You would think that after a long personal experience with wargaming I would appreciate that different eras require different skill sets in wargamers. Someone who is good at a WW2 armor/infantry game might not be so good at ancients. How much worse, then, when it is the 18th Century? I've seen this in games of Frederick the Great (now by AH) and Napoleon in Italy. The 18th/19th Century gamer will respond to moves and countermoves. A lot of WW2 gamers will bull ahead, and we'll end up with a horrible smasyh. Maneuver to secure an advantage is a lost art with a lot of them.
For that matter, I've seen the "smash ahead" type WW2 gamers lose badly to someone who maneuvers and sets up situations.
So what happened?
Disaster on the Zocchi!!!!!
I have been in search of a general or two who would get the war off to a start. Every gamer I tried looked at the river, decided this was not their cup of tea, and sat still, awaiting events. Finally I found a tankie who decided that aggressive action was the key. And he had all of that cavalry just sitting there.
He crossed the river, going north. His opponent had set up cleverly one hex back from the river. We went through the steps outlined in previous posts. Our tankie massed his tanks, er cavalry, and charged.
I'm not sure if Operation Goodwood or Minden is a good example of what happened. To be blunt, the defender shot the daylights out of the attacking and unsupported cavalry. Then, when that failed, he belatedly tried an infantry advance. No finesse, just an assault all along the line. The same thing happened, and this time the defender unleashed his cavalry on disordered foot.
Well, that decided the battle then and there after only four turns. Then, with the former attacker now backed against the river, the former defender pushed forward and launched a new attack on an army that was basically a disordered mob.
The former attacker took 35,000 men across the river. In the first battle he lost8,000. In the second he lost 14,000. That's 22,000 lost out of an army of 35,000. That is an estimate, by the way. I haven't even bothered to look at the casualty rosters.
To quote a friend about a miniatures battle from long ago, it made Custer's Last Stand look like a near-run thing.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
All that preparation, and it was fairly pointless. Still, if I wanted to boost my own ego, I'd take my 1813 Prussians up against this tankie. I don't even want to consider what would happen if I took my 1806 French up against him. After a while it wouldn't be fun.
After it was all over I heard him mutter that this never happened when he took his Jagdpanthers and Tigers up against Sherman tanks. I think I'll leave his education to someone else.
I might try this again, but a) with a different map, one I'll create and share; b) different gamers who are versed in the period.
Showing posts with label Miniatures Campaign. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Miniatures Campaign. Show all posts
Friday, June 24, 2011
Wednesday, June 22, 2011
All Quiet on the Zocchi
Sitzenkrieg!
Years ago I was told that from time to time a wargame situation would occur that actually mirrored real life. I can now attest that this is true. I know how Lincoln felt from just after Antietam until Lee began to move north in June of 1863. Both armies moved out, both went into camp, and both waited for the other side to make the first move. I goaded. I pleaded. I even rplaced commanders. Nothing worked. Both sides stared at each other and claimed the river prevented any activity.
So I'll have to think of something. This isn't quite the campaign I anticipated.
Years ago I was told that from time to time a wargame situation would occur that actually mirrored real life. I can now attest that this is true. I know how Lincoln felt from just after Antietam until Lee began to move north in June of 1863. Both armies moved out, both went into camp, and both waited for the other side to make the first move. I goaded. I pleaded. I even rplaced commanders. Nothing worked. Both sides stared at each other and claimed the river prevented any activity.
So I'll have to think of something. This isn't quite the campaign I anticipated.
Tuesday, May 3, 2011
The Armies Arrayed
I decided to use my 9mm figures because the lads hadn't been out for years and years, and needed the exercise.
Ober-Bierfest
This is more or less based on the French. The Army mustered 46 battalions, 47 squadrons, and 7 batteries. This does not include 4 squadrons of irregular cavalry (see, in the French Army, cavalry outside of the Household are "light"). They were promised reinforcements, of which more anon.
Saxe-Schewinrot
The base of the army was Hanoverian, of which I could field 9 battalions, 21 squadrons, and 3 batteries. To this was added mercenary contingent of Prussians, 33 battalions, 58 squadrons, and 5 batteries. Four irregular battalions, and four irregular squadrons came along for the loot and plunder.
Ober-Bierfest allies: Swedes, of which I have 6 battalions, 6 squadrons, and a battery.After due consideration I threw in the Russians, 7 battalions and 13 squadrons, and 4 batteries. The Cossacks stayed home. I might have the mounted arms appear first.
