Silly After Action Report - Patton's Prayers

 Hauptmann Friedrich von dem Borne-Identity looked at the report in front of him with growing irritation.

"Feldwebel, what the hell is this rubbish?"

"Today's injury report Herr Hauptmann."

"We haven't done any fighting.  Look at this; two troopers injured when a snowman collapsed on them.  Three men choked on gingerbread cookies and one case of altitude sickness.  Altitude sickness?  We're at ground level."

"That would be Stanger Herr Hauptmann, he gets dizzy going up a flight of stairs."

"This is the fallschirmjager, how did he pass the selection process?"

"Now that the Luftwaffe has run out aircraft being good with heights probably isn't as important as it once was."

A soldier stumbled into the Hauptmann's command post, he was wild eyed and rubber legged and his salute was more a desperate and unsuccessful attempt by his hand to find his head.

"Stanger, what the hell's going on?"

"The American's are attacking," replied Stanger who looked like he was going to be sick.

"Are you injured?"

"No I stood on a firing post and had a panic attack."

Dave Wilson and I are currently going old school and playing some scenarios from ASL Annual 95.  We tried playing The Mailed Fist despite the ridiculously lopsided ROAR results.  We gave the Germans the balance but sadly the scenario turned out to be a hound of the most flea ridden variety and we gave it away after a few turns.  Instead we turned to Scenario A71 - Patton's Prayers.  Here I would command men of the 5th Fallschirmjager division attempting to stop Patton's 3rd Army (plus a little divine intervention) from coming to the relief of Bastogne.  To win the Americans must have a road link, free of any rubble from the south edge of board 6 to hex 3Q1.  As well as rubble the road must be free of any good order German MMCs on or adjacent to said road hexes.  As the German's I'm technically defending a village but in actual fact am defending a road network.  The village is just in the way.

To do said defending I have a charmingly eclectic force of twelve squads, four first line, four second line and four conscript.  They have four lmgs, two mmgs and a panzerschreck.  Leadership is provided by four officers; three 8-0s and a single 8-1.

Representing the US army is the cutting edge of the 4th Armoured Division; eight squads of elite US infantry carted around on seven halftracks of various stripes.  Four officers lead including a pair of 8-1s, they are equipped with four bazookas and a 60mm mortar.  Lest the infantry feel lonely armoured support is present in the shape of four Sherman tanks including two of the sexy upgunned 76mm variety.

Ground snow is in effect, environmental conditions are, unsurprisingly, wet and entrenching is NA.  

The American force has mobility and firepower to burn.  It seemed likely that once I placed my troops I might not get too many chances to move them.  to that end I set most of my troops up adjacent to the road so that they were automatically denying the Americans victory and challenged Dave to drive me out.  The only exceptions were outposts on the left and right to serve as speed bumps should Dave send any troops on a flanking mission.  Below is the scene at the end of US turn 1.

End US turn 1

 So Dave sent virtually his entire force around my flanks leaving the centre to a single Sherman which managed to break its cmg at the beginning of the game and never repair it.  On the right I couldn't resist the target presented by a squad carrying M3 and managed to break the occupants but for the rest I huddled under my concealment counters and tried to look small and unthreatening.  My own moves in turn one consisted of an ultimately doomed attempt to withdraw my picket on the right now that it had had its moment of glory.  On the left I pushed the corresponding picket forward to take a position in a building overlooking his force.  This was foolish and I have no-one to blame but myself.

End German turn 1.  Not much has happened but that's good news for the incumbent

In the next turn Dave tried to get his flanking attack rolling while simultaneously making threat displays with his centre Sherman.  Over the course of the next couple of turns he rolled up and over the hills which overlook the village gradually tightening the grip on my hapless fallshirmjager trapped within.  For my part I did a little shooting and a lot more hiding.  Every concealment counter would be worth its weight in gold as the latter part of the game developed.  Since this was only a five turn game the latter part developed pretty much after turn one.

Gradually Dave ground me out of the forward buildings flanking the road.  The firepower he had amassed on the hills was impressive and my concealment counters weren't enough to avoid casualties.  I had one brief moment of pleasure when my panzerschreck flamed a halftrack providing some smoke to mess with his lines of sight.  A vicious tussle took place for the wooden building on the right where I had a mmg capable of sweeping the hill with fire.  As it turns out Dave was also capable of sweeping the hill with considerably more fire than I could generate but my boys held firm until his centre Sherman finally stopped its flirtation with the single conscript squad I had left to block its path and rolled up in support.

Despite losing both men and positions I was starting to feel hopeful.  Dave's flanking manoeuvre had taken time and driving my troops out of the forward buildings had taken more.  For my part I placed my hopes in two final defensive positions.

On the right a clutch of squads were hiding in the combination of stone buildings and rubble overlooking a vital crossroads and on the left a couple more (although not as many as the concealment counters would have you believe) were hidden behind a stone wall.  Their job was to get at least one MMC back to the trees adjacent to the final exit hexes.

Dave's final push was nothing if not determined.  On the right supported by sleazing halftracks and shooting Shermans his troops drove into (but not quite through) my positions.  On the left he pushed forward driving me back (which had the inadvertent effect of reinforcing my troops on the right).  My troops which had been hiding behind the wall pulled back and wound up hiding in a building instead.  It isn't only bravery that wins battles.  Well managed cowardice is also useful.

One thing in my favour was the fact that not a single German MMC could be adjacent to the road which meant that some US troops had to be diverted to deal with a single halfsquad in the forward location which had defied all reasonable expectations by surviving while its comrades had wilted (wilted means "died").  This pulled some troops away from the final push.

 

The situation at the end of US turn 4

Despite my troops being of dubious quality sufficient of them had survived on the right to occupy his attention and actually grab back a road adjacent building in the final turn.  With that and my heroic cowards on the left (who didn't fire a shot the entire game) poised to sneak behind a halftrack and recover the road there it was all over.  Virtually my entire force was dead or broken but just sufficient had survived to give me the win.  

