Walls Come Tumbling Down

Over the next few weeks, Anton and his Uncle Rupert played dominoes every day after school. Anton researched new games to play with dominoes, followed by games of checkers and chess. The only things that ever interrupted them were dinner and homework. Today, however, dominoes would be interrupted by a field trip.
Uncle Rupert had taken ‘Le Car’, his little yellow hatchback, to the long house and to the market. Meanwhile, Anton was at home, stacking his dominoes.
He constructed a tiny black castle in the middle of Uncle Rupert’s table. He also played with his set of plastic farm animals. The Pigs were trying to break into the Cows’ castle. Anton made various war sounds, which included oinks and moos.
Uncle Rupert opened the front door.
“What do we have here?”
“It’s the War of the Pigs and Cows.”
“Are you sure your mother would approve?”
Just then, Madame Marchant joined them in the living room.
“Approve of what?” she asked.
“Nothing,” said Anton.
“Are you having a war with your farm animals?”
Anton remained silent.
“I don’t want you playing war, whether it’s with your toy soldiers, your cows and pigs, or the forks and the spoons.”
“But we’re talking about it in History Class.”
“Talking about what?” she asked.
“The Gallic Wars,”
“I certainly do not think playing war would help you in History class.”
“I think I have a better idea,” offered Uncle Rupert, “Instead of playing war, why don’t I take Anton to visit .”
“Where would that be?” asked Madame Marchant.
“How about Chateauneuf?”
Madame Marchant nodded, “That would be pleasant. I’ll pack a dinner basket for the two of you,”
In no time at all, Madame Marchant filled a basket with cold-cut sandwiches, potato salad, and fruit.
“Arreve derci!”
“Ciao, mama!” repled Anton.
Anton and his Uncle loaded themselves into the little yellow Le Car. Away they went.
The streets of Paris were crowded as they entered the city. Uncle Rupert sped by the Eiffel Tower, the Arc de Triomphe, and many tall buildings. To Anton, they looked like they had been built 2000 years ago. They were built of wrought iron and careful stonework. The tops of buildings were pointed, like ancient castles he had read about in school books.
Across town, the city gave way to the open fields of southwest Paris. About ten kilometers beyond city limits, a street sign read “Alesia”. Just like Meaux, Alesia was a farming town. The roads curled through the hills and valleys until they finally reached the inner city at the top of the hill.
Uncle Rupert, however, continued driving.
The town was not as big as Anton had imagined. There was, however, a giant statue of a single soldier. Well-worn by the weather, the once-bronzed monument was now pale green.
“Who is that?”
“It’s Vercingetorix. He led the Gauls against Julius Caesar’s Roman Army. This is where the last battle of the Gallic Wars occurred.”
“What happened?”
“Julius Caesar and his troops had successfully battled many of the Gallic tribes, including the Helveti in the southeast and the Belgae in the northwest. The only thing left to conquer was middle Gaul.”
“Why didn’t they attack Alesia first?”
“It was just becoming powerful. Vercingetorix had gone to many of the remaining Gallic tribes. He had formed alliances, trying to drive Julius Caesar back to Rome. Unfortunately, the Romans were a stronger, more organized army. They chased the Gauls here.”
Just then, the little yellow hatchback pulled into a drive. An old fort, made of wood stood at the bottom of the hill.
“So this is where the final battle began?”
“In a way, yes and in a way, no. Vercingetorix led his troops to the hill-fort of Alesia. It was located at the top of this hill.”
Uncle Rupert pointed out the city behind them.
“Then what is this?”
“Julius Caesar realized he couldn’t march his soldiers uphill into battle, because it would put the soldiers at a great disadvantage, so he built a wall around the city and laid siege to all of Alesia.”
“So they attacked them?”
“A siege isn’t an attack. It’s a strategy. The Romans were great siege engineers. They built walls to trap the Gauls on the hill.”
Anton carefully worked his way into a long trench built in front of the wall.
“Is this a moat?”
“It’s a rampart, which is like a moat without water. Imagine trying to climb down into the rampart while arrows are coming down at you.”
Uncle Rupert pointed to the guard towers stationed all along the walls.
“While they were trapped inside, the Gauls were running out of food. After awhile, Vercingetorix sent his cavalry to attack the siege walls. His calvary, which included soldiers on horseback, attacked the Romans several times, until a large group finally broke through. When they returned, they found a second wall outside of the first one.”
“The Romans built two walls? Weren’t they trapped, just like the people in Alesia?”
“There were two sieges – the Romans on the Alesians and the Gauls who surrounded the Romans.”
“So the Romans lost?”
“The Romans won.”
“How?”
“Although there were more Gauls than Romans, there were also more mouths to feed. The Alesians could not get food. The siege on the Alesians had already lasted a long time. The siege on the Romans, however, only lasted a few days. Julius Caesar knew it was the most important battle for all of Gaul. In fact, the Battle for Alesia was the last of the Gallic Wars.”
“With all this preparation, I still don’t understand how the Romans defeated the Gauls.”
“That’s why sieges take such a long time. Going through the ramparts, walls, and heavy defenses is too dangerous. Julius Caesar and his army were more disciplined. This was how they won many of their battles..”
Uncle Rupert led Anton back to Le Car. They drove into the city again, this time ready to enjoy dinner together. As Uncle Rupert drove through the city, the car tires rumbled over the brick-paved streets. It was something Anton had seen before, but in Alesia, everything looked like it had been around for generations. Indeed it had.
“Are you hungry?”
“Of course.”
After Uncle Rupert parked the car, he opened the hatchback and retrieved Madame Marchant’s picnic basket. They walked along the city streets, towards Chateauneuf. It looked like an old castle, with round guard towers, wrought iron gates, and brick-lined archways between buildings.
Uncle Rupert led Anton into a small alcove. Anton looked around the room. It was dimly lit by candlelight. Tables were made of old wood. There were ceilings held high with sturdy rafters.
“What is this place?”
“It’s Chateauneuf, one of the old castles.”
“This was around during the time of Caesar?”
“No,” replied Uncle Rupert, “this was built long after the Gallic Wars. I would guess it’s only been around five-hundred years.”
“Five-hundred years?” gasped Anton.
“The Gallic Wars happened over two-thousand years ago.”
“I still think it’s a long time,” replied Anton.
“France has had a long history, full of wars and conquests, sieges and battles.”
“Can I hear another story?”
“How about tonight when I tuck you into bed?”
“That sounds fine.”
Uncle Rupert sat the picnic basket on an open table in the corner. He unpacked pastrami sandwiches, sliced apples, and, of course, Camembert cheese and crackers.
“I think I have the perfect bedtime story,” announced Uncle Rupert, “it’s about a heroic cat.”
“Another story about Nappy?” groaned Anton.
“This is not about Napoleon Cat,” reassured Uncle Rupert, “It’s called “The Master Cat.” I know you’ll like it. Have I ever told you a bad story before?”
“I guess not.”
“Then don’t worry.”
Anton, however, wasn’t sure that another Cat story was what he wanted to hear tonight. As Le Car’s tires hummed on the wet pavement, it lulled Anton to sleep. Meanwhile, Uncle Rupert spent the ride home thinking about “The Master Cat.”