Future allies - we'll see.
So Saxe-Schweinrot has better quality infantry, but less of it, and Ober-Bierfest has quantity. The mounted arm favors Szxe-Schweinrot. As for the paucity of artillery, alas it is an expensive arm of war.
The muster points were set (VV-12 and OO-42), and now both sides sat down and pondered: here we are at wary. Now what?
Coming soon, the first moves.
Ober-Bierfest
This is more or less based on the French. The Army mustered 46 battalions, 47 squadrons, and 7 batteries. This does not include 4 squadrons of irregular cavalry (see, in the French Army, cavalry outside of the Household are "light"). They were promised reinforcements, of which more anon.
Saxe-Schewinrot
The base of the army was Hanoverian, of which I could field 9 battalions, 21 squadrons, and 3 batteries. To this was added mercenary contingent of Prussians, 33 battalions, 58 squadrons, and 5 batteries. Four irregular battalions, and four irregular squadrons came along for the loot and plunder.
Ober-Bierfest allies: Swedes, of which I have 6 battalions, 6 squadrons, and a battery.After due consideration I threw in the Russians, 7 battalions and 13 squadrons, and 4 batteries. The Cossacks stayed home. I might have the mounted arms appear first.
Future allies - we'll see.
So Saxe-Schweinrot has better quality infantry, but less of it, and Ober-Bierfest has quantity. The mounted arm favors Szxe-Schweinrot. As for the paucity of artillery, alas it is an expensive arm of war.
The muster points were set (VV-12 and OO-42), and now both sides sat down and pondered: here we are at wary. Now what?
Coming soon, the first moves.
Monday, April 11, 2011
The Combatants, and more
There was consternation in the two capitols (OO-31 and JJ-46), and not a little head-scratching. A border clash! War! Excuse me, WAR!!! Immediately both parliaments and Crown Councils sprang into action, levying horses to field the armies.
The head-scratching came as ministers poured over the accounts. Just who had ordered these military expeditions? And where had they fought? You see, the border between the two countries is a river, and yet if you reread the account of the battle you'll see not a single mention of a body of water (and what was in the casks in the Quartermaster Stores did not count as water). Well, there is a simple explanation, one that covers everything.
Map reading error.
See, I told you I consulted the great and good Prince Tedron of Methylonia. He specialized in these sorts of affairs, and he so arranged everything.
Cooler heads wanted to know where was this gold mine, where was the border clash, and where were the regiments that had taken part. Rumors flew of corruption, of misleading reports, and so on. All for naught. There would be war when Spring rolled around, and that was that.
!!!!!!!!!!!
Now after all of that talk about movement systems, just how did this all occur? I used Campaign Cartographer to create a hex-based map. I didn't have a river on there, my bad, but it added to the fun. I took my "away" kit of miniatures, rosters, rulers, and foot-sticks, and rounded up some Warhammer and RPG types at a local hobby store to fight the battle after a suitable mini-campaign. I even provided the dice! All they had to do was sit down and play.
I think there is a truism somewhere that low throws in movement are balanced by high throws in combat, and vice versa (at least that has been my experience). The armies squared off across the hex sheet, and both commanders threw a '1'. Both decided to "stay off the roads because the enemy would be expecting that", and both ignored whatever movement bonus the generals had, so both moved a hex.
Another pair of '1's. This was going to take all day. After a third move, one of the commanders decided to build a depot (that was the baking bread reference). He forgot to garrison it so it was inactive. The other side threw a '5' for movement, which is why he suddenly moved fast. But after five turns of map moving they finally sighted each other.
One side promptly deployed his entire army, and had all sorts of problems dealing with the terrain. The other stayed in march column just a little too long, and lost some men when contact was made. By the way, both sides had their genrals well out front, leading by example. But finally they squared off to fight.
I'd forgotten that I was dealing with people who played a lot of Ancients. They promptly tried to put every man in the front line, read the rules about shooting being two dice, but melee being four, and charged.
This is where the dice "made up" for their poor moving experience. This was Volley & Bayonet, so 6's hit. Both sides threw a lot of 6's. Whole battalions vanished in a blaze of musketry/melee. One side rolled over the other, pressed on, and ran into the second line (the troops who wouldn't fit in the first line). Which promptly returned the favor. Again a lot of 6's were thrown. Blood was flowing in quantities sufficent to over awe even a WW1 General. It really looked like whoever had a regiment left would win.