 

The end and apparently I've won

In Dave's opinion he lost this game on the first turn.  He had forgotten that ground snow negated the road bonus so his forces weren't as far forward on their flanking manoeuvre as he had intended and from there he was playing against the clock as much as me.  Whatever the reason I'll take the win.  Many thanks to Dave for the game.

"I think we beat them," von dem Borne-Identity couldn't quite believe he was saying the words.  5th fallshirmjager wasn't exactly the cutting edge of the Luftwaffe.  Silence greeted his words.  He looked around for his command.  Here and there a combat dazed soldier stumbled out from between wrecked buildings and even more wrecked halftracks.  That seemed to be about it.

"Well at least the next casualty report will be a little less embarrassing," muttered von dem Borne to himself.   He took a pace forward and almost stumbled into a twelve foot deep pit.  Peering into it he made out a familiar figure, entrenching tool in hand.

"Stanger what are you doing?"

"Digging a foxhole," Herr Hauptmann," replied Stanger without pausing.

"You can stop now, the Americans have gone," but Stanger wasn't listening.

Von dem Borne reflected briefly on the utility of anything else Stanger might be doing at that moment and left him to it.

Silly After Action Report - Italian Behemoth

 Tenente Silvio Castanetti looked around trying to get his bearings in the predawn gloom.

"Where the hell are we?" he asked.

"El Sod," replied the Maggiore briefly.

"And the same to you," snapped Castanetti.

"We're near El Sod," said the Maggiore with more patience than the Tenente deserved.  He pointed, "the enemy are in that direction."

Castanetti nodded his understanding and began moving imperceptibly in the opposite direction.  Before he got too far the voice of the Maggiore stopped him.

"When our tanks arrive you'll attack the left flank with your troops.  I'll lead the main attack."

"Left flank right," muttered Castanetti measuring the distance between himself and the trucks that had dropped them off.

"Not right, left."

"Right, left."

The Maggiore stared at him with disfavour, "For the avoidance of any doubt, you and your men will attack on the left.  Do you understand?"

Castanetti opened his mouth to speak,

"And if you say right one more time I'll shoot you here and now."

"Understood," muttered Castanetti sullenly.

"One more thing, our colonial troops expect to see their Italian officers leading them into battle, not hiding behind the trucks until the fighting is over."

Castanetti gave a final despairing glance at the trucks and joined his men who seemed almost obscenely enthusiastic for the upcoming battle.

"Our metal beasts will overwhelm the enemy," announced a Muntaz pointing enthusiastically at a pair of L3 tanks that had clattered up to the front.

"I'm feeling pretty overwhelmed myself," replied Castanetti.

Scenario FT230 - Italian Behemoth seems to be getting a bit of love of late.  Richard Weilly responded to my childish pleas and agreed to take command of the British (actually South African) in this clash of the lightweights in southern Ethiopia.  Here my force of Italian colonial infantry (supported by "tanks") are attacking the company headquarters of a South African infantry brigade.  To win I either have to exit 16 VP off the south edge (unlikely) or take and hold hex 61H3 currently located in the middle of aforementioned company headquarters.

To achieve this I have twelve squads of first line troops (eight 346 squad and four marginally better 347s) these are led by three not very good officers (an 8-1 is the best) and are equipped with two light machine guns and one medium.  Adding slap (punch would be an overstatement) to the attack are no fewer than four L3 tankettes in two platoons of two.  On the defence Richard has a forward post of two squads and an 8-0 with an lmg and an atr plus a pair of foxholes.  In the rear with the gear are another four squads with a medium machine gun, a light machine gun and what must count as one of the clumsiest and most useless mortars of all time.  On turn five (of six and a half) a single Marmon Herrington armoured car rolls on in belated support.  There is a +1 LV hindrance for the first two turns to simulate dawn and give the Italians some hope of crossing open ground with automatic weapons and a mortar pointed at them.

Below is our set up.  The first obstacle for the Italians is a valley that must be crossed before they can even start getting shot at.

Set up

I planned to attack in two forces.  The bulk of my troops with the best leaders and all my machine guns would set up opposite his outpost force along with a pair of L3s.  I hoped to charge forward and break through them early using the tanks to lock up his troops if need be.  Over on the other side a handful of troops guided by a lowly 7-0 (Tenente Castanetti) would accompany the other pair of L3s.  Their job was to race straight for the hill and overrun the mortar position and then start working their way towards the victory location.  Part of the thinking around this was the minimum range of the mortar - six hexes.  Hopefully I wouldn't spend very much time in his firing zone.

My plan was successful beyond my worst nightmares.  In front of his forward post my troops and tanks did indeed roll forward and looked set to swamp him in bodies.  I pushed a forward L3 into a foxhole hex thus preventing his troops from firing out.  Still in motion Richard would need to roll a three to get any sort of result in close combat.  Unfortunately he rolled snake eyes.  One tank was already down and Richard had another officer into the bargain.  The mortar had pinned my best officer pretty much at the starting point.  A squad or two of Italians broke under South African fire and began the long journey towards cover.  On the other hand my hill assault force powered forward undisturbed.

End of Italian turn 1, I suppose things could be worse.

The South African's first turn was an absolute disaster for me.  His mmg up on the hill went on a maniacal rate tear and tore the Italian infantry to shreds.  Of my hill force a single squad and 7-0 were left to me.  In front of his outpost the situation was a little better but not much.  I was almost tempted to concede on the spot but I held my nerve.  Wisely as it turned out, I would have much better reasons to concede later.  The one tiny bright spot was that Richard's troops turned out to be absolutely useless at digging foxholes.

End of South African turn 1, things are worse

At the end of the first turn there were precisely four unbroken Italian infantry squads left in the game.  My attempt to rush his outpost had ended in tears and the bulk of my flankers were gone too.  A number of the squads had ELR'ed into the bargain so a good number of them were unlikely to return.

With my attack in ruins I decided to carry on with my original plan, since I had neglected to come up with a plan that involved most of my force being broken.  Tenente Castanetti abandoned his broken troops and let his one remaining squad up the hill.  The accompanying L3s rolled up and onto the mortar position thus guaranteeing that their sole remaining infantry support would get a free run.  At the outpost what little remained of my force hid in recently abandoned foxholes and shot futilely at Richard's troops.  He began to pull these back as he started to realise his hill dwellers might need assistance.

