11-27-2008, 11:42 AM
We were not allowed to trench at Castra Romana, otherwise we would have done a trench in front and around the tents and drained it off to the road. No big deal. The price of using the pretty field is that we cannot dig trenches. This is easy to do, but damages the ground. Usually when marching or at single Century events the Signum stays in my (the Centurio's) tent. Not sure for any evidence as to where it was in reality when a single Century or Two was out on the march (or if they even had a standard for under a cohort). The vexillum out front is not the "Real" Vex posted by the Centurio Tent, but one of the extras we use for events to announce who we are.As for Artillery... well, we're not leaving it at home, marching camp or not! Incidentally, the Beast worked in the wet conditions and dry. No swelling issues. Our engineer is amazing.
Now are we really gonna criticise marching camps at events? The tent stakes are modern too. How about the look of all those Brown tents? One is leather... can you tell which?
So here is the "real" Castra Romana 08 story from the Duty Centurio:
We were ordered to repair a section of an arena near Givhans. The Praefectus, always looking for an excuse to find a warm maiden or bribe a few locals went with us. Of course having a senior officer means nothing was done right (he had better ideas). The artillery pieces were towed on our oxcart by a few extra mules along with the Trispastos Crane for repair on the local arena, as we were expecting a possible uprising due to taxes levied to pay for the arena and would not have time to fell trees for the timber. As the mules marched with us it seems appropriate to set them up near the tax table to keep the local taxpayers honest and to cover the trispastos operator and repair of the arena. The Praefect would not allow us to build the marching camp rampart against my strong protest as he feared it would upset the local magistrates with whom he was fostering good relations (as we were encamped in their town "meeting area"... which looked suspiciously like a drill field for Celtic militia to me!). We posted Artillery and extra guards as a precaution, along with a number of standards so there would be no Celtic "confusion" as to who we were (it had happened before). During the night a gentle rain was enjoyed by all, until Celtic traitors diverted a nearby ocean and flooded the camp in several inches of water. Doing their duty, the soldiers watched as their shields floated by. The guard detail, looking like Roman Marines, shortly returned with prisoners captured just after the flood began (the prisoners had obviously been abused by the guard detail, and I awarded them for it.). The Celts, terrified of the horrific thuderstorm that had by now developed, spawned by Mars himself, had surrenderred to the weather itself in what can only be termed an incredible display of cowardice. They were sentenced by the prefect to die in the arena, which we had now repaired. Our wet tunics were rewarded with the sight of Barbarian blood, though true to their weak upbringing the fights were somewhat pathetic. Local Roman Gladiators bested them all. After a few hours drying out, we returned with our taxes, and a bit more besides... enough to cover an incredible feast prepared by our own Roman Ladies, who had thoughtfully followed us with several ox carts of their own... although the prefect had disappearred to "pick up another beautiful maiden" from the Airus Portus... Alas, I fear that the arena will need repair next year as well... at least the Prefect says it will. My duty is but to serve.
For Rome,
Justus Rustius Longinus
Now are we really gonna criticise marching camps at events? The tent stakes are modern too. How about the look of all those Brown tents? One is leather... can you tell which?
So here is the "real" Castra Romana 08 story from the Duty Centurio:
We were ordered to repair a section of an arena near Givhans. The Praefectus, always looking for an excuse to find a warm maiden or bribe a few locals went with us. Of course having a senior officer means nothing was done right (he had better ideas). The artillery pieces were towed on our oxcart by a few extra mules along with the Trispastos Crane for repair on the local arena, as we were expecting a possible uprising due to taxes levied to pay for the arena and would not have time to fell trees for the timber. As the mules marched with us it seems appropriate to set them up near the tax table to keep the local taxpayers honest and to cover the trispastos operator and repair of the arena. The Praefect would not allow us to build the marching camp rampart against my strong protest as he feared it would upset the local magistrates with whom he was fostering good relations (as we were encamped in their town "meeting area"... which looked suspiciously like a drill field for Celtic militia to me!). We posted Artillery and extra guards as a precaution, along with a number of standards so there would be no Celtic "confusion" as to who we were (it had happened before). During the night a gentle rain was enjoyed by all, until Celtic traitors diverted a nearby ocean and flooded the camp in several inches of water. Doing their duty, the soldiers watched as their shields floated by. The guard detail, looking like Roman Marines, shortly returned with prisoners captured just after the flood began (the prisoners had obviously been abused by the guard detail, and I awarded them for it.). The Celts, terrified of the horrific thuderstorm that had by now developed, spawned by Mars himself, had surrenderred to the weather itself in what can only be termed an incredible display of cowardice. They were sentenced by the prefect to die in the arena, which we had now repaired. Our wet tunics were rewarded with the sight of Barbarian blood, though true to their weak upbringing the fights were somewhat pathetic. Local Roman Gladiators bested them all. After a few hours drying out, we returned with our taxes, and a bit more besides... enough to cover an incredible feast prepared by our own Roman Ladies, who had thoughtfully followed us with several ox carts of their own... although the prefect had disappearred to "pick up another beautiful maiden" from the Airus Portus... Alas, I fear that the arena will need repair next year as well... at least the Prefect says it will. My duty is but to serve.
For Rome,
Justus Rustius Longinus