Both sides were disordered, and half of each army was in rout. Neither side could really advance on the other, so I declared the battle over. I collected all of the rosters and other impedimentia of war and retired to my game table to sort through it. The gamers were talking (as I left) about using V&B for an Ancients set of rules, though they would get rid of distant shooting by the infantry.
I've seen this sort of deployment before. Once at Enfilade! I put on a 6mm Napoleonics battle, just a couple of divisions on a side with open flanks so the light cavalry got sucked off to the flanks to protect them. I deployed both the Austrians and the French in two lines. Both sides promptly shoved all of their men into the front line with no reserves. I concluded that a halfway decent tactician would have these guys for lunch. Worse yet, some of them wouldn't understand why or how they lost!
I really regretted that these Ancients gamers wouldn't get a lesson in 18th Century tactics and strategy, but they're somewhat irregular in their gaming (well, so am I), and people who get too badly hammered don't always return. I'll think of something.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~
So the armies are mobilizing. One country is significantly smaller than the other, but they "enjoy" higher subsidies from their patron, and so the armies will work out about the same. The countries are open with rolling ground and a few roads, so that'll make for some interesting campaigning. And I'm going to recruit some map generals who have some idea of what they're doing. Have to come up with a die roll method as none of these people will meet face-to-face for a while.
In the meantime recruiting parties are sweeping up the ne'er-do-wells and the young nobility, the two groups that traditionally are only a drag on society, giving them uniforms, and otherwise mustering. As the Spring Thaw sets in and grass comes into the fields the initial deployments will get made, and then the moves.
Stay tuned.
The head-scratching came as ministers poured over the accounts. Just who had ordered these military expeditions? And where had they fought? You see, the border between the two countries is a river, and yet if you reread the account of the battle you'll see not a single mention of a body of water (and what was in the casks in the Quartermaster Stores did not count as water). Well, there is a simple explanation, one that covers everything.
Map reading error.
See, I told you I consulted the great and good Prince Tedron of Methylonia. He specialized in these sorts of affairs, and he so arranged everything.
Cooler heads wanted to know where was this gold mine, where was the border clash, and where were the regiments that had taken part. Rumors flew of corruption, of misleading reports, and so on. All for naught. There would be war when Spring rolled around, and that was that.
!!!!!!!!!!!
Now after all of that talk about movement systems, just how did this all occur? I used Campaign Cartographer to create a hex-based map. I didn't have a river on there, my bad, but it added to the fun. I took my "away" kit of miniatures, rosters, rulers, and foot-sticks, and rounded up some Warhammer and RPG types at a local hobby store to fight the battle after a suitable mini-campaign. I even provided the dice! All they had to do was sit down and play.
I think there is a truism somewhere that low throws in movement are balanced by high throws in combat, and vice versa (at least that has been my experience). The armies squared off across the hex sheet, and both commanders threw a '1'. Both decided to "stay off the roads because the enemy would be expecting that", and both ignored whatever movement bonus the generals had, so both moved a hex.
Another pair of '1's. This was going to take all day. After a third move, one of the commanders decided to build a depot (that was the baking bread reference). He forgot to garrison it so it was inactive. The other side threw a '5' for movement, which is why he suddenly moved fast. But after five turns of map moving they finally sighted each other.
One side promptly deployed his entire army, and had all sorts of problems dealing with the terrain. The other stayed in march column just a little too long, and lost some men when contact was made. By the way, both sides had their genrals well out front, leading by example. But finally they squared off to fight.
I'd forgotten that I was dealing with people who played a lot of Ancients. They promptly tried to put every man in the front line, read the rules about shooting being two dice, but melee being four, and charged.
This is where the dice "made up" for their poor moving experience. This was Volley & Bayonet, so 6's hit. Both sides threw a lot of 6's. Whole battalions vanished in a blaze of musketry/melee. One side rolled over the other, pressed on, and ran into the second line (the troops who wouldn't fit in the first line). Which promptly returned the favor. Again a lot of 6's were thrown. Blood was flowing in quantities sufficent to over awe even a WW1 General. It really looked like whoever had a regiment left would win.
Both sides were disordered, and half of each army was in rout. Neither side could really advance on the other, so I declared the battle over. I collected all of the rosters and other impedimentia of war and retired to my game table to sort through it. The gamers were talking (as I left) about using V&B for an Ancients set of rules, though they would get rid of distant shooting by the infantry.