The main force is broken but the remnants surge forward

Not only did Richard pull back his troops on the left but I actually managed to break one of them as he did so.  Meanwhile up on the hill his squads continued to look at their entrenching tools as though they had come from another planet and, glory of glories, by little L3 wiped out his mortar crew (and killed the mortar into the bargain) in CC.  The world's most ridiculous tank attack was still going strong and the glaring absence of foxholes gave me encouragement.

In my third turn the two L3s rattled forward threatening tinny death to all who opposed them.  Challenging his mmg to do its worst they rolled over the top of another squad.  Richard's defence of the hilltop was starting to look a little thin.  Tenente Castanetti and his lone squad wisely kept out of the way until the scary guys with rifles had been dealt with.  Meanwhile far to the rear my 8-1 swore and slapped his troops as he attempted to interest them in continuing the battle.

All this was good news and good news was needed for at the outpost position things had gone from bad to worse.  I bust the machine gun on my remaining L3 and in the next turn a repair attempt would send it scuttling for the rear having contributed quite literally nothing to my cause.  The medium machine I had dragged all this way broke when I tried to fire it.  For some reason I hauled this useless chunk of iron around for the rest of the game.  Richard withdrew (and rallied) his troops in good order with the exception of a 7-0 (created in his CC) who obviously felt he had already done enough.

News is good on the hill.  Not so much elsewhere

For a brief period things only kept getting better up on the hill.  Fire from an L3 broke his mmg squad (and 9-1 leader) and the number of functional units Richard had up there was dwindling rapidly.  On the down side one squad had finally managed to dig itself a foxhole.  Meanwhile my 8-1 had managed to encourage a couple of previously terrified squads back into the fray.  Although it would take them a turn to reach the fray as it had moved backwards in the meantime.  Richard was withdrawing his troops through the light woods and my surviving forces were risking life and limb by pursuing.  It was hardly a vigorous pursuit and I didn't have the forces for any fancy manoeuvring.

Quite possibly the highpoint of my game

With the mmg squad broken Tenente Castanetti and his men suddenly became very brave and raced across the hill (while still keeping out of the way of the other defenders) to position themselves next to the brokies and persuade them on their way.  My L3s still proved themselves to be the worlds most improbable masters of the battlefield overrunning another squad and leaving Richard with only one surviving squad on the hilltop.  My 8-1 urged his recently rallied charges forward and now I actually had a decent force pushing through the light woods in pursuit of Richard's defenders.  Richard for his part rather than reinforce his hill troops now needed to prevent my guys from getting up there themselves.  His troops made their stand in the light woods near the base of the hill and did not disappoint him.

Ignore the broken squads littering the field.  The Italians are pressing

Then disaster struck.  A couple of disasters actually.  One of my hero L3s broke its MA and suddenly my force on the hill was reduced to a single L3 and a 346 squad.  My attempts to push forward against Richard's defenders in the light woods had produced nothing except a litter of broken squads.  Richard had only one unbroken squad there himself but I only had two (one turn ago I had four).  My 8-1 leader had followed his troops in fleeing for the rear, fortunately the rear was now a lot closer.  Then Richard's 9-1 rallied a squad up from DM and I knew my days were numbered.  My gallant 7-0 (ten. Castanetti) was pinned by their fire.  In desperation the squad advanced up to the open hilltop to possess themselves of the British mmg.  This move would be their downfall.

Richard still had one squad up on the hill, not coincidentally the only one that had managed to dig a foxhole.  My squad was blocked from it by an L3 (sitting on the victory location) and I dared hope that I could survive a 4+1 shot should one come my way.  I was very very wrong.  And now Richard's cavalry was coming.  Four L3s can laugh at a single Marmon Herrington AC but I now only had one with functioning MA.  Things started to look very bleak indeed.

Richard's foxhole dwellers broke my 346, his armoured car rolled on parked in front of my L3, rolled snakes in advancing fire and destroyed it.  I was done and tearfully gave my concession. 

In truth I had been operating on a shoestring since that first turn.  The only reason why I got as close as I did is because of a bunch of lucky rolls from my L3s which pretty much cleared his forces from the hilltop with no loss.  But I barely had any force myself.  A single squad and an L3 who's MA is bust do not a force make.  Once Richard rallied some troops and brought on his armoured car the essential weakness of my position became clear.

Defeat at the end.

 Despite the outcome I thoroughly enjoyed this game.  Particularly the part in the middle when it looked like I might pull off the most unlikely of victories.  Many thanks to Richard for the game and for setting an example of good behaviour when the dicebot goes against you.  It is not an example I intend to follow.

Tenente Castanetti crept from one inconveniently spaced tree to another doing his best to avoid the attention of the South Africans on the hill.  Glancing fearfully over his shoulder he almost tripped over a soldier in front of him.  His hands went up automatically but then he heard the Maggiore's voice.

"Keep quiet you fool."

The Maggiore was pale faced and trembling, around him his soldiers cringed and jumped at every sound.

"I got up onto the hill," said Castanetti.

"I know," muttered the Maggiore.

"Could have captured it if I'd had a little more support."

"All right all right.  Point taken, what do you want to shut up about this.  Decoration or a promotion?"

"I'm thinking both."

"Capitano Castanetti MAVM.  Happy now?"

"I look forward to serving under you in future Maggiore."

"And I look forward to writing your parents a letter."

Silly After Action Report - Blockbusters

 Lieutenant Frank Devious peered down the overgrown track.  Somewhere up ahead was a roadblock or more accurately a trackblock manned, no doubt, by battle hungry Japanese.  Nothing could be seen except a bunch of suspicious looking question marks.  Still the attack was to proceed.  He stared at a group of his men struggling to position a large green sheet of cardboard above them.  On it was painted a crude question mark.  Devious wasn't sure whether this was an effort at concealment or a nod to the latest Batman movie.

