters along the way) for rural prosperity to return. The balkanisation of the british isles did the region no favours with foreign tribes looking at the fertile farmland and wealthy christian centres somewhat avariciously. The problem is that we assume the Dark Ages were uniformly bad. That's a false assumption because we know from Gildas and others that fortunes for the british waxed and waned. Yet the dark age record shows a civic, economic, and political restoration inprogress throughout the period, set back only by the arrival of hostile forces and weak leadership. In theory the balkanisation of Britain, the breakup of the sub-Roman world into warring petty kingdoms, came to an end with Ecbert's domination of the kingdoms in the early ninth century. Athelstan reasserted the english throne (and some claim he was the first king of England, which conveniently ignores that fact that the other english kingdoms had accepted Wessex as overlords since Mercian power was destroyed in the wake of the Battle of Ellandun). During this period we have a series of lawmakers, Ine and Alfred in particular, both of whom followed Constantinian principles in underpinning their edicts with Christian affiliation, and although the isles were effectively recolonised by catholic missionaries we mustn't forget that irish christianity was already strong and exporting it's beliefs to the continent.. We see farming becoming more productive, more profitable, and architecture evolving in sophistication and scope. We see the english navy becoming a national institution for the first time, helping to safeguard coastlines and trade routes against pirates or raiders, and in case, we know that travel to and from the continent was a regular and apparently trouble-free event. Was the medieval world moribund? Certainly not. Okay, it had bad times, but then the classical period wasn't always sweetness and light. Now I would agree it was largely a time of ignorance and violence, but that was the nature of society back then and since when was the ancient world entirely a safe place? The fact remains it was the medieval period that saw western europe drag itself back to prosperity - and lets not forget - the Renaissance didn't happen out of thin air.

There seems to be a fashion for describing ancient armies in modern terms right now. That's not something I recommend because it introduces concepts and ideas that are anachronistic and unrealised by people in classical history. Personally I think imposing modern concepts and behaviour on classical times is one of the worst mistakes you make. Multifunctional? What exactly is an army used for? To defeat opposing armies, conquer territory, and keep the peace afterward. In what way were the Assinians different? Rapid deployment? That was an alien concept in classical times. Certainly getting somewhere before the enemy was a useful idea and one often employed, but essentially your army moved at two speeds - march and forced march. In general, cavalry kept pace with infantry because they needed to remain part of the whole and in any case, horses are not machines and get tired too if ridden at the trot or gallop excessively. In what way was rapid deployment facilitated? The Assinians went places as fast as anyone else could. Assault Chariots - Chariots are not tanks. They do not 'assault' the enemy. The idea of a chariot is a fast moving vehicle for throwing missiles and intimidating the enemy. One at a standstill, the chariot is all but useless. Chariots attack by riding along a side of an enemy unit, forcing the troops back in the same way a cavalry charge threatens their well-being, and in the case of those chariots fitted with scythes, to take out a number of troops too slow to get out of the way. In other words, chariots mount harassing attacks, not assaults. Psychological Warfare - The ancients had no psychologists to advise their leaders and thus using the term is giving the Assinians techniques they never had any idea of. That doesn't mean they didn't try to reduce the enemy morale by one means or another, but that tactic was in common use anyway. Army leaders everywhere were well aware of the necessity to maintain morale, and how vulnerable an opposing army could be if their morale suffered. Incendiary weapons - Fire has been a factor in warfare since mankind invented it. Granted the use of substances to incite conflagrations was rare as opposed to the direct use of fire, but that depended on there being people who had discovered that technique among them - it wasn't a cultural phenomenon. The Romans have a reputation for being 'a military machine'. I used to say the same things, but that's a rather impersonal and mechanisrtic view of their campaigning. Granted they were better organised than many other forces but to see them as utterly efficient and obedient is no more than a fantasy. They were anything but. In fact, the legions were in some respects a necessary evil in Roman society and the Romans themselves hint at that attitude. Without strong leadership the legions quickly devolved to little more than an armed rabble. If you study their command structure closely, you will see that the obedience of the Roman legion depended more on social superiority than military authority, although a few lashes of a vinestaff usually kept order when the politician leading the legion found troublemakers among his warriors. There are some that will argue that there's no functional difference between fighting now and then. That's an idea that relies utterly on emphasing the similarities between era's and ignoring the differences. The Roman legions may have been better organised than other military factions of the time, but they were essentially doing exactly the same things as their opponents albeit in a different style.