I've seen this sort of deployment before. Once at Enfilade! I put on a 6mm Napoleonics battle, just a couple of divisions on a side with open flanks so the light cavalry got sucked off to the flanks to protect them. I deployed both the Austrians and the French in two lines. Both sides promptly shoved all of their men into the front line with no reserves. I concluded that a halfway decent tactician would have these guys for lunch. Worse yet, some of them wouldn't understand why or how they lost!
I really regretted that these Ancients gamers wouldn't get a lesson in 18th Century tactics and strategy, but they're somewhat irregular in their gaming (well, so am I), and people who get too badly hammered don't always return. I'll think of something.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~
So the armies are mobilizing. One country is significantly smaller than the other, but they "enjoy" higher subsidies from their patron, and so the armies will work out about the same. The countries are open with rolling ground and a few roads, so that'll make for some interesting campaigning. And I'm going to recruit some map generals who have some idea of what they're doing. Have to come up with a die roll method as none of these people will meet face-to-face for a while.
In the meantime recruiting parties are sweeping up the ne'er-do-wells and the young nobility, the two groups that traditionally are only a drag on society, giving them uniforms, and otherwise mustering. As the Spring Thaw sets in and grass comes into the fields the initial deployments will get made, and then the moves.
Stay tuned.
Monday, March 28, 2011
The Initial Clash
In all fairness, this part of the border between Saxe-Schweinrot and Grosser-Bierfest had never been adequately surveyed. The locals felt (rightly) that that much official attention would be followed by taxes. So surveyers were shot, bludgeoned, and otherwise dispsosed of. When that did not deter officials (surveying parties grew larger) they resorted to bribery. That was a mistake. The gold they used whetted the appetites in both capitols. Politicians are, after all, addicted to money.
The Erbprinz of Saxe-Schweinrot got wind of this, recalled a law dating back to the 13th Century that all government officials were members of the army who served at the Grand Duke's pleasure, and announced that what pleased the Grand Duke was for these officials to serve in the front line as the officer commanding battalions. There were those who questioned that law, but the Erbprinz produced a copy on parchment (after first using a forced draft from a local smithy to dry the ink). Now please recall that in those days the officer commanding the battalion had to stand in front of the battalion to give it "proper direction". Sadly the Erbprinz recalled that old aphorism: "You peculate the big bucks only at your peril."
The Duke of Grosser-Bierfest was a little more practical. As long as he got paid off, he didn't care how much you stole. However since he wanted 155%, it didn't take these officials long to decide they didn't want to be in debt to the Duke.
Both sides set up convoys that went into the area, mined the gold, and left. But soon rumors began to filter across the nominal border that there was a lot of gold to be had just over the hill. Both sides decided they wanted to control all of the gold, and were not willing to share. Both decided the best way to do this was to send a few troops out to secure the gold mine. And then they'd redefine the border to prove they were rightly just protecting their territory.
The Schweinrot forces mustered at the small river town of Wasserdam. They numbered six regiments of foot (12 battalions) and 20 squadrons of cavalry, just over 10,000 men. The Bierfest troops numbered 10 battalions and 20 squadrons (the battalions were stronger, so the total came to just over 10,000 men as well), plus a couple of guns. They mustered at the town of Muhlhaus, downstream of Wasserdam (both are on the Wasser River). Lt. General Plumper was put in charge of the Schweirot troops. He would face General Klepterov in the coming battle.
Note - the forces were determined by a die throw.
General Klepterov was not the most imaginative of generals. He flung a couple of squadrons out in front a couple of hundred yards as a "scouting screen", and on a fine autumn afternoon, marched out. Owing to the lateness of the day they made a mile before having to camp for the day. The second day they moved a little faster, reaching three miles. Clearly General Klepterov did not believe in exhausting his troops by marching. This "blistering" pace continued, but after three days they stopped to bake bread. Two days later they stopped to celebrate General Klepterov's wife's sister's birthday. Here they camped because nobody would campaign on a Sunday.
His opposite number sat in cantonments "analyzing" the situation. Only a direct order from the Erbprinz (and a sharp note from the General's wife that he had promised to be gone only a week) goaded him into action. Plumper made up for lost time by decreeing forced marches and "extraordinary" efforts. His troops responded with marches of 10 miles on two successive days. After such prodigious feats they had to rest for a day (the General was having second thoughts about hurrying home).
