Silly After Action Report - Acts of Defiance

 There is something delightful about a well crafted plan coming to fruition.  The moment of victory coming as a deserved reward for good tactics, insightful leadership and moral courage at the difficult moments.  In fact I can think of only one thing better; gaining an utterly undeserved victory after making a pigs breakfast of your set up, wandering your best leader out into the street in LOS of a .50cal and making the sort of tactical errors that would make a six year old blush.  With that as both intro and warning welcome to my latest AAR.

Continuing our trawl through ASL Annual 95 (Winter) Dave Wilson and I hit on Scenario A68; Acts of Defiance.  It is February 1945 and the writing is on the wall for Nazi Germany or at least the writing would be on the wall if the wall hadn't been blown to pieces by Allied bombing and Soviet artillery.  Still the writing was definitely on the rubble.  Absolutely refusing to take the hint were the defenders of Breslau who were possibly hoping to hold out until German reunification in 1990.  A Soviet attack having seized a toehold their defences it was up to the Germans (commanded by me) to remove the offending toe.

Victory for the Germans is gained if there are no good order Soviet MMC within the intial Soviet set up area.  Dave's Soviets start with ten squads (seven elite of various stripes and three first line 527s) equipped with a trio of lmgs and a radio.  They are led by three officers which is an unusually high leader to squad ratio for the Soviets.  Also present are three T-44 tanks.  On turn one another five elite squads led by an 8-1 arrive dragging a .50cal machine gun and supported by a pair of ISU-122 tank destroyers enter on the south board edge.  Two bridges separate them from their comrades.

To recapture approximately twenty square feet of Nazi Germany from the ravening Soviet hordes I have ten elite squads of paratroopers with six first line squads making up the numbers.  These forces have four light machine guns, a single medium and two panzerschrecks.  They are led by four officers including a doughty 9-2.  In the south lurk two 838 assault engineers and a pair of equally impressive half squads.  The half squads are herders for a pair of Goliath self propelled explosive devices.  The obvious intention is that these should be pointed at the bridges in the hopes of destroying them and preventing Dave's reinforcements getting too involved in the battle.  Armoured support comes on in the form of a JgPzIV tank destroyer and a Brummbar assault gun carrying a 150mm artillery piece on its chassis.  Finally, lurking in the sewers is a half squad of Hitler Youth with another panzerschreck waiting for the opportunity to sneak up to ground level and hopefully blow up a Soviet tank or two (you don't do that in the Boy Scouts).

Prior to the game starting Dave had to make a DR for each stairwell location on board 20.  On a roll of less that 10 that hex would be rubbled and falling rubble would apply.  As it happened Dave rubbled precisely nothing and Breslau presented an uncharacteristically intact appearance to my attacking troops.

Below is our set up.  Dave is ensconced in the stone buildings and challenging me to throw him out.  I have divided my troops into two forces, one to flank from the left and the other to barrel headfirst towards his defenders.  My armour on arrival would support the barrellers.  In the South I skillfully positioned my assault engineer halfsquads so that they were incapable of guiding the Goliaths to the bridges.  This would result in some desperate cursing and first turn readjustments.  Sadly by the time the Goliaths got rolling Dave's armoured support had arrived and he managed to blow up the little bomb trolleys without any sort of result.  The remaining assault engineers were to strike North hoping to get into the rear of his defenders on the right.

At start and I've already messed up

Well despite screwing up the Goliaths the game had to proceed so proceed it did.  While my southern halfsquads scrambled around trying to herd their charges in the direction of the bridges the main attack proceeded apace.  In deference to my screw up with the Goliaths I changed my plan slightly and sent a squad of assault engineers towards the left to cover the more distant bridge which I was pretty certain would not suffer from any Goliath induced demolition.  The other squad plunged north accompanied by an officer with a DC.  I did indeed reach the rear of his defences but all his defensive fire achieved was to create a hero to bolster my forces.  On the left of my main attack there was little fighting and much running as my troops took advantage of the rubble to make a largely painfree journey to snatch the building that would be the base for my attack on his left flank.  In the centre a couple of squads fired away at his defenders without result.  On the right I tried pushing forward with some troops (who promptly got broken) but for the most part lurked under concealment counters preparing for the attack to come.  I completely forgot about my HIP half squad in the sewers but Dave very kindly let me move it on the next turn.  My armour rolled on to support my right flank and the Jagdpanzer promptly broke its MA.  It would repair it next turn and then get destroyed before getting chance to use it.  So much for the Jagdpanzer.