What would you do with a lottery win? With several million pounds in your wallet? I've heard this question asked time and time again. Many people actually tell me they want to be generous and give everyone they like a huge wad of the winnings. Perhaps, but I'm a little too cynical to believe I'm that likeable. Anyhow, Young L, the museums resident football player, was discussing that very question today with the backroom crew. His preferred course of action is to buy a Bowler Wildcat (for those unacquainted with Top Gear, the Bowler Wildcat is a high performance dirt racer). His little eyes glazed over at the thought of it. Bless. I guffawed and told he'll sell it a week afterward. "No no no" he insisted, "it'll outperform a porsche turbo. A hundred and sixty five miles an hour top speed, way cool, gotta have one!" Which is all very true, but where can you actually drive at a hundred and sixty miles an hour these days? Out-accelerating porsche turbo's at the lights isn't going to impress the police either. "Yeah, but you just leave them behind" He dribbled with adolescent glee. He's probably right, but unfortunately the police are somewhat more organised than that, communicate with each other by radio, and if all else fails knock on your front door the following day. Young L began to realise the idiocy of his chosen fantasy vehicle. I further crushed his ambition by pointing out it wasn't a practical road vehicle anyway. Of course when I was younger I had similar tendencies, mostly involving ferrari's, but then I didn't listen to anyone. As for young L, I do hope he doesn't win the lottery. I can't bear the thought of all the other museum staff driving around in Bowler Wildcats. Window Shopping I wonder how many times you've ever passed a shop window and seen something unusual? That happened the other day. In the shop front of a shopping centre premises was a full set of Roman legionary armour, tunic, and shield, tastefully displayed on a tailors dummy more accustomed to razor sharp suits in the latest styles.. Wow. You don't see that every day. Would I buy it? Well, I'll be honest, there's a part of me that would, just for a wheeze. Thankfully on this occaision commonsense prevailed and I carried on about my business. However, just in case you thought I was going to be completely sensible, the local pawnbrokers shop was further down the road. Usually I don't spare it a second glance, but that electric blue guitar caught my eye. Fatal. No, you can't afford it, Caldrail. Cheap price or not, it's an expensive luxury and you can't afford it. Or maybe I can? maybe there's some way of digging enough cash out of my wallet to let that guitar become my property... Some day, it will be mine... Oh yes... Five minutes later I harassed the staff to let me inspect the instrument. Looks okay to me. Here. Here you go. Here's my life savings. "Ooooh" Said the lady behind the desk in suprise as she placed the guitar on the counter, "This is a heavy one!" Stop talking and do more selling please. Finally our financial transaction was done. I wiped the sweat from my forehead and asked if she had a paper bag I could put it in. And it wasn't even April Fools Day! I had to stop her fruitless search behind the counter. Bless. As it happens it turns out to be something of a bargain. Good condition, full bodied tone, plays well, and mine for a third of the recommended retail price. I have become a musical bigamist. Sell this little beauty the week afterward? Oh no.... No no no... Hmmmmm....

The hot topic in Swindon right now is lamposts. The new ones are installed and shining brightly at night already, and as I speak the old ones are being felled like dead trees. It doesn't stop there. I was strolling along the canal walkway that heads north out of the town centre and on toward a trading estate where I intended to spend a few pence on replacing some broken tools. A couple of workmen were spraying the posts with aerosols. Usually that job is left to youths in hoodies, but I guess this was the opposite job, getting rid of the colourful squiggles the teenagers leave behind to mark their territory. I've not seen people doing that before, I mentioned to the nearest workman as I passed by. "It's new for us, too!" He smiled back. How about that? Swindon's brave new world. Rows of bright shiney lamposts as a beacon toward or communal future. Makes you feel good to be alive. Noisy Old Swindon Last night I noticed the rain was drenching our area. Could be a quiet night then? I mean, if the rain was pouring down, surely the noisy element will be safely locked away indoors? In any case, there's something genuinely therapeutic about listening to rainfall. It's a soothing sound, it really is, especially when the mood is less excitable. So I left the window open as I turned in for the night. Ahh yes... Now I'm going to sleep well. HEY!" Yelled someone outside. Okay, maybe I won't be sleeping well tonight.