Halfway between the two gold mines lay the town of Giltbrick, a community that was there to serve the needs of the miners. It had a decent tavern, an imposing cemetary, and a church that people traveled for miles to see. Both generals set their sights on the town as a place to rest for the night.
Plumper was the first to decide something strange was going on when his cavalry scouts were seen having a drink with strange cavalrymen wearing the uniform of Bierfest cavalry. Reacting with celerity, Plumper deployed his men. They then had to endure an eight mile march while in line of battle. This necessitated frequent stops to correct the alignment, so it wasn't until two hours before sunset that they came in sight of the Bierfest troops.
On his part the near-sighted Klepterov remained oblivious to any approaching forces. He was just short of Giltbrick when he realized that there were enemy troops present. This happened when he stopped to utilize his flask, and a Schweinrot trooper had to help him get the cork out. This (and the particularly fine brandy) forced him to react. He called for a deployment of the whole army!
Deployments were processional, and so it took two hours to get the 10,000 Bierfest troops into line. As nobody wanted to be the second one to strike a blow, the colonels deployed their men in one line of battle with the cavalry on the wings. The Schweinrot troops had been disorganized by the last march, and two regiments had fallen behind owing to an inhospitable series of beehives. This meant that the Schweinrot forces were (accidentally) in two lines.
Note - I found some guys who were willing to try a "quick" scenario at a local hobby store. I set up the troops, and then sat back to take notes. One force promptly deployed into one line, while the other remained in two, but only because he couldn't get everyone in the front line.
Both sides decided the only proper thing was to advance to point-blank range and open fire. And so they did! Battle was immediately joined all along the line. The Bierfest troops enjoyed immediate success in the center, while the Schweinrot forces drove off the enemy cavalry, but only at considerable cost. After an hour of intense fighting (we were using 15 minute turns) the Bierfest flanks were both on the defensive (i.e. stationary) because of threatening cavalry, but the enter was advancing victoriously, the Schweintrot troops fleeing in panic in front of them.
Remember those two regiments that couldn't make it into the front line? The Bierfest troops learned about them while disorganized. Their advancing center was thrown back, and some of the Bierfest troops broke and ran. The lines stabilized and both generals frantically rode around patching things up (rallying troops from rout) while the troops blazed away at each other until it was too dark to see.
Night fell, and both generals stumbled into each other in Giltbrick as they sought a drink after an afternoon of carnage. Over dinner of poached roast pheasant they glumly assessed their losses. In immediate terms both sides could muster about 2,000 men. But with troops returning from rout both sides eventually worked out that they had about 7,500 men each. A truce to bury the dead was worked out, and the two sides sat there eyeing each other for the next week. Both governments ordered their troops back, except for cavalry to picket the area.
-----------
The importance of a second line was brought home to both sides, though I think only one side learned that lesson (Bierfest). The devastating dice throwing by a couple of the regiments in the Bierfest army was truly something to see. The only thing that saved the Schweinrot forces was the success of their Horse. They tied down 40% of the Bierfest army. So there was a glimmer of hope for both sides. Both generals were retained in command, though not the supreme command.
-------------
Both sides "absorbed" the "lessons" of this fight, even as delarations of war for this "unprovoked" attack were issued. More on that anon.
The Erbprinz of Saxe-Schweinrot got wind of this, recalled a law dating back to the 13th Century that all government officials were members of the army who served at the Grand Duke's pleasure, and announced that what pleased the Grand Duke was for these officials to serve in the front line as the officer commanding battalions. There were those who questioned that law, but the Erbprinz produced a copy on parchment (after first using a forced draft from a local smithy to dry the ink). Now please recall that in those days the officer commanding the battalion had to stand in front of the battalion to give it "proper direction". Sadly the Erbprinz recalled that old aphorism: "You peculate the big bucks only at your peril."
The Duke of Grosser-Bierfest was a little more practical. As long as he got paid off, he didn't care how much you stole. However since he wanted 155%, it didn't take these officials long to decide they didn't want to be in debt to the Duke.
Both sides set up convoys that went into the area, mined the gold, and left. But soon rumors began to filter across the nominal border that there was a lot of gold to be had just over the hill. Both sides decided they wanted to control all of the gold, and were not willing to share. Both decided the best way to do this was to send a few troops out to secure the gold mine. And then they'd redefine the border to prove they were rightly just protecting their territory.