Seeing my 9-2 present amongst the troops on the right excited Dave's radio operator and he dropped a spotting round down where he hoped carnage would ensue.  This would be the beginning of a brutal fight between Dave and his artillery support.  In the ensuing turns he would lose radio contact, break the radio, fail to repair the radio, repair the radio, fail to gain radio contact, break the radio again and then destroy it.  The spotting round would be the only shot fired by the Soviet artillery all day.  God of war my arse.

End of German turn 1

In his own turn, apart from cursing his radio operator, Dave brought on his reinforcements.  The vehicles and some squads made their way towards the annoyingly unblown bridges while others, panting under the weight of the .50cal made their way to a building to set up a fire position.  Incidentally we messed up Dave's reinforcing vehicles initially thinking they were IS-2 tanks.  Fortunately the error was pointed out before it became critical.  Aside from that a conveniently placed T-44 destroyed my Jagdpanzer but the crew survived and provided me with a little more expendable infantry.  Vengeance was swiftly mine as a halfsquad with a panzerschreck managed to burn the offending tank at a three hex range no less.

End of Soviet turn 1.  As you can see one of Dave's reinforcing vehicles is patiently waiting for the Goliaths to present themselves.

Over on the left things seemed to go more or less to plan, something which always makes me nervous.  I started pushing into (and more importantly around) his defences.  On the right advance was more of an incremental thing, nervously assault moving into tiny bits of orchard while his defenders hammered away at me.  In my defence I didn't yet realise his artillery was a damp squib and feared high explosive death with every step. In the South I continued my fine tradition of incompetence by bumbling around with a squad which for some reason I managed to keep away from anywhere he could actually lay fire on the enemy.  On the other hand my Hitler Youth finally found a signpost in the sewer and popped up a convenient distance from another of Dave's tanks.

Mixed results attended the Soviet second turn.  My HJ halfsquad managed to blow up another tank and themselves at the same time (thank you backblast) while on the right each of us managed to inflict casualties on the other.  As the attacker it was appropriate that mine were higher although the death of a panzerschreck HS was a little annoying.  More concerning was the fact that his reinforcing armour was starting to get into place and his .50cal squad had finally dragged their hernia inducing charge to the top of a convenient building.  I would have to be careful about lines of sight from now on (spoiler alert; I was not careful about lines of sight).

Gains and losses on both sides

Turn three was when I made my move.  I was pushing through the rubble and buildings on the left gradually winkling him out of his positions.  On the right I simply pushed forward more targets than his remaining troops could shoot at.  Broken Germans fled in all directions but the survivors made it into the centre building that was his stronghold and started challenging for ownership.  I destroyed his final T-44 in street fighting which forced him to bring forward his tank destroyers to bolster his crumbling infantry.  For my part my Brummbar took its courage in its hands and started looping around to where it was obvious his last stand was going to take place (the rowhouse on the left).  Meanwhile in the south I futzed about some more and achieved very little.  I sent one halfsquad to recover the panzerschreck which had unaccountably survived when the backblast had laminated its previous owners over the walls of the building.  This was necessary with two hulking armoured beasts dominating the street but it did leave the way open for a Soviet squad in the South to charge across the bridge and start heading towards the victory locations.  I hoped that my assault engineer squad which had so far done nothing might be able to stop them.

The Soviets are starting to get squeezed

Things looked bleak for Dave on the surface but actually he was handling the situation well despite artillery induced disappointment.  The centre building was irretrievably gone but over on the left he was managing to trade not very much space for time and pull back to the rowhouse with a number of concealed squads.  I would have to shoot these out from under their question marks through stone walls to gain the win and I have to admit that I did not think this was likely in the time remaining despite the firepower I had arrayed.  Meanwhile his reinforcement squad on the right held out the threat that he could sneak them in for a win at the last.  I would not be able to focus all my attention on the rowhouse.

