A collection of Italian soldiers stood at a rough approximation of attention as Generale-Maggiore Biscotti Garibaldi gave what he fondly imagined was a morale building speech.
"Today is the day brave soldiers of Italy. For not a single further hour will we tolerate Menton in the hands of the perfidious French. May I remind you of how when our victorious soldiers advanced across the Alps the French treacherously refused to surrender. May I remind you of when we appeared on the outskirts of Menton our friendly advance was greeted with artillery fire. May I remind you that the bastards broke my train!!!" The generale's cheeks were wet with tears. The cheeks of the front rank of soldiers were similarly wet but that was largely because Garibaldi had a tendency to spray as he talked.
"Forward brave soldiers of Italy." The soldiers shambled forward, "not that way, towards Menton."
The Italian soldiers reluctantly turned around, it had been worth a shot.
"Do not forget, the world is watching Menton," announced Garibaldi with a flourish.
"Not even the population of Menton is watching Menton," muttered a soldier somewhere towards the rear.
With varying degrees of enthusiasm (varying from "low" to "nil") the Italian soldiers trudged in the general direction of a largely inoffensive French town. More than one cast a longing glance over their shoulder to where the generale's car was speeding towards Italy with almost indecent haste. Fortunately it didn't have far to go.
After several games where my defeats were so swift and humiliating that they didn't merit a blog entry I prevailed upon Dave to let me try and turn around my fortunes with my beloved Italians. Possibly against his better judgment Dave agreed to play HG-1, Corniche Game. It is 1940 and France is collapsing under the weight of the German blitzkrieg but far in the south east it's a different story. For no good reason that anyone can determine Mussolini hurled his fascist legions against the French border. And that is pretty much where they stayed. At great cost the alpine troops of the Duce managed to capture a couple of hills that the French didn't particularly want. Down on the coast however the story was slightly different. Here the Italian advance actually went somewhere, not far but somewhere. That somewhere was Menton a coastal town some five kilometres inside the French border. This was the furthest the Italians managed to advance. Now the town of Menton lies just in front of my victorious legions (for a given definition of victorious) and my troops ready themselves to seize what will no doubt be the first of many French towns.
All I have to do is cross a river under the forbidding gaze of fortifications high in the hills, fight my way through the town, evict the French garrison and fight off fearsome Senegalese warriors. To win I have to control sixteen multihex buildings (I control eight at the start). Each French pillbox I capture reduces the number of buildings needed by one. By special rule no quarter is in effect, hand to hand combat can be declared and only Italian conscripts are lax for ambush purposes.
I have a large if somewhat motley force at my disposal. Thirty one squads; five elite, sixteen bersaglieri and ten first line form a grey tide which I hope will swamp all in their path. I also have two crews to man a pair of 81mm mortars which are the best artillery support the Italians have since their train got smashed up. In addition to that I had two heavy machine guns, two medium machine guns, five light machine guns, two 45mm mortars, two demolition charges and a radio connecting me to a battery of 70mm artillery. Six officers command led by a capable 9-1.
To defend this little patch of France (the French pinched it from Monaco in 1860 but whatever) Dave has a small but potent force. Up on the hill mass are one and a half first line squads, a leader, two medium machine guns and a 75mm artillery piece. There's also a trench and pillbox for the afore mentioned to shelter in. In the town itself are another nine first line squads equipped with one heavy, two more medium and two light machine guns. Additionally a 47mm antitank gun is present for reasons neither Dave or I could figure out plus a roadblock, two wire counters, four more trench counters and two more pillboxes. Also present is a field phone which connects Dave with a battery of fearsome 120mm artillery. Entering on turn 5 are six elite squads with another pair of light machine guns and an 8-1 leader.
Above is the at start situation. The Italians set up on non-hill hexes east of the stream or on/east of hexrow F if they want to be in the hills. I had a trio of first line squads commanded by my least capable leader ready for a charge across the plateau while three more first line squads were positioned to climb up to the pillbox. One of my 81mm mortars was set up to drop smoke on said pillbox to make the preceding somewhat less suicidal. My hmgs (manned by a pair of elite squads) sat in a building facing the only functioning bridge. An 8-0 with the radio sat next to them. The remainder of my force was divided into two main groups. One group (with both mmgs) was positioned as far west as possible looking to work their way through the trees and flank Dave's positions in the town. The other group was further east, their job was to cross the river far from the action and flank Dave's positions from the east.