"This attack is important," he told himself reaching for his own question mark.  "If we manage to break this trackblock..."

"We're still going to be stuck in a nameless village surrounded by Japanese," came a voice from the undergrowth.

Devious jumped and looked around wildly.  All about him a bunch of question marks gazed innocently at the sky.

"Who said that," he demanded.

"He did," replied every question mark in unison.

Devious decided not to bother.

"All right, everyone move out."

There was an outbreak of swearing as question mark collided with question mark.  Up ahead yellow question marks could be heard sniggering quietly.  And so the attack began.

Richard Weilly and I played Scenario A115 - Blockbusters a few weeks ago.  This is one of the scenarios from the Nhpum Ga mini that was included in ASL Annual 97.  Here I shall command a bunch of elite but somewhat desperate men of the 5307th Composite Unit (Provisional) as they attempt to clear a bunch of Japanese from a blocking position that had surrounded them.  To win I had to ensure that all hexes on/adjacent to the trail were free of unbroken Japanese MMC while simultaneously ensuring there was no sneaky infiltration of my set up area.

To achieve the above I had eleven elite squads led by a trio of officers including a 9-2 (who astonished me by surviving until the end of the game), a heavy machine gun and two mediums.  Richard on the defence had eight squads evenly split between elite and first line plus a crew for their very own heavy machine gun.  A pair of officers including a 9-1 commanded the defence and support weapons were rounded out with a trio of light machine guns and two of the ubiquitous 50mm mortars.

Beating the Japanese wasn't my only concern.  First I had to get to them.  Interior jungle hexes were dense which limited my capacity for fancy movement.  I looked at the map and realised I had few options.

Here is our set up before we added the concealment markers

As you can see I have bulked up at the bottom of the board closest to the trail while a scattering of other squads were intended to prevent Richard from any sneaky movements into my set up area.  These guys would ease forward into the gully and struggle out the other side.  Near the trail I sent a sacrificial halfsquad charging forwards hoping to attract some attention but Richard's fire discipline was excellent and his troops glowered out from under their concealment counters daring me to do my worst.

End of American turn one.  I'm treading on Richard's toes and have built a couple of impressive fire bases

In his turn Richard declined to stand and fight like a man.  With the exception of one shot that broke an American unit getting just a little cocky the remainder of his squad skulked and shuffled to the rear proudly maintaining their concealment counters as if they were badges of honour.  I essentially had to start again.  I was somewhat closer but also with a turn less to achieve my goals.

End of Japanese turn 1, they can't run forever

Richard may have successfully skulked for a turn but that also meant that the bulk of my force had closed up and there was very little space left for him to trade for time.  I lost my bold halfsquad to the first close combat of the day.  I was already feeling a little stressed.  Time was passing still the time was coming when he would either have to stand his ground or surrender the path to me.  Either was ok as far as I was concerned.

End of American turn 2

Come my next turn I was ready to go.  Having finally decided that Richard wouldn't be infiltrating anyone into my set up area my gully dwellers pressed forward into the jungle while halfsquads stripped concealment (at a certain cost in lives) and American firepower managed to actually stripe and break a number of Japanese MMCs.  I wasn't crazy about close combat (this demonstrating a rare flash of intelligence) but I was bullying his front line while my hmg team (with 9-2 in tow) engaged in what they fondly imagined was a flanking manoeuvre.  For the moment things looked quite good.

Have you ever seen so many broken Japanese units

The trouble with broken Japanese is that if there is a leader present they don't tend to stay broken for long and in his turn Richard managed to rally and extricate his force once again.  I was now looking nervously at the turn counter as time ticked away.  Richard had taken losses but a decent amount of his force was still intact and once again hidden under concealment counters.  On the other hand his back was literally against the wall, or at least the board edge.  Going forward he would be faced with a stark choice; fight or leave the victory area.

End of Japanese turn 3.  Time to start all over again.

In retrospect turn four was one of wasted opportunities for me as I settled for consolidating (and regaining concealment) rather than going for the throat.  I did take his mortars out of the game although to be fair they hadn't played much of a role anyway.  Richard is entitled to feel a little disappointed with his mortars.  Normally they're quite a force multiplier for the Japanese but in this scenario they did little to nothing.  I killed one manning halfsquad in CC and broke the other one some distance from a Japanese leader.  They would not swiftly return.

End of American turn 4.  That huge Japanese stack has a hmg in it which isn't going to be pleasant

In my next turn I started to get moving (only four turns late).  Richard had positioned his hmg stack outside the victory area and I was very happy to leave it there.  I say "started to get moving" that was more a statement of intent than reality.  In actual fact I incremented forward a little but now Richard had no choice but fight or flight.  He opted for a little of both.  My main concern was now whether I had left myself enough time for victory.

There's nowhere to run Richard.

Having just gloated that there was nowhere to run Richard promptly proved me wrong.  I had indeed cleared him from the side of the path closest to the bottom of the map (or more accurately he had cleared himself) but then he sent troops circling around to attack me in the rear just when I needed everything to clinch the final victory.  I wasn't particularly concerned that they would force their way through to the track but of course he only needed to get one MMC into my setup area and my efforts would be for nought.  The end result was that a portion of my force would spend the rest of the game warding off that possibility rather than contributing to the final assault. 

Oh, okay maybe there is somewhere to run after all.

So I spent a turn messing about behind the scenes.  The close combat ended in the traditional mutual carnage and I was able to inflict a few more casualties at the front line but I had been stalled.  Richard's threat to my start area was more apparent than real particularly after I managed to pin his squad thus ensuring my start up area remained safe.  Reining in my temper and only swearing a quite modest amount really I prepared my final assault.

Well, that was annoying

With the final turn upon me I looked at his forces.  He had precisely three stacks in the set up area.  I couldn't hope that I would be able to shoot them all to pieces so it would have to be close combat.  I had the troops, I had the leadership I had the desire.  Forward my boys charged.  Richard disdained the fire opportunities in return for the ambush option.  I would  need to win all three close combats to win the game.  I won one of them.  Still I didn't feel too badly about myself.  Richard is a good player and I had pushed him all the way.  I fancy I said something to that extent because then he cheerfully pointed out that he had a HIP unit in the victory area that I had never discovered and I would have lost the game even if I had won all three close combats.  At that point I told him that I heard my Mother calling and I needed to go home.

