The whole town has crowded onto the beach. Black sand, black sky: it’s broad daylight but you can’t see anything. Every now and then a roar is heard and the ground shakes. No one understands what is happening.
The rich are shouting orders to their slaves, making them run here and there; to let off their anxiety, I imagine. Look at them there, the aristocrats of Herculaneum: as terrified as any ordinary mortal! Money is no use against an angry mountain, right?
Many people are hiding in the boathouses with the women and children. They lie there huddled like sheep in the fold, waiting to be rescued. But I have been fighting in the legions for too many years to fool myself. Soldiers are made of flesh and blood, not the heroes of legends!

Not even Ulysses himself could anchor in a stormy sea. I can see it from here, the Imperial fleet: it is anchored off the coast. If I want to save myself, I have to do it alone. I have no wife, no children and no old parents to think of. There is only me, a soldier two heads taller than my fellow citizens! What a twist of fate: my loneliness has become my best weapon….
Before leaving home, I put on my belt with sword and dagger, put my work tools in a bag and collected my savings. I am ready to fight for my life, as I was taught!
Forget fishing boats, we need something stronger here. Here, this boat will do just fine. But I can’t put it to sea alone: we need another oarsman and a helmsman.
“Any of you men want to try your luck with me? Come on! Do something, in the name of Rome! No one will come to save you, will you get that into your heads?”
Ah, such cowards… this city is lost.