Friday, November 8, 2024

Snail Update

 I hate meeting with the controllers who oversee this blog.  Who would have thought that selling my soul would result in a group of eldritch and frankly somewhat bizarre powers from what I suspect is a definitely second rate plane of existence dictating what I write.  Still you make the deal and you take the consequences I guess.  It was a little late to point out I hadn't intended to sell my soul but simply got a wrong number while trying to order pizza.

"We are disappointed in you," boomed a voice that seemed to come from everywhere.  Not for the first time I regretted introducing them to public address systems.

"Disappointed?" I asked, I wasn't surprised.  They rarely summoned me to pat me on the back for a job well done.  And since I don't particularly like being patted on the back by a tentacle that was just fine with me.

"Your blog is a tedious repetition of after action reports and travel stories.  There is no excitement, no controversy.  Nothing changes."

"Another way of saying that is I'm consistent."  I needn't have bothered.  I won't say they don't have a sense of humour I just don't think I want to witness the sort of things that make them laugh.  "I just posted another after action report," I offered.  A second voice interrupted the first.  If pleurisy could speak its voice would sound like this.

"We have had enough of these things.  We desire entertainment and information."

"Have you tried Fox News?"

"We have some standards."

"Fair enough, fortunately I have good news for you.  A whole new line of blog entries starting today.  They will be informative, exciting and designed to appeal to a mass audience."

"This pleases us," said the first voice.  "On what topic will you discourse?"

"Snails!"

"What the fuck?"

OK, I have to admit that snails was simply the first word to come into my head.  Still it got me out of there with what was left of my sanity intact.  Let's see if I can inject a little undeserved enthusiasm into the below.

Travel out of Brisbane (always a good thing to do should you find yourself there) and head west through Toowoomba and keep on going (always a good thing to do if you find yourself going through Toowoomba) until finally all shreds of civilisation fall away.  Human settlement is limited to wretched little villages clinging to the earth surrounded by vast farmlands.  Here life is, well not cheap given the cost of bringing essentials to the shops but it gives the impression that it should be cheap.  On and on you go until the horizon blurs in front of your eyes and the occasion patch of unchopped trees leaps out at you with a suddenness you find shocking, particularly if you were meant to be driving down a road.  Slam on the brakes and stagger out to get your bearings.  There you will find that your bearings are fine and the countryside does actually look like that.  Take a closer look at the trees.  Step forward, do you hear that crunch?  It was probably an endangered snail that you just ground into the dirt.

Out here clinging to a tenuous existence is the Dulacca Woodland Snail.  I found out about this marvelous beast while gazing over details of an eponymous windfarm to be located in the area.  The wind farm's soothe the peasants brochure made quite a thing of the Dulacca Woodland Snail and noted that the wind farm was to be built within what was called the creatures "range".  Range?  It's a damned snail, its range is approximately fifteen centimetres on a good day with the wind behind it.

The wind farm's proponents concede that despite the heroic efforts undertaken by the planners an area of over a hectare of snail habitat will be "adversely affected" (translation; built on).  However because the proponents are proud snail fetishists (I'll bet there's a website) they have identified not one but three hectares of nearby degraded bushland that they will progressively remediate over the next thirty years to provide triple the habitation for our endangered friends.  Thirty years incidentally also being the length of time it will take the snails to travel from their current location to this new wonderland always assuming someone tells them where it is.

By the way "degraded bushland" is a pretty broad term.  Pretty much the entire CBD of Sydney could be described as "degraded bushland" depending on how degraded you like your bushland.  But back to the Dulacca Woodland Snail.  Don't worry it hasn't gone very far.  

Despite its small size the Dulacca Woodland Snail is vital to the environmental health of the native bush.  Fortunately there isn't much of that left either so its inevitable extinction won't create too much of a gap.  Incidentally I don't actually know that the snail is vital to the environmental health of the native bush or anything else for that matter (except the snails themselves obviously).  It's just that whenever anything small and not particularly appealing gets threatened and the general consensus is that this is perhaps a species that we can bid goodbye to without too much in the way tears some environmentalist jumps up to point out that all life on earth will perish if the damn thing so much as catches a cold.