This was actually an extremely enjoyable game and I don't think the AAR really does it justice.  In my defence we played this game several months ago and I have difficulty remembering my own name.  The game was tense with incremental advances and jockeying for position.  Skulking, sneaking and taking advantage of momentary opportunities was the order of the day.  Oh yes and hiding a unit in the victory location.  I had completely forgotten to search the areas I passed through so Richard spent the entire game essentially attracting my attention so I had no time or inclination to search anything.

Lieutenant Devious gave a weary salute as his colonel approached.  The attack hadn't exactly gone well but he felt that his men had given of their best.  He could tell from the look on the colonel's face that this opinion wasn't universally shared.

"Not a good result Devious," said the colonel.

"It could have been worse sir."

"How?"

"We managed to make it through the entire scenario without anybody making a joke about a video store."

The look on the colonel's face made Devious wish he was still wearing his question mark.

At Last a Blog Entry About Pangolins

 I love the word pangolin.  It rolls off the tongue with a sort of thick, smooth elegance rather like liquid velvet (let's forget for a moment that liquid velvet would be disgusting in the extreme).  The very word pangolin conjures up visions of the exotic, certainly no animal in my homeland has a name like pangolin.  They have boring names like "cow" and "death adder".  The moment "pangolin" is introduced into a sentence one is immediately transported to a place of lush, wild nature, unique customs and strange yet curiously sexy accents .  This transportation happens even if the rest of the sentence is, "I ran over a pangolin with my car."  

So what is this pangolin whose very name arouses such feelings in my breast.  To be honest it looks rather like a crocodile skin handbag given life.  It is low and long and scaly (despite being a mammal).  I can imagine this as its battle cry "All this and warm blood too!"  I didn't say it was a particularly good battle cry but who cares when your name is pangolin.

Pangolins live in Asia and Africa (not the same ones obviously) and their name derives from a Malay word meaning "walking crocodile handbag".  This must cause some confusion to the African pangolins who have probably never heard of Malaysia.

When it all comes down to it pangolins are anteaters.  But they have to be the coolest anteaters in the world.  They're covered in scaly armour and when danger (such as lions) presents itself they roll themselves into an armoured ball that the claws and teeth of predators can't penetrate.  Unfortunately when danger (such as poachers) presents itself they roll themselves into an armoured ball etc etc.  Which means all the poachers have to do is pick them up and drop them into a bag.  This what happens when evolution doesn't keep up with a changing threat matrix.

And there are pangolin poachers.  Quite a lot of them actually.  In some of the more economically depressed parts of their habitat they're poached simply to go on the local cook fire.  The more financially acute poachers however have their eye on the Chinese medicine trade.  Chinese medicine can't get enough of pangolins.  Apparently pangolins are good for your health.  I can't help pointing out that it doesn't seem to be good for the pangolin's health.  All sorts of medicines are made from pangolin bits, mainly the scales.  Whether the scales are particularly medically beneficial or simply the most easy to access bit of the pangolin for lazy Chinese medicine practitioners is something I'm not entirely clear on.

Do pangolin components actually have any medical value?  Opinion is divided; Chinese medicine practitioners say "yes" everybody else says "What?  Are you fucking nuts?"  Chinese traditional medicine does seem to consist largely of hacking a bit off the nearest endangered animal and dropping it into a cup of tea but there's probably more to it than that.  And it must be admitted that while the world may be running out of pangolins we've still got plenty of Chinese.  Lest we lay all the blame for the rapidly diminishing stock of pangolins on the Chinese it must be pointed out that pangolins are also a key ingredient in African traditional medicine.  Again the scales are sought after although other bits are used as well.  

The end result of being a walking cure for all diseases (from lactation issues through to arthritis according to the person who is making money selling you extract of pangolin) is that every sub species of pangolin is under threat.  It should also be pointed out that despite the medical predation the principal reason for pangolin endangerment is habitat loss.  Short of moving the pangolins to a different planet I'm not entirely sure what we can do about that.

We should seriously consider moving the pangolins to a different planet.  Firstly it would be the salvation of the world's only scaly mammal.  How can you argue with that.  But even more than that pangolins could be our ambassadors to the galaxy.  Can you imagine the reaction of aliens if our first spaceship lands and a horde of pangolins came tumbling out?  I can't think of a better way to impress our neighbours in the universe.  Once glance and they would be hooked.

And if they're not impressed we can just whisper in their ear that pangolins are a sure fire cure for arthritis.

Travelling Pathetically - Crows, Snakes and Coastline Edition

 It occurs to me that if you read the title you really don't need to read the remainder of the blog to find out the most interest parts about my latest walk.  For those of you of a masochistic bent however please see below.

My previous two walks around sea adjacent portions of my home city having fired me with a desire to stare at large expanses of water that I can't drink I eagerly sought out another such opportunity for my recent walk.  Eventually I settled on La Perouse a suburb in Sydney's south whose main claim to fame is that it is where the French didn't colonise Australia.  La Perouse is fringed with bush, well to be honest its fringed with golf courses but the golf courses are fringed with bush which collectively make up the northern part of Kamay Botany National Park.  Quite a bit of coastline is included within the park's bounds and this was my destination for the day.

Two trams and a bus having been used to deposit me at the waters edge in La Perouse I wondered briefly if I had time to do the walk and get back before my employers started demanding my attention.  I decided to risk it and set forth.

At start

An expanse of blue water stretched out in front of me.  This wasn't the sea, it was Botany Bay which goes some way to explaining the oil storage facilities across the way in the above photo.  From this position I took a hard left and made my way through some slightly disheveled bush until I arrived at Congwong Beach.  I had no choice but to go to the beach as the walking track I was taking led to it and out the other side.  Having dressed for hiking rather than the beach the soft sand proved to be some of the most tiring and difficult walking terrain I encountered and I was glad when I could bid the sand goodbye and head into the more tree intensive parts of my journey.