The Schweinrot forces mustered at the small river town of Wasserdam. They numbered six regiments of foot (12 battalions) and 20 squadrons of cavalry, just over 10,000 men. The Bierfest troops numbered 10 battalions and 20 squadrons (the battalions were stronger, so the total came to just over 10,000 men as well), plus a couple of guns. They mustered at the town of Muhlhaus, downstream of Wasserdam (both are on the Wasser River). Lt. General Plumper was put in charge of the Schweirot troops. He would face General Klepterov in the coming battle.
Note - the forces were determined by a die throw.
General Klepterov was not the most imaginative of generals. He flung a couple of squadrons out in front a couple of hundred yards as a "scouting screen", and on a fine autumn afternoon, marched out. Owing to the lateness of the day they made a mile before having to camp for the day. The second day they moved a little faster, reaching three miles. Clearly General Klepterov did not believe in exhausting his troops by marching. This "blistering" pace continued, but after three days they stopped to bake bread. Two days later they stopped to celebrate General Klepterov's wife's sister's birthday. Here they camped because nobody would campaign on a Sunday.
His opposite number sat in cantonments "analyzing" the situation. Only a direct order from the Erbprinz (and a sharp note from the General's wife that he had promised to be gone only a week) goaded him into action. Plumper made up for lost time by decreeing forced marches and "extraordinary" efforts. His troops responded with marches of 10 miles on two successive days. After such prodigious feats they had to rest for a day (the General was having second thoughts about hurrying home).
Halfway between the two gold mines lay the town of Giltbrick, a community that was there to serve the needs of the miners. It had a decent tavern, an imposing cemetary, and a church that people traveled for miles to see. Both generals set their sights on the town as a place to rest for the night.
Plumper was the first to decide something strange was going on when his cavalry scouts were seen having a drink with strange cavalrymen wearing the uniform of Bierfest cavalry. Reacting with celerity, Plumper deployed his men. They then had to endure an eight mile march while in line of battle. This necessitated frequent stops to correct the alignment, so it wasn't until two hours before sunset that they came in sight of the Bierfest troops.
On his part the near-sighted Klepterov remained oblivious to any approaching forces. He was just short of Giltbrick when he realized that there were enemy troops present. This happened when he stopped to utilize his flask, and a Schweinrot trooper had to help him get the cork out. This (and the particularly fine brandy) forced him to react. He called for a deployment of the whole army!
Deployments were processional, and so it took two hours to get the 10,000 Bierfest troops into line. As nobody wanted to be the second one to strike a blow, the colonels deployed their men in one line of battle with the cavalry on the wings. The Schweinrot troops had been disorganized by the last march, and two regiments had fallen behind owing to an inhospitable series of beehives. This meant that the Schweinrot forces were (accidentally) in two lines.
Note - I found some guys who were willing to try a "quick" scenario at a local hobby store. I set up the troops, and then sat back to take notes. One force promptly deployed into one line, while the other remained in two, but only because he couldn't get everyone in the front line.
Both sides decided the only proper thing was to advance to point-blank range and open fire. And so they did! Battle was immediately joined all along the line. The Bierfest troops enjoyed immediate success in the center, while the Schweinrot forces drove off the enemy cavalry, but only at considerable cost. After an hour of intense fighting (we were using 15 minute turns) the Bierfest flanks were both on the defensive (i.e. stationary) because of threatening cavalry, but the enter was advancing victoriously, the Schweintrot troops fleeing in panic in front of them.
Remember those two regiments that couldn't make it into the front line? The Bierfest troops learned about them while disorganized. Their advancing center was thrown back, and some of the Bierfest troops broke and ran. The lines stabilized and both generals frantically rode around patching things up (rallying troops from rout) while the troops blazed away at each other until it was too dark to see.
Night fell, and both generals stumbled into each other in Giltbrick as they sought a drink after an afternoon of carnage. Over dinner of poached roast pheasant they glumly assessed their losses. In immediate terms both sides could muster about 2,000 men. But with troops returning from rout both sides eventually worked out that they had about 7,500 men each. A truce to bury the dead was worked out, and the two sides sat there eyeing each other for the next week. Both governments ordered their troops back, except for cavalry to picket the area.
-----------
The importance of a second line was brought home to both sides, though I think only one side learned that lesson (Bierfest). The devastating dice throwing by a couple of the regiments in the Bierfest army was truly something to see. The only thing that saved the Schweinrot forces was the success of their Horse. They tied down 40% of the Bierfest army. So there was a glimmer of hope for both sides. Both generals were retained in command, though not the supreme command.