End of German turn 5.  Things aren't as bad as they look for Dave, underneath each of the broken units in the rowhouse is a fully intact concealed squad.

I managed to take out one of his ISUs with another schreck and the other retreated to where it could cover the street but then managed to break its MA.  I pushed my troops forward to try my best to take out his remaining forces.  With the absence of any other armour my Brummbar got very brave and rolled up to take a pointblank shot at a melee (I had the troops to spare and he didn't) which evaporated the contents.  It was a good thing I had the troops to spare as I decided to reinforce my troops with my 9-2 led mmg stack completely forgetting about the .50cal Dave had across the canal.  They'll bury those guys in a matchbox.

With the final turn upon me I gazed on concealed units in both the ground and first floor of the rowhouse.  I could only take my shots and pray.  I broke every single unit in the building.  Not with great rolls, just enough to generate normal morale checks which Dave's troops, despite their eight morale proved incapable of passing.  I gave a sigh of relief for just a second before reality intruded, the game wasn't over yet.  

In the Soviet turn six Dave had one hope.  His elite squad on the right had managed to edge up just a few hexes away from the victory locations.  If they could get across the road and advance into pretty much anywhere Dave would have the win. Boldly his squad sallied forth, my hero took a 1 flat shot at him through a hedge and scored a morale check.  Dave rolled snake eyes and his 628 was now fanatic.  Everything now depended on my 838 assault engineer squad who had literally done nothing all game.  I took an 8 down 1 shot and rolled a ten for a pin check.  Dave's morale was nine, he rolled a ten and pinned in the middle of the street one hex away from the promised land.

End of the game.  In deference to Dave's sensibilities I didn't place the pin counter on his 628 but it is pinned nonetheless

If Dave had passed either of his two morale checks on the left or the PTC on the right he would have won the game.  As it was the dice handed me the most undeserved of victories.  I was gracious to Dave but away from my PC I did a little victory dance while giggling hysterically to myself.  If you can't be good, be lucky.  So to recap lucky dice and a total absence of Soviet artillery served up victory on a silver platter.  If it had been anybody else they would probably have had it won on turn four, as it was it went right down to the wire.  Thanks to Dave for the game and his good humour as the dicebot eviscerated his hopes and dreams.

 

Birthday Greetings #85

 There haven't been too many of these lately, a fact which was pointed out by a fellow gamer at CanCon this year (which I haven't written about as I weep every time I try).  After I got over the surprise at someone actually reading my blog I decided to rectify this at the first opportunity in a pathetic and transparent attempt to preserve my readership base.

So, happy birthday to Justin I, Byzantine emperor.  Justin followed quite a traditional leadership path in the Byzantine empire, he started off as a pig farming peasant.  As a teenager he fled a barbarian invasion (I'm not sure which but there were plenty going around at the time) and wound up in Constantinople where he decided that a military career was preferable to having anything more to do with pigs.

But what about the giddy ascent that led from muddy sty to the imperial purple?  According to one tale the story went like this.  Justin's predecessor as emperor, one Anastasius by name, now in his ninth decade could feel the bony hand of death on his shoulder and was filled with curiosity as to who would rule the empire after him.  He had no sons but he had three grown nephews so he invited them to a private dinner.  A couch was provided for each of them, on one couch a secret mark was made, whoever sat on that couch would inherit the throne (beats pulling a sword out of a rock doesn't it).  Unfortunately two of the nephews seemed to have an affection slightly at odds with the prevailing social mores and decided to share a couch and the marked couch was left unused.  

Anastasius realised that the throne would not be inherited by a family member but he was still keen to know who the lucky person would be.  He prayed for insight and that night God (who apparently had nothing better to do) dropped in on a dream to inform him that the new emperor would be the first person to enter the imperial bed chamber the next morning.  This made sense to Anastasius, normally the first person in was the Grand Chamberlain with the latest political reports.  High born and a senior member of the hierarchy possibly the only real surprise is that he was waiting until the incumbent died before grabbing the purple.  On this particular day however the first person in was the thuggish, illiterate commander of the Imperial Guard our boy Justin (who was pushing seventy by this time).  Anastasius accepted that the ways God moved in were not just mysterious but downright weird and died at peace.