Slightly disheveled bush

Taking photos at the beach is a slightly dubious prospect nowadays particularly when you quite obviously have no decent reason for being at the beach so I kept my camera in my pocket until I encountered a small stream set sufficiently away from sunbathers and children to excuse my taking a photo of it.

A small stream with a beach lurking modestly out of shot to the left.

I left the beach with a sense of relief and delight that my feet were back on solid ground and set off around the coast.  The day was glorious; the sky and sea were blue and the sun was bright.  Very bright in fact, very very bright.  I had brought a hat which is the only reason I survived.  I had not brought sunscreen which is the reason why parts of me now resemble a refugee from a leper colony.  Still melanomas and seared flesh were in my future.  For the moment I enjoyed the bushland full of tiny, beautiful birds that absolutely refused to sit still and be photographed.  The sea fortunately was more accommodating.

The sea goes on for quite a bit further past this photo

Having tried the sea's patience by getting it to pose for photos I left it alone for a while to take photos of various plants which also had the advantage of not moving as swiftly as those damned birds.

This plant didn't jump out of the way in time

I also kept an eye out for the Clare McIntyre memorial fungus without which none of my walking blogs would be complete.  Sadly fungi was rather thin on the ground but I managed to take the photo below which I'm about 60% certain is a fungus and not just a tree disease.

The Clare McIntyre memorial fungus (probably)

I was in a good mood, I had got away from the beach and photo opportunities abounded.  A lizard posed for a photograph (ok he didn't know that but I'm pretty sure he won't sue) and the weather continued its self appointed task of burning my shoulders to a crisp.

lizard

I had just got used to being some way above the sea when the path forked and plunged back down towards the shoreline again.  With nothing better to do I followed it and wound up at Brown's Rock which must be one of the most unimaginative names for a geographic feature I have ever encountered.  The rock was indeed brown or at least dirty and there were people fishing from it.  We greeted each other politely and then even more politely ignored each other.  If I really wanted to meet people I probably wouldn't wander around uninhabited parts of the bush.  I did take quite a nice photo from the rock or at least a rock.

Quite a nice photo

And then I took a photo of a ship because it intruded itself on the scene and I figured if it was going to spoil the scenery then it should at least have its name taken down.  It's name was (and probably still is) the Golden Chie.  Either that or some exotically named gang has tagged the side of the ship.

The Golden Chie

For the record the Golden Chie is a Panama flagged tanker currently making its way to Cairns.

With the entertainment value of brown rocks and wandering oil tankers exhausted I retraced my steps, uphill this time, and continued my journey.  Well I say I continued my journey, actually I sat down at the fork in the path, gasped for breath, drank some water and tried to remember what the warning signs for a heart attack were.  Then I continued my journey.

To say I had a destination would be to attribute more organisational skill to me than I actually possess but the next point of interest according to the signs I encountered occasionally was Henry Head lighthouse.  I quite like lighthouses so it was with a spring in my step (or at least an enthusiastic shuffle) that I plunged through the bush again.  

The bush came to an abrupt end as we reached Henry Head itself.  Instead was an open, windswept headland with the world's most disappointing lighthouse situated on it.  I, of course, had been thinking about a tall cylindrical building with a flashing light on the top.  What I actually got was this;

A solar panel has been tethered to the lighthouse to stop it running away

In fairness it is cylindrical.  It was at Henry Head that the most interesting part of my walk began.  Which will probably infuriate anyone who has actually bothered reading through the above.  I would now be taking the Cape Banks walk through hanging swamps and heathlands that decorated the cliff line.  I wouldn't be walking right on the cliff edge because signs pointed out that it wasn't stable.  It and me both.

The scenery was an immediate contrast to what I had been walking through so far.  Trees vanished and in their place sturdy bushes and somewhat wind battered grasses prevailed.  As with North Head a walking platform had been created so that we didn't sully the earth with our tread.

Heathland, I presume

I walked on the path through the heathland taking in the sights (heath) and sounds (wind on heath) and politely ignoring the annoyingly large number of people who had chosen this day to do the same thing.  The walking path changed suddenly from wooden boards and occasional metal grates to handsome stone and I thought to myself  "ah ha, the National Park is going up in the world" then I saw a sign that said "Golfers have right of way."  I was walking through a golf course.  Or at least I was now.  Here the golf course had made its way right to the sea but had graciously permitted random strangers (such as myself) to continue their walk as long as they stuck to the path, allowed golfers through and didn't sue if hit on the head by a golf ball.  I obediently stuck to the path and arrived at Cape Banks which was another land extrusion into the sea.

The aforementioned sea

 

There was scenery at Cape Banks and the sea being as photogenic as ever but what really grabbed my attention were the crows.  I have never seen crows of such magnificence.  Glossy blue black feathers, deep barrel chests and pale blue eyes.  I've never thought of crows as being handsome birds but these were amazing and very happy to be photoed.  I took many many photos of which only a small selection are added below

Crows

Crows

A different but equally photogenic crow

I may have gone a little nuts over the crows actually.  Certainly I have so many photos that I could be accused of having a fetish.  I stared at them in awe and they stared at me with a combination of disdain and disinterest.

Eventually I tore myself away from the crows and continued my walk.  I didn't realise it yet but my walk was almost over.  The path I was following joined up with a road and gunshots crackled in my ears.  On one side was the golf course and as it turned out on the other was the Sydney Pistol Club.  Psychologically I had finished my walk, now there was just the tedious business of getting myself from where I was to somewhere I might be able to catch a bus.  A hasty checking of google maps informed me that the road I was on would eventually get me there.  This was useful since there wasn't another one.  Further as an added teaser it informed me that a certain way along the road once all of the golf courses and gun clubs were done with the bush started again and I would be able to walk along a boardwark through a small piece of natural bush before emerging onto a suburban street which connected to another suburban street which connected with a multi suburban street (Anzac Parade) which had bus stops on it.