-------------
Both sides "absorbed" the "lessons" of this fight, even as delarations of war for this "unprovoked" attack were issued. More on that anon.
Tuesday, March 22, 2011
Questions - and some answers
I have received some questions about what I'm doing here, and I'll try to answer those I think are relevant, or that pique my curiosity.
#1 - Why Don't You Post More Often
This is a simple one. Real Life. Work has been busy, and there are other requests on my time, such as my writing, some home improvement, and the like. I'm no longer a full-time wargamer; sad, but true.
#2 - What About Other Rules? "Ruleset XYZ is Much Superior, and..."
Wargame rules are personal. There are a ton of game systems out there, and they don't always fit what each gamer is looking for. There are different philosophies and mechanics between, say, Warfare in the Age of Reason and Koenig Krieg, and my past experiences with both sets of rules have prejudiced me against one of them -- and no, I'm not saying which one, but those who have heard my stories will know. Everyone who wargames finds this or that set of rules with which they are comfortable. For me, Volley & Bayonet works for this period. It feels right. Now as to the difference between v.1 and v.2, that remains to be seen.
I would sooner argue religion than debate wargames rules. There are people who take it that personally. I will go on record as saying that I prefer Hordes of the Things as an ancients set to Shock of Impact, having played enough of both to have a very FIRM opinion, but that's it.
#3 - What About "Minor" battles?
That remains to be seen. However I will probably post a CRT for those. But the whole point of campaigning is to: a) give a reason for the battles; b) generate something other than the evenly matched fight. And while 4:1 is no fun to play, I've pulled off a rearguard action against an entirely mobile force, and made it work. I've also been on the wrong end of 3:1 odds from converging forces, and gotten away.
#4 - Why Hexes? Why Not . . . ?
Because I have this perfectly good hex map sitting downstairs gathering dust. Maurice de Saxe once wrote that you would be hard put to find a position that could hold 50,000 men in each province. There was almost a kind of positional warfare in the 18th Century because everyone knew the good positions, and they would use them. Frequently. A box-to-box campaign system such as in Soldier Kings is very good at replicating this. But I had this map, see... So why not?
#5 - Will There Be Pictures?
Yes.
#6 - Which Minor Countries Did You Choose?
I'm getting to that. Years ago, in a game of Blitzkrieg, I played a very nasty trick on my opponent. I did not invade one of the minor countries. I left a force watching the border, but I bypassed the country. Of course he had to do the same (detach a force) and those troops were a long way from the main front. That got me interested in those countries.
These two border on one of the major combatants of the game Blitzkrieg. They are both egged on by the larger power under the assumption that this is a good place to train officers, get some combat experience, and weaken these two minor countries for later seizure. However the other major power is pumping money into the area, too. This is giving these smaller countries a chance to buy a lot of troops that they could otherwise not afford. Will it suck the larger powers into a war? Perhaps. Smaller wars have a disturbing habit of becoming larger ones. But maybe saner heads will prevail at the Chancelleries. We shall see.
This conflict has been brewing for some time. The immediate cuase is a gold mine that is right on the border. As the very astute Duke of Plaza-toro, Ltd. (95 quarterings in arrears) once stated, "A Class A gold mine on the border is a causus belli." That has indeed proven true. Both of these minor countries realize they are being played, and are struggling to stand on their own two feet. Right now they have no realistic hope of a Woodrow Wilson showing up, mucking everything up out of pig-headed idealism, and laying the groundwork for a greater war. Those events lie in the future.
So, it is time to generate a border incident to spark the wider war. This will be a limited incursion by both sides, or something. Prince Tedron of Methylonia, who was ennobled for creating a border incident between two countries with no common border, will be consulted. And the details, and the actual combat, will be displayed very shortly.
#1 - Why Don't You Post More Often
This is a simple one. Real Life. Work has been busy, and there are other requests on my time, such as my writing, some home improvement, and the like. I'm no longer a full-time wargamer; sad, but true.
#2 - What About Other Rules? "Ruleset XYZ is Much Superior, and..."
Wargame rules are personal. There are a ton of game systems out there, and they don't always fit what each gamer is looking for. There are different philosophies and mechanics between, say, Warfare in the Age of Reason and Koenig Krieg, and my past experiences with both sets of rules have prejudiced me against one of them -- and no, I'm not saying which one, but those who have heard my stories will know. Everyone who wargames finds this or that set of rules with which they are comfortable. For me, Volley & Bayonet works for this period. It feels right. Now as to the difference between v.1 and v.2, that remains to be seen.