If you believe the above story I have a bridge I'd like to sell you.  All it really does is serve notice on the quality of investigative journalism in fifth century Byzantium.  As far as we can tell from a distance of some seventeen hundred years what actually happened was that Anastasius' brother made a bid for the throne.  The grand chamberlain had his eye on another candidate and to buy military support gave Justin a large sum of money to bribe the relevant people.  This Justin did, he bribed them so well that they elevated him as emperor instead.  Justin then executed his predecessor's brother and the other candidate for the throne and a few other people who looked like they might look good in purple.  Then he settled down to rule.

So, how did a seventy year old, semi literate pig farmer do as emperor?  Better than you might think.  Justin was smart enough to know what he didn't know and dialled in skilled advisors to assist him in areas where his knowledge was lacking.  Foreign policy consisted of building up Christian buffer states between the empire and its distinctly non-Christian neighbours like the Sassanians (essentially Persia).  This worked for a while although war broke out under Justin's successor.  The main thing Justin concerned himself with was religion.

This might not seem particularly important now but in those days it was everything.  There was a split in the Christian church (because there always is) between those who believed in the dual nature of Christ (Chalcedonians) and those who believed the son of God had a single, divine nature (Miaphysites).  Anastasius had been a Miaphysite which had led to a certain amount of tension (riots, revolts and an attempt to remove him from the throne) by the largely Chalcedonian population of Constantinople.  It had also led to a schism with the Pope in Rome.  Justin an avowed Chalcedonian mended bridges with the Pope and reunited Christianity or rather reunited some bits of Christianity.  The Miaphysites and Monophysites (like Miaphysites only more so) were persecuted which caused some issues as at that time Italy was being ruled by the Goths who were Arians (a type of Monophysite).  The Goths got very annoyed and wound up tossing the Pope in gaol.

The displeasure of the Goths was significant because technically they ruled Italy in the emperor's name.  They had defeated the last emperor of the West some years previously and had taken over.  Claiming that they did so at the behest of the emperor in the East saved that emperor some face and gave a little respectability to a Gothic invasion force.  Now however relations between the two were on a downward slide.  Justin's nephew was to blame for a good deal of this and would ultimately wind up having the Gothic kingdom destroyed.

So, Justin's nephew; one of the talented advisors Justin called on was his own nephew of equally low origins but considerably more talent.  His name was Justinian (not originally of course but after Justin adopted him it was).  Cold, intelligent and utterly ruthless he was Justin's right hand man (a lot of the success of Justin's coup can be traced back to his activities) and as the emperor slid into senility he took on more and more of the imperial duties.  He was crowned co-emperor and when Justin finally died took the throne as sole emperor.  One of the top items on his to do list was destroying the Gothic kingdom of Italy.

Travelling Pathetically - Metro Edition

 There has been a new train line running in Sydney for the past few years.  The much vaunted Northwest Metro.  Given my mania for trains/trams/light rail etc it may surprise you that as yet I have not availed myself of its services.  Part of the reason for that is the damned thing stops at Chatswood which means I have to travel quite a distance to somewhere I have very little interest in simply to catch a Metro to somewhere else I have very little interest in.  Besides the state government is currently busy extending said network and replacing my current train line with it so I figured I'd wait until the Metro came to my door or I died, whichever came first.

Now all that has changed.  Some friends of mine live quite close to the Metro line (and therefore nowhere near me.  Actually its amazing how many of my friends contrive to live quite a distance away from me, I'm not reading anything into that no matter how much they want me to).  One Saturday being utterly bereft of something to do I contacted them and suggested we have lunch at Rouse Hill which is one stop from being the last on the Metro.  I thought I would take the Metro to Tallawong the very last Metro stop and walk back to Rouse Hill through some bush that had apparently not been completely demolished.  A combination of weather and some health issues put paid to the bushwalking section and I was left with catching a Metro to Rouse Hill for lunch.  Out of sheer perversity I went to Tallawong anyway and caught another Metro back.