Not in Vegetius's day it wasn't. That gentleman was well aware of the deficiencies of the late empire armies and wrote a manual describing all the things the Romans ought to be doing, based on his appraisal of activities that various legions had done here and there. De Re Militaris is often used as a model of the Roman legions but it represents nothing of the sort, and in fact, distorts the true picture of how the legions behaved because it includes all the best bits lumped together. Discipline is another case. It was harsh, no question, but this was out of necessity, because in the first place the ROmans recruited virile tough men by preference, secondly that these men were hard to control, being superstitous and naturally unruly, and thirdly because it suited the somewhat brutish command structure of the legion. When properly applied the legions behaved valiently on the battlefield, but if that leash was lengthened at all for any reason the poor behaviour of Roman legionaries soon made itself apparent. The way you describe organisation shjows a clear desire to see a sort of perfection about the Roman legions. This is quite common, but illusory, because I don't believe the Romans used the same pyramid system we do today, nor was it as coherent as you imagine. I've done a number of posts on this subject, so I won't go into detail, but basically it appears under close examination that the Roman system was much rougher and readier than we might assume. Everything revolves around the centurion - he is taking on the role of a war chief of a small raiding band, albeit in a formalised manner. When the ROmans managed events to their own advantage, the Roman system usually worked well enough. Put them under pressure or in a chaotic ambush situation, the much vaunted Roman command system collapses like a house of cards. As for logistics, it worked because the Romans tried to do without it as much as possible. They didn't want to be tied down to vulnerable baggage trains. It may be the case that Roman legionaries marched further than their modern counterpart in most cases, but bear in mind this also affected their battle readiness. You cannot march long distances with heavy loads and expect to as fighting fit as your opponent, and indeed, part of the disgruntlement that led to serious mutinies in Germania and Pannonia was the ill-effect of such a ifestyle. Beware of the supposed professionalism of Roman legions. That has modern connatations that don't apply to the Romans. I agree the legions were 'professional' in that a man volunteered for twenty five years service and thus became an indentured warrior by vocation, but don't expand this to include modern professional behaviour, which was identifiably lacking in among the Romans.

But that's just it - they weren't guerillas - the phrase is anachronistic when discussing the Roman period because it refers to a style of warfare at odds with conventional warfare. In Roman times, the legions were unconventional in that they were organised in a formal manner and their supposedly 'guerilla' opponents were doing no more than mounting raids as everyone else did, and even the Romans did that in their earliest days. The whole idea of ancient 'guerilla' warfare is no more than foisting modern terms and conditions upon the ancient world.

Our recent spell of sunny weather seems to be coming to an end. Showery old Swindon is a little damper today, here and there, usually when I step outside the house. I have to say that today has not been a special day in any sense whatsoever. For the pidgeons on the balcony outside the library, I guess it must seem a bit different. I've just watched two of them having sex in plain view from my vantage point at the computer. The victorians used to believe that mankind was the crowning glory of gods creation. I'm not ascribing to that view, given that human beings are perfectly capable of procreating without divine finger clicking, but I have to say that as a species, we do seem to have made one fundamental achievement in that we've managed to make sex interesting. And so interesting in fact, that some of us like to watch it happen as much as actuially doing it, or in some cases, as the only alternative to rejection. One of my colleagues has just dumped his girlfriend, becoming engaged to another woman the week after. Call me suspicious, but I do suspect that my colleague was enjoying rather more sex than the typical victorian would have approved of. As for the poor lady so rejected, I did happen to pass her by the day she got the bad news. I didn't know about it, so her refusal to talk to me was a bit baffling although in fairness her emotional distress really ought to have clued me in. Now the rejected lady is almost glued to another male colleague at the museum. That didn't take long. Update On Pidgeon Sex It's over, it's all over, the male bird has hopped away. We'll probably have a video replay of that later, but for anyone who is unable to stop their eyes from blinking, there really wasn't much to see. Call Of The Wild I remember our old dog one night, lying down asleep as he usually did on the flagstones by the fireplace. We heard the owner of another dog pass by outside. Almost immediately, our dog became alert, sniffing the air, and let out the most mournful howl I've ever heard. That's how dogs say "Wow, you're gorgeous, can I sniff your bum?" I guess the wolves are better at it.

Spartacus was a criminal trained to fight as a gladiator. He rebelled and escaped along with two other nominated leaders before his appearance in the arena (shortly before if the convenient discovery of gladiatorial weapons in a wagon has any truth). He therefore never did fight in the arena, and notably, the Romasn sources have never mentioned his score or career as a gladiator.