I would sooner argue religion than debate wargames rules. There are people who take it that personally. I will go on record as saying that I prefer Hordes of the Things as an ancients set to Shock of Impact, having played enough of both to have a very FIRM opinion, but that's it.
#3 - What About "Minor" battles?
That remains to be seen. However I will probably post a CRT for those. But the whole point of campaigning is to: a) give a reason for the battles; b) generate something other than the evenly matched fight. And while 4:1 is no fun to play, I've pulled off a rearguard action against an entirely mobile force, and made it work. I've also been on the wrong end of 3:1 odds from converging forces, and gotten away.
#4 - Why Hexes? Why Not . . . ?
Because I have this perfectly good hex map sitting downstairs gathering dust. Maurice de Saxe once wrote that you would be hard put to find a position that could hold 50,000 men in each province. There was almost a kind of positional warfare in the 18th Century because everyone knew the good positions, and they would use them. Frequently. A box-to-box campaign system such as in Soldier Kings is very good at replicating this. But I had this map, see... So why not?
#5 - Will There Be Pictures?
Yes.
#6 - Which Minor Countries Did You Choose?
I'm getting to that. Years ago, in a game of Blitzkrieg, I played a very nasty trick on my opponent. I did not invade one of the minor countries. I left a force watching the border, but I bypassed the country. Of course he had to do the same (detach a force) and those troops were a long way from the main front. That got me interested in those countries.
These two border on one of the major combatants of the game Blitzkrieg. They are both egged on by the larger power under the assumption that this is a good place to train officers, get some combat experience, and weaken these two minor countries for later seizure. However the other major power is pumping money into the area, too. This is giving these smaller countries a chance to buy a lot of troops that they could otherwise not afford. Will it suck the larger powers into a war? Perhaps. Smaller wars have a disturbing habit of becoming larger ones. But maybe saner heads will prevail at the Chancelleries. We shall see.
This conflict has been brewing for some time. The immediate cuase is a gold mine that is right on the border. As the very astute Duke of Plaza-toro, Ltd. (95 quarterings in arrears) once stated, "A Class A gold mine on the border is a causus belli." That has indeed proven true. Both of these minor countries realize they are being played, and are struggling to stand on their own two feet. Right now they have no realistic hope of a Woodrow Wilson showing up, mucking everything up out of pig-headed idealism, and laying the groundwork for a greater war. Those events lie in the future.
So, it is time to generate a border incident to spark the wider war. This will be a limited incursion by both sides, or something. Prince Tedron of Methylonia, who was ennobled for creating a border incident between two countries with no common border, will be consulted. And the details, and the actual combat, will be displayed very shortly.
Sunday, March 6, 2011
Correcting the Math
I had a private email pointing out that my method of assigning initiative would given an even application of skills, contrary to my post, and produce a general with an initiative of 4. Neither was what I intended. So it's time to do the old DM trick: choose different dice.
Average dice have a 2,3,3,4,4,5 and those tend to group in the middle. Low-average dice are similar, but produce numbers weighted for the low end. A typical one would be 1,2,2,3,3,4, but in this case I want a little more extreme, so let's use one that goes 1,1,2,2,3,4. Come to think about it, usually matches my die-rolling in a lot of games. If we only subtract one instead of two, we get a nice range of lower initiative generals.
So, that'll be the measure of the generals. And remember, we're rolling for "divisional" commanders and above. Think wing commanders and "column" commanders in this period as the division hadn't been invented until 1745, and then only in Maurice de Saxe's army in Flanders.
Now when one gets promoted through attrition, you get to roll his initiative all over again! This means the guy with the initiative of zero might turn out to have a three at the next level, and vice versa. There is such a thing as promoting beyond ones level. And there's historical justification for this. There are generals who got promoted simply because there wasn't anyone else available, who turned out to be great at the higher level.
One reader asked a bout "special promotions" where you promote someone due to valor. Not quite. Not in this period. Instead the worthy gets a promotion within the nobility. He might well be the model of a modern Major-General, but now, instead of being a Baron, he is a Duke. That makes for a less-expensive promotion from the monarch's point of view as that worthy has to maintain his social standing at his own expense. Expect peculation to