Possessing for the first time an actual plan I headed off walking along a narrow road, leaping to the side when cars passed by and pausing to snicker as a couple of expensively dressed guys in a convertible mercedes drove slowly and with wincing care along a road liberally decorated with potholes and speed humps.  I have never seen anything look so out of place in my life.

Without widening at all the road suddenly became littered with parked cars.  I looked to my right and yes, there was the golfcourse again.  A couple of guys were teeing off; standing directly in front of them was an ibis which paid absolutely no attention as a rain of golf balls flew over its head.  The golfers didn't pay any attention to it either.  I wasn't particularly interested in either golfers or ibis, I had stopped because on my side of the road was the aforementioned bush and a wooden walkway allowing access.

With bush once again on both sides of me I headed along the walkway aiming for the aforementioned suburban street which was only three hundred metres ahead of me.  Approximately a hundred metres into this little journey I looked at the ground beside the walkway and saw a snake looking up at me.  I literally said, "Holy shit, a snake!"  Then I took photos.  Not great photos because the snake wasn't as inclined to pose for them as the crows had been but I managed to get one decent one before the snake disappeared under the walkway I was currently standing on.  I waited to see if it would emerge on the other side but apparently it had decided to wait until I was gone.  I would have too.

Holy shit, a snake!

After that there was nothing left but to walk the last few hundred metres back to civilisation and a couple of hundred more to a bus stop.  I didn't see any more snakes although a local I met on the walkway assured me they were there.

Hitting Things With Mallets

 I was so desperate for something to write about that I reached out to my Tasmanian correspondent something I've become less inclined to do after the restraining order.  Still she is several hundred kilometres away so I can't really claim she's breaching it.

After the traditional formalities (screams, death threats and hysterical demands to stop pestering her) I got down to the reason for my call.

"I haven't heard from you in months."

"I send you a report every week," she retorted. "Is the institution still stopping your mail?"

"I keep telling you that was a misunderstanding, they released me almost immediately."  Three months counts as almost immediately in my book.  "So what is the news from Tasmania."

She told me her twelve year old daughter had been serenading visiting American sailors with merimba music.  So business as usual then.  There were a lot of questions to ask about this.  I paused to get my thoughts in order and assemble my questions in a logical framework.

"What the fuck?"

It turns out that Hobart has recently had a visit from the US navy.  They sneaked into the harbour in between the cruise ships which have recently been infesting my correspondent's shores.  My correspondent was actually more sanguine about the warships than the cruise liners.  Hardly surprising really, cruise ships are a blight on the horizon at the best of times but at the moment they're little more than self propelled disease cultures.  Apparently the Americans had picked a gap in the schedule of these petri dishes of the sea to drop in on Hobart.

Purely by coincidence, apparently, the school attended by my correspondents children had chosen this moment to herd their charges to the waterfront and drop a bunch of merimba instruments in front of them.  After that nature was permitted to take its course.

For those who don't know a merimba is sort of like a wooden xylophone.  You hit the wooden tubes with mallets thus making music or at least noise.  After a while it isn't only the merimba you want to hit with  mallets.  Lest you think encouraging anti social behaviour in children is restricted to my correspondent's school permit me to assure you that apparently all over the state teachers are handing their students mallets and encouraging them to go nuts.  This has been going on for years.  In 2019 Tasmanian students smashed the previous Guinness record for a bunch of recalcitrant shoolchildren being dumped in front of wooden tubes and equipped with weapons.  It's called Merimba Mania although at a pinch I think "mania" would probably be an equally apposite title.

So what did our American guests think of this welcome to one of our chillier shores?  Their reaction wasn't recorded but there is a persistent rumour that my correspondent's school has been reported to the International Criminal Court in the Hague for war crimes.  Certainly the American warships steamed over the horizon as swiftly as they decently could.  Unconfirmed reports claim to have heard hysterical weeping coming from the living quarters of the vessels concerned.

My correspondent was pleased with the results until I pointed out that the absence of American warships meant that it was more likely that extra cruise liners would fill the gaps.  I believe her children's school is planning another merimba assault when they dock.

Silly After Action Report - Maryuma's Stronghold

 Captain Shinobi Nojutsu tripped over an inconveniently placed bush and collided heavily with a tree.

"By all that's sacred," snarled his colonel, "will you keep the noise down?  That damn question mark won't mean a thing if you're making enough noise for the Chinese to hear in Chungking."

Nojutsu muttered an apology and shuffled back to his spider hole.  It wasn't really his fault that a trailing bootlace defeated his attempts at stealthiness.  The strangled shriek as he plunged head first into the hole drove his colonel over the edge.

"Corporal, go and find the Chinese and ask if they mind waiting for five minutes while I murder one of my junior officers."

"Ask them yourself," replied the corporal pointing to a large group of unusually well equipped Chinese soldiers carrying ear trumpets who were making a beeline for Nojutsu's position.

"Nojutsu, get that lmg into action now" yelled the colonel.

"I'm afraid I dropped the firing pin," responded Nojutsu's voice somewhat muffled from being head down in a hole.  "But don't worry, I think I see where it went."

"No rush Nojutsu," responded the colonel sweetly seeing with sudden delight that the Chinese had almost reached the captain's spider hole.

Richard Weilly suggested playing this one, Scenario AP 126 - Maryuma's Stronghold.  Having performed one of the most low value real estate grabs in history by conquering Burma a couple of years previously the Japanese now find themselves in the position of having to throw good money after bad and defend it from the British, the Americans and the Chinese all of whom unaccountably want to dispossess them of it.

Up in northern Burma it was the Chinese and the Americans who were doing the dispossessing.  Richard would take the attacking Chinese trying to seize Myitkyina from a bunch of stereotypically stubborn Japanese commanded by me.

The Chinese will win at game end by controlling all multihex buildings.  By extension the Japanese will win if they don't.  On paper it is a powerful force that Richard commands.  He has fifteen elite squads led by no fewer than five officers (granted one of them is a 6+1) hauling along a pair of dismantled medium machine guns, a pair of dismantled 60mm mortars and a (thoroughly mantled) bazooka.  A radio connects him a battery of 70mm OBA with HE and WP.