I think the basic problem with this thread is the phrase 'guerilla', which is technically being used out of context. The ancients didn't have the same definitions and categories as we do, and for that reason we tend to assign the Romans as a regular army against, say, a barbarian guerilla force, which is not the differentiation the Romans would have made. The term 'guerilla' warfare refers to harrasement of conventional forces by irregulars. This involves not only direct action such as ambush, but indirect attacks on supply lines and facilities. Here the Roman world is somewhat different from our own. Although the legions were very strong on logistics, these supply lines were for the most part between fixed sites such as forts, whilst legions on the march either made do with rations or foraged for what they needed, because logistics in Roman times wasn't up to the job of tracking and supllying mobile forces. In any case, the legions were more self sufficient than that. One of their strengths was the hiring of tradesmen and artisans among their number, a deliberate policy aimed at reducing dependence on supply and civilian labour, or if you prefer, to improve the flexibility of Roman campaigning. Therefore guerilla warfare is already deprived of a major strength before we even begin, because it's that much more difficult to inderdict Roman logistics, especially since the caravans would be guarded by assigned vexillations or even cavalry screens if necessary. Also, another advantage of guerilla warfare is the relative anonymity of of irregular soldiers. But we aren't dealing with an era of military tradesmanship, even with the apparently more organised efforts of the Romans, and we should realise that since most opponents of the Romans were simply tribesmen with weapons, there is very little diffwerentiation between guerilla fighter and civilian anyway, something the Romans would not have bothered worrying about. They were simply fighting enemies who were sneakier than they were expecting. But to dilute the concept of guerilla fighting even further, it must be clearly understood that although the Romans preferred a formal confrontation, all factions in the ancient world depended on ruse and subterfuge for success to a greater or lesser degree. The Romans themselves often defused aggression among frontier factions by a policy of divisive bribery and reward. One faction gets Roman support, their neighbour doesn't, and the system was used to manipulate the factions of potential enemies to avoid having to fight them all - a policy still used by modern politics behind the scenes. In fact, it might be claimed that if the Romans suffered guerilla warfare, they had already failed.

With rain looming on the horizon I was pleased to see a bright sunny morning. Since my first task of the day was another visit to the programme centre, I decided to take advantage of the good weather and take a stroll up the alleyway rather than down the hill. By this time of year the undergrowth should be starting to bulge along the fence marking the boundary of the old college site. So far there's precious little of it, and instead it looks as if the alleyway has been cleared of foliage. Nonetheless, I did see one spot where the tarmac has burst open as a stalk of 'horsetail' pushes upward to find sunlight. How incredible is that? A vulnerable green shoot of vegetation has lliterally forced its way through half an inch of asphalt like it wasn't there. How on earth did it sprout there? Sadly it won't survive, because it's emerging right in the path of cars turning into the yard, but what a demonstration of the tenacity and power of nature. The trouble is that whilst the alleyway is free of foliage and relatively passable, it also looks bare - a muddy pathway lined with all sorts of discarded material - clothes, bedding, scraps of damp wood, rusty springs, and the skeletal remains of consumer goods. Ahead of me two people were energetically cutting up branches with heavyweight shears. They didn't see me approach and after politely asking to go by, we got talking. Apparently this couple have just bought one of the houses backing onto the alleyway.and being public spirited types, they've already contacted the council about the waste clogging the path. That's nothing, I told them, you should see some of the alleyways further west. Some of those are blocked completely by abandoned furniture. They looked a bit shocked by the scale of Swindons rubbish culture. Not Quite Completed The olympic stadium in London is on the news as I type. It looks more like a Nascar track at the moment because the running oval isn't going to be installed until the assets for the opening ceremony have gone in first. But let's not be finnicky about this - I have been proved wrong - they have finished it on time. Almost.

But that's my point - they did fight guerilla forces. However, they always tried to force the conduct of the campaign to suit themselves. Bear in mind the Romans had suffered helplessness during the Punic Wars and that left a deep imprint on the Roman psyche. After that they assumed a very relentless attitude toward those they wasnted conquered. The Romans were psychologically unwilling to conider 'weakness' by assuming a defensive posture. The problem for the Roman legions was that they were primarily designed for 'conventional' battle until they adapted toward low level warfare in the late empire. They simply weren't equipped, formed, or trained to deal with informal warfare. Therefore their overall strategy, which we see repeated again and again in the historical record, was to hunt down their hidden enemy and force him into a situation where the legions could tackle them on their own terms, such as a set piece battle or more preferably a siege. The means by which they forced this situation were no different to any other power seeking to weed out hostile elements intheir territory - it doesn't take much imagination. The risk for the Romans was that the enemy would mount an ambush or other insurgent methods that would circumvent (or even defeat) their attempts at a succesful campaign. In terms of units the differences really wouldn't impact greatly unless we consider whether they were mounted or not. Since the legions were a 'one horse show', it was only allies and auxillaries that created any diversity in the Roman order of battle, but in terms of patrols, security crackdowns on settlements, or other means of finding and forcing retreat of hostile elements, there was no functional difference in the objectives or the methods used to achieve them.