Weekends are when the government does work on its various railway lines which might upset the commuters if it happened during the week.  For this reason by the time I arrived at Epping's combined train/metro station I had already taken three trains and more time than anyone would consider acceptable simply to reconnect with some friends.  Still being physically present I figured I might as well go all the way and hopped on the next available Metro.

Metro trains are essentially designed on the principle that traveling by train is morally wrong and those who do it deserve to be punished.  The seats are few and not particularly comfortable.  They also face into the carriage because Metro travelers don't deserve to look out windows.  Windows are nevertheless unaccountably provided.  Everything is shiny and new including the spectacularly patronising voice over that announces the stops.  At each stop the voice over would announce which side of the train the doors would open on, no doubt to the great relief of the people hurling themselves against the doors on the other side of the carriage weeping with frustration.  Actually the inward facing seats weren't too much of a problem as much of the journey is underground.  Although when it did become above ground it became well above ground.  Risking spinal injury I twisted myself around until I could look out the window.

The Northwest Metro travels through an area that can best be described as "suburbia in progress".  There are still large open patches of ground and occasional patches of trees and everywhere there are developers pouring concrete over the lot.  According to Dan (one of my lunch dates) who remembers when all this was green fields it used to be a farming area.  There are still some farmers who haven't got the message.  What this means is that such suburbs as have been built tend to come to an abrupt end as if development had been cut off with a knife and collections of apartment blocks peer incongruously over fields that still have the occasional animal in them.

I must confess that the Metro deposited me with smooth efficiency at Tallawong which was the end of the line.  The Tallawong metro station was actually originally located within the boundaries of Rouse Hill but it was decided that one metro station was more than the suburb deserved and it certainly wasn't getting two so they separated the station out and then ripped some chunks off the neighbouring suburb of Schofields, stapled it to the metro station.  The resulting frankensuburb was called Tallawong which is an Indigenous word meaning "metro station".

I got off the train at Tallawong and took a brief look around.  Believe me no more than a brief look is required.  Apart from the station itself there's not a lot there.  There will be; development is following the Metro and a good chunk of Tallawong is behind fencing being constructed.  In the meantime there is the occasional completed block of flats sticking out of the ground apparently at random and a lot of construction sites.  I live in a long established suburb in the inner city.  As such what little vegetation remains generally follows creek beds and is prized as somewhere to walk and litter while people tend to be a bit annoyed if you do that in their backyards.  Out here the residences appeared to be completely accessible while it was the bush that was fenced off so no-one could get into it.  The reason of course is that this isn't going to be bush for very much longer.

Tallawong - before

  

Tallawong - after

The above two photos are taken on opposite sides of the road.

Having exhausted all the interest that Tallawong could provide I hopped back on the Metro for the very brief journey to Rouse Hill.  It has to be said that Rouse Hill is going to have to develop into a heaven on earth if it wants to live up to its metro station.  It is a magnificent structure looming over the main shopping area of Rouse Hill like the modern day equivalent of a crusader castle.  Not that there's much to loom over.  There's a shopping/restaurant mall, a park and then nothing although in deference to the developers intentions I should rather say, "nothing yet".  On the opposite side of the tracks from the shops is a very large cemetery with very few gravestones.  They appear to be preparing for the apocalypse although Dan, who knows about these things, pointed out to me that a cemetery counts as part of the "green space" the developers are obliged to include in their plans for the suburb.  Frankly I'm surprised the place doesn't have a necropolis.

Lunch was had, conversation took place and while it did a cross section of the inhabitants Rouse Hill and surrounding areas paraded themselves for our amusement.  As did a cross section of the cars they drove.  Favoured among cars in this region is those that make deep, guttural rumblings that make conversation impossible.  Once electric cars become common the owners are going to have to put big signs on the roof saying "please look at my car" to have the same effect.

Once lunch was over we wandered down to the park where there was a lake, water birds and rubbish in more or less equal quantities.  There were also people emerging from a path which I had been intending to take when I planned my walk and which I had been assured was closed due to the recent rain.  I tried to be upset about that but my health issues started reminding me they had been in abeyance rather than gone so I bade farewell to my friends (we must do this again next year) and took four separate trains home.

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.