Hunkered down in the soggy undergrowth and slapped together buildings are my defenders.  Eight first line squads with a mere two officers to provide guidance and moral support.  I have a heavy machine gun, two light machine guns and a pair of the ubiquitous 50mm mortars.  A short barrelled 70mm infantry gun provides a little heavy metal and four concealment counters and a pair of trenches aid my defences.

 My set up

Above is my set up.  A railway divides the map into two unequal parts.  On the left side of the railway is a single multihex building.  I decided this would be where I would take my final stand with the railway line as a sort of defence.  I put both of my mortars behind the tracks and a squad/lmg team with one of my mere two leaders in a conveniently placed building (with a trench line leading to the multihex location).  For the remainder I had an outpost line of dummies, the odd halfsquad and a couple of squads in the north to hopefully inflict a few early casualties on the Chinese but more to encourage them to hasten slowly.  These guys would fall back towards the bulk of my defenders in the village.  Hopefully by the time they were overcome the Chinese would be sufficiently battered that taking the building across the tracks would be a bridge too far.  The 70mm gun I set up far to the rear covering an otherwise almost empty right flank.

Richard sent a monstrous horde plunging down the middle of the board and a smaller force on a wide flanking movement to the right.  I had that sinking feeling I usually get when I realise that 90% of my force is hopelessly out of position.  Fortunately I had time to reposition them and reposition I did.  I gave up any thoughts of shooting at the mass of humanity before me and did my best to slink away unseen and tighten up my defences.  I was somewhat successful insofar as Richard didn't wipe out my defenders in the first turn.

End of Japanese turn 1.  My guys have decided running away is the better part of valour

Undaunted by the suspicious lack of opposition Richard pushed on.  His centre force split in two forces one left and one right (whether that was deliberate or not I have no idea).  My forward defenders managed to punish the left hand force but the right shook itself out and started to seriously menace my troops.  Over on the far right his flankers flanked unopposed.  On my left I was still herding stragglers towards the fighting or to be more accurate where I expected the fighting to be in a turn or two.

End of Chinese turn 2.  Richard has taken casualties but he still looks pretty overwhelming

Witth my left apparently holding firm I sent my hmg team (led by my 9-1 leader of course) forward to the buildings on the right to bolster my threatened defences.  Strangely I wasn't too concerned about his flankers.  Japanese troops don't rout much and if he wanted the buildings his troops would eventually have to come somewhere I could shoot at them.

In the centre right Richard was certainly coming where I could shoot him.  Unfortunately he could also shoot me.  Things weren't helped when my hmg fired one shot and then malfunctioned.  Fortunately I managed to repair it the next turn.

End of Chinese turn 3

A struggle ensued for control of the centre right buildings.  Richard and I gained a squad killed apiece thanks to low rolls and well executed close combat.  Over on the right his 6+1 was hustling a radio toting halfsquad to a convenient location.  I took a shot at them with my gun without effect but this would have a significant impact on the game as the remainder of Richard's flankers now realised what their next target should be.

Mistakes have been made and casualties taken but for now the defences hold

With the main drive of Richard's attack now clear I attempted to revert to my tactic of sneaking the occasional shot when convenient and skulking the rest of the time despite the fact that that didn't really work too well originally.  Seeing the opportunity to bring in his game winner Richard dialled up his artillery and dropped a spotting round near my defences.  Meanwhile more of his troops filtered around the right trying to circumvent my defenders in the north of the village.

The left side of his force which had been incrementing slowly forward and licking its earlier wounds rallied and announced themselves ready to rejoin the fray.  This they did bulling their way through the kunai to where a lone Japanese squad/lmg combo had been holding the line.  His artillery came down soaking the centre in WP without doing much harm to either of us except for the associated eyestrain.  Further south though two of his squads (with mmgs and a 9-1 leader) fell foul of a mere spattering of fire from a halfsquad and yelped out of harms way.  Grimly sticking to their mission his flanking force headed for my gun with murder in their eyes.

End of Chinese turn 4.  Disaster has struck Richard courtesy of a precocious Japanese halfsquad

The end when it came came quickly.  With his centre struggling Richard sent forward his flankers to take out my gun crew.  They managed to sneak up on my gun retaining concealment, for my part I kept my gunners crouched underneath their own concealment counter.  Into close combat Richard plunged with two squads and a leader against my mere crew.  From time to time in an abusive relationship the abuser will do something nice for his victim simply to keep them off balance.  Thus the dicebot tossed me a bone.  I ambushed him and in the subsequent CC I rolled a three killing the lot without a scratch on myself.  That was the end as far as Richard was concerned.  Casualties had been heavy and he had not yet managed to break through my defenders.  He conceded and the game was mine.  Richard later noted that he had assumed Chinese 537 squads would have assault fire and was a little offput when he found out they didn't.  I felt an incredibly smug sense of victory until I checked the ROAR results and realised the scenario is little more than a Chinese graveyard.  Many thanks to Richard for playing it anyway, wins against him are few (even by my standards) and I will take each one I get.

Endgame.  Flankers are gone.  Richard has rallied his centre but they have far to go and not much time

The colonel coughed up a little white phosphorous and attempted to focus his streaming eyes on his after action report.  "The gun crew covered themselves in glory," he wrote, "and Captain Nojutsu must be counted among the fallen."  He couldn't help smiling at those words.  The smile was wiped from his face when Nojutsu tapped on the door and tripped over the step attempting to enter the room.

"Nojutsu, I hoped, I mean I thought you were dead.  We heard nothing from your position."

"I got a little lost and led a bayonet charge in the wrong direction," admitted Nojutsu.

The colonel sighed and shook his head, "Never mind, just rejoin your platoon."

Nojutsu saluted and then hesitated.  The colonel pointed, "It's that way."

Nojutsu hastened off.

In his defence the colonel did say "Look out for the booby traps" on the other hand he did say it very quietly after Nojutsu had left the room.  The anguished scream which split the air was the sweetest sound the colonel had heard all day.