To lead armies into battle is to lead men to war. To lead an army one therefore has to know its men, understand them and their like. As I serve Rome under the eagle standard, I have met tribes and men of different breed and unique manners.
Those who would foolishly oppose the might of Roma Invicta. Those who keep her dear to heart even as they die for her glory. Those who wish be spared from her teeth. Those who seek shelter under her wings. Those who fight for her coin and nothing more.
My father would often speak of the tribesmen and barbarians of the rolling hills in far away Hispania. Where once the Punics held sway over the lands, they founded many cities or so he would say. A place where men of Roman stature would settle and toll their fields.
And he found all of these tribes of men among his enemies in the provinces, as well as under his imperium.
The hillsmen of Hispania he described as sturdy and proud, defiant even in front of the masters of the world. For the good of their tribes they would serve nonetheless against their fellow countrymen and take measure of the land for the X Legion Hispania Invicta. Those who fought to escape the grasp of Rome battled my father with grim determination, slinking back into their hills moments after striking.
Their grudges were as deep as their hills tall. Grudges against their fellow countrymen, grudges against their masters in Italia.
Service in the VI Legion Gradivius has sent me to the hills Samnium and as I would fight the Pentri and the Hiperni, as I stormed Aequum Tuticum and Aeclanum and scaled the walls of Nola, even as I listened to the elders and the wise men of the Samnites, I would hear my father's words ring true again and again.
I saw Iberians and Punics in Samnites, as I fought Gemino I would recall my father's exploits, told so long ago, as I judged the guilty in Bovianum I would recall the festivities my father had been invited to.
Even now, as I serve in Asia against the Hellenes, I see the shadows of the Punics in the men of Sardis and I wonder, if it is the hills and the cities that connects these tribes from one end of the world to the other? That proved the lessons and stories of my youth true and tested?
Does this then mean that to know a man one needs to know his lands and home?
I have led Roman legionaries to battle and I found myself succesful then. I knew their hearts, for I am myself a son of Rome. I have lived on Roman soil and I have lived in Rome, so I understood and knew of their plights and their dreams.
I have led Samnite warriors to battle and saw no defeat. I knew little of Samnium as I entered it, but they were born of Italia the same as me. They lived in the hills the same as the Iberians my father told me.
I have led Gallic riders to battle and trampled my enemies under the hooves of our horses. I do know nothing of Gaul, for I have never seen it and my father would never talk of their lands. It must be a cold and freezing land, fitting their ferocity, their dark woods being ruled by wolf and bear.
I do not know their lands, but I learnt of what they craved. Glory in battle, coins to bring home.
To understand a man, knowing their lands cannot be all there is to it then. Iberian and Samnite cannot be alike just because both call hills their homes.
Speaking to Herakleo, the Greek mercenary, I find little in common with Theo. Where my slave is small and thin, crafty and quick to make the men laugh and love him, the black bearded man is rough and big, dangerous and commanding. To see them is to wonder if they both can be Greeks.
I have watched the Greeks under Herakleo, and they seem nothing alike. Exalted Alexander and his far flung conquest brought Greek men to every corner of the east, and there were always Greeks in the west. Their lands must be as diverse as they are, and yet they are all Greek. Herakleo holds command over them, but even a man far travelled as him could not have seen all the lands of the Greeks.
Is it then as simple one Greek knowing another Greek? They may not talk completely alike, but it's still unmistakeably Greek. They have heard the same stories of the heroics of the past.
But Iberians and Samnites to not speak the same tongue, nor do they think themselves alike. Their stories are not the same. Still, I could see the shadows of the former in the latter.
What does it then mean to lead Roman armies into battle? A Roman of Italia, or from Africa or from Hispania or from Asia, they come from different lands, same as the Hellenes of Herakleo. Is it the Roman tongue and the light of Rome that keeps them Romans? But what of the Samnites and Iberians, of the Punics and the men of Sardis?
Does it not stand to reason that a Roman of Africa knows find more in common with an African when the hillsmen of distant lands can be seen in each other?
How does one keep sway over Roman legions and armies then and how does the Republic and her lands keep together? I find myself pondering this as I serve in civil war and lead Roman armies against the Greeks of the East and their Roman brethrens.