Let us therefore bid the Dulacca Woodland Snail bon chance as it sets out on its thirty year journey just down the road to a new and brilliant future.  I predict in a few generations time the Dulacca Woodland Snail will be so prolific that we will need to organise culls to stop them feasting on small children and rampaging (very slowly) through local towns.


Silly After Action Report - Mook Point

 Captain Hank O'Hare gave the war correspondent a look of contempt.

"No we're not the Screaming Eagles, we're the All American. Christ don't you guys do your research?"

"This is me doing it," muttered the correspondent sullenly.  He looked around at the stands of pine forest covering the surrounding countryside.

"You say you're here covering the artillery?  What exactly can they see?"

"Shut up," suggested O'Hare.  "We're in the airborne.  We don't worry about pine trees, we hurl ourselves into battle from the skies."

A couple of nearby airborne soldiers nearly choked at this, for starters they were glider men and secondly it had taken three of them to drag the captain from the LZ to something approximating the front line .  The correspondent, however, looked impressed.

"Hurl yourselves into battle from the skies.  Can I use that?"

A benevolent smile creased O'Hare's features, "Of course you can son, always glad to help out the press."

The correspondent trotted off clutching his notebook.  One of the airborne soldiers rolled his eyes.

"Screaming Eagle?  He's more of a Whimpering Goony.  Have you told him the Germans are attacking yet?"

"I thought it would come as a nice surprise," replied his comrade. 

For our next game Dave presented Scenario AP116 - Mook Point and suggested I take the Americans.  The scenario sees a group of American airborne personnel attempting to defend an artillery position from a bunch of numerous but second rate German attackers.  As aforementioned Americans I am defending a ridge nestled among pine trees (playing hell with line of sight) and by extension a small collection of buildings behind said ridge.  The Germans have to win either by clearing all good order American MMC off level two ridge hexes or capturing more of said buildings than the Americans have good order MMCs on the ridge.  Since the buildings are behind the ridge one suspects that if he captures the buildings he's probably already secured the ridge.

As the Americans I have nine elite squads (all of which can be deployed at start) four officers led by a 9-1, two medium machine guns plus five foxholes and eight concealment counters.  A radio which cannot break down connects the Americans with a battery of 70mm artillery.

Surging forward against the airborne positions are the dubious warriors of the 363rd Volksgrenadier division; twelve second line squads led by three officers the best of which is an 8-1.  They have a single medium machine gun and two light machine guns for extra firepower.  On turn three a small but potent flanking force arrives in the shape of two more second line squads, a pair of elite halfsquads each of which has a flamethrower and two small AA halftracks mounting a 20mm cannon behind their flimsy armour.

I have to admit I was a little concerned about the Americans chances in this one.  I had nine squads but a lot of ground to cover whereas Dave could concentrate his forces at one point or another.  I also had to decide whether to defend forward and run the risk of being overrun or defend on the ridge and concede a lot of ground to Dave at the start.  I attempted a little of both and I think I wound up falling between two stools.  An 8-0 with the radio was of course in a foxhole on the ridge ready to testify to exactly how badly pine trees can screw up your line of sight.  Below is the set up I finally decided on, a few halfsquads and dummy stacks up front.  My 9-1 with a squad and mmg just behind and the rest hiding up on the ridge.  If I had my time again I would probably set up a bit more up front as the force I did have wasn't enough to appreciably slow him down.

My set up, not enough up front.  Foxholes for the guys on the ridge

Dave divided his force into two parts.  His main force barrelled straight down the centre while a smaller but not insignificant force attacked my left.  Straight away it became apparent that I didn't have the force to stop him although my halfsquad on my left did sterling work breaking a HS and sneaking away.  A halfsquad in the centre was rapidly broken and Dave's main force loomed menacingly.