Things went almost suspiciously well in the first turn. A mortar plastered his pillbox on the hill with smoke and another gave the same treatment to another pillbox in the village. Far to the north my little group of soldiers tugged their concealment counters about their shoulders and panted towards the pillbox while a group of others climbed the hill from the south. These soldiers found Dave's artillery piece when a 75mm shell screamed over their heads and they found themselves staring into the open mouth of a cannon. Well at least I'd found it.
Back down in the village my 9-1 directed kill stack managed to break some defenders and my flankers plunged into the deep but apparently unthreatening waters of the stream and emerged on the other side soggy but alive. The rest of my force swept around through the woods and started enveloping Dave's position from that side although a squad which jumped into the river opposite a building received an antitank shell where it would do least good and fled for the cover of the trees on the original bank.
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| End of Italian turn 1 so far so good |
In Dave's turn his 75mm made short work of the squads that had rather foolishly camped out under its muzzle but in return my 81mm broke the gun crew thus removing it from contention for the time being. Down in the village the garrison of his smoked out pillbox (a pair of halfsquads with mmgs) moved to the next trench along where my other 81mm would cheerfully blanket them with more smoke next turn. I made contact with my artillery who promptly dropped a spotting round behind their own troops. A sniper would kill my radio operator before he could do anything else. As usual I would have to do this without artillery.
In my next turn I sent a couple more squads up the hill, now that the gun crew was, temporarily, gone I figured I could surround the smoke shrouded pillbox dwellers and swamp them with numbers. It wasn't really my fault that gusts blew the smoke away before I could do it. Soon a couple more squads were fleeing down back down the hill in what had become something of a minor tradition. Meanwhile the squads approaching from the north took note and decided discretion was the better part of valour.
In the village I strengthened my hold on the western edge and foolishly sent a squad in to hand to hand CC with his machine gun teams. I got away with that to a certain extent. I lost a halfsquad and locked both crews in melee. Dave brought down his artillery as harrassing fire trying to hinder my eastern flankers as they attempted to shake out and gain ground. Gain ground they did although cautiously.
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| The grey tide surges forward, cautiously |
In the third turn I reinforced the melee with another squad which resulted in everybody dying in CC which was a net gain to me as it took two French mmgs out of the fight. His harassing fire had broken one of the hmg squads guided by my 9-1 but by that time I didn't really need them. My mortar dropped more smoke on his hilltop pillbox to replace that lost to the gusts in the previous turn. I was sure he had his radio operator in the eastern pillbox and was very surprised when his hmg sprayed my long suffering troops on the hilltop. More broken squads was the result but now my cautious boys from the north came into their own and crossed the ground to leap into CC with his troops there. Meanwhile my eastern force managed to break his hmg team (they had exited the pillbox so they could conduct all round fire) and started claiming territory, and buildings, in the south. With the bulk of his at start force dead, broken or seriously menaced and his reinforcements still a turn and a half away Dave conceded. He later admitted that he had forgotten that infantry can cross a deep stream (admittedly at the cost of being CX'ed) and so had not made any plans for a sweep in the east such as I had conducted. For me it was a rare occasion of, almost, everything going as planned.
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| This is where we ended it. |
After a number of dispiriting losses I was delighted to gain a win and with Italians into the bargain. Many thanks to Dave who bore his defeat with far more equanimity than I would have done. It has to be admitted that while the dice were reasnably even I had the better of any luck that was going.
"Victory!" shrieked Generale Gariboldi tugging out his pistol to fire a shot into the air. The other patrons at the restaurant in Turin ducked under their tables. "With Menton seized we shall march on Paris!"
"The Germans captured Paris eight days ago," replied his aide brushing ceiling plaster off his uniform.
"Oh," said Gariboldi a little deflated, "what should we do now?"
"Relax, have a biscuit."
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