End of German turn 1.  A lot of menacing looming is going on

My radio operator gained battery access and peered among the pine trees looking for targets.  Targets not presenting themselves he settled for dropping a spotting round on a piece of brush which had the advantage of being one of the few things he could see.  I told myself this was a tactic, the threat of the artillery fire would prevent Dave from crossing the semi open brushland and force him to struggle through the woods.  The fact that Dave showed not the slightest desire to cross the semi open brushland was either an indication of the success of my tactic or the depths of my self delusion.  I shall leave it to readers to determine which is more likely.

In my turn I attempted to dig a couple of foxholes up on the ridge with mixed results while retreating such remnants of my first line as had survived to attempt to shore up my position.  On my left my gallant halfsquad tucked a newly acquired concealment counter into its uniform and prepared to unleash fire on the open ground in front of it.  Elsewhere the retreaters were just grateful to be a little further away from the Germans.

End of US turn 1 my spotting round sits aimlessly waiting for Germans who will never come

The second German turn brought a vigorous exchange of fire.  On my far left my halfsquad took out another unit (and his broken halfsquad boxcarred a self rally attempt) and still managed to present a semblance of defence in front of his remaining units.  In the centre his attempts to move forward led to a couple of breaks but in return my elite squad with a mmg guided by my best leader fled shrieking for the rear because a car backfired a mile away.  In the brush my spotting round continued to disturb the nesting habits of certain endangered bird species.

The Germans haven't got much further but there is little in front of them

In my turn I decided my heroes on the left had done enough and they fled back to a newly dug foxhole up on the ridge.  My last line of defence had been reached.  In the centre I did something clever and sneaky (no really) I moved a concealed squad forward and sat it on top of my broken halfsquad in the hopes it would look like an officer sent forward to rally them.  It must have worked because the next turn Dave moved a squad right next to it which was smashed by a 12 flat shot.  Meanwhile my spotting round scored a critical hit on a hedgehog.

End of US turn 2, the last time it looked hopeful

On turn three Dave got his reinforcements which he brought on on the south (bottom) edge of the board to reinforce his flankers on my left.  The added firepower swiftly brought an end to pretensions of a defence in that area.  It wasn't all bad news though, he brought one of his AA halftracks up to my foxhole (now sheltering a pair of halfsquads who probably thought they didn't get paid enough for this and moved into the hex thus preventing the soldiers therein from shooting out.  One of them died in CC but the other immobilised said halftrack and when Dave broke one of his flamethrowers on its first shot I dared, briefly to hope.  In the centre he had got the bit between his teeth and bulled his troops right up to my defenders (despite losing the aforementioned squad).  My spotting round managed to scatter a group of location scouts for the latest David Attenborough documentary.

German reinforcements have added to my woes

In my turn I extracted my forces facing his main attack although what with his reinforcements in the south it was a little difficult to determine what was his main attack any more.  I pulled my freshly rallied mmg team in the north back behind the ridge.  I had determined perhaps a little foolishly that the north could look after itself for a while.  Particularly since I had finally managed to dig an extra foxhole to help protect my position there.  Dave promptly pushed forward against my attenuated northerners and suddenly my decision seemed a little foolish.  Mind you most of my decisions seem a little foolish.  My radio operator having briefly lost contact with his battery occupied his time filling out an environmental impact statement on his efforts to date.

Dave is obviously confident charging into CC in the north

Down in the south Dave had cleared away my defenders and now my radio operator sat alone in a foxhole in the path of a decent chunk of the German army.  The only reason he was still there was because I couldn't find anywhere safer to put him.  Once again I attempted to put a little distance between myself and Dave's burgeoning forces.  The only trouble was I was running out of distance.  Meanwhile my radio operator looked at the array of forces lining up before him with a speculative gaze.

For perhaps the last time I have managed to break contact in the north

Things turned a little better in the north when I won the CC which left a halfsquad sitting with a line of sight directly across where the Germans would have to move.  Of course it also meant that the halfsquad was sitting in the line of sight of a fair few Germans but c'est la guerre.  Frankly he was lucky to survive with a pin result.  I finally managed to get the halfsquad that had been broken at the beginning of the game back to somewhere he might be able to rally.  Others might win awards for bravery but for sheer survivability these guys deserve the Neil's Cross with Poison Ivy Leaves.  Down in the south my radio operator managed to reintroduce himself to the artillery battery and finally brought down a fire mission where it might do some good.  Just for once battery access was my friend and the accuracy was spot on.  A German halfsquad, the only one in the blast radius was broken but the real point was to create a wall of shrapnel between the Germans and myself.

Finally the artillery does something, not much but something

With his approach in the south barred by a wall of flying metal Dave decided the time had come to take risks.  It's not my fault only partly my fault that these risks paid off.  His remaining mobile halftrack rolled around to menace my radio operator.  This was followed up by a halfsquad toting his remaining flamethrower while other troops also skirted the blast zone to put themselves in contention.  Did I do anything about this?  I did, my recently retreated mmg team guided by an 8-1 blasted away proving exactly how useless these tools can be in the critical moment.  Utterly unscathed Dave threw an obscene amount of firepower at my hapless radio operator who to be fair stood up to it all (although he was wounded) until the flamethrower finally broke him.  At the end of the turn Dave asked why I didn't shift my artillery to land on his troops, my radio operator having the benefit of being in a foxhole it might have been decisive.  There was a very good reason why I didn't do that; simple incompetence.  Despite the firepower brought against him my radio operator limped away to well not exactly fight another day.

Well that's the radio operator done and the writing is on the wall

In the next turn my medium machine gun team proved their ineptitude once again before being broken and ceasing to take any further interest in proceedings although the level of interest they had shown so far hadn't been particularly high.  My no longer radio operator dragged himself, dribbling blood, in the direction of a building occupied by troops who up until that moment had probably thought they had a cushy assignment.  Up in the north I broke a squad and then pulled back to a space where I could gain concealment.  This was a stupid move which arguably cost me the game.  The squad in question circled in red below sneaked back to an open ground hex; the thinking was to maintain LOS over the sunken road and the approach path for his northern forces.  What I should have done was move back and occupy the wooden building on the reverse slope.  Failure to do so handed Dave the victory when he did the inevitable in the next turn.

The inevitable is coming

While his troops in the north slowly pushed forward against what I had decided was my last stand Dave proceeded to unleash the inevitable.  His surviving mobile halftrack rolled forward, laughing off machine gun bullets from my defensive position in the north and entered the open ground hex foolishly occupied by my squad.  This was pretty much the end.  There was a little wrapping up to be done with Dave holding some troops in the north in CC while others grabbed another building behind the ridge.  A Parthian shot was fired by me when his flamethrower team tried to challenge for another building.  Not only did I kill these guys but my wounded former radio operator went berserk and limped menacingly after the survivors.  But it was all for naught.  With two buildings under his control (including the one I had stupidly failed to defend) and only a single squad in good order on level 2 ridge hexes Dave gained the victory.

The end.  There is a squad in the foxhole in the north but the Germans have two buildings

This game turned out to be truly enjoyable.  I didn't have high expectations as I thought the Americans simply didn't have the troops to hold out but the game went to the very last turn and if I had won the CC in the north and freed up another unit I would have gained the victory despite my cock ups.  It has to be admitted I lost this one (although Dave played an excellent game).  Many thanks to Dave for the game.  Next time he is going to be facing Italians so he is rightly fearful.

A gliderman turned the page of the latest issue of Stars & Stripes and burst out laughing.  He waved his fellows around.  The article headline leapt out at them.  "Gliderman flees glider in mid air!"  Eagerly he read on, "lieutenant Hunk Au Pair admitted to throwing himself from a glider before battle."

One of his comrades grinned,

"Completely inaccurate and pretty close to the truth.  You can't ask much more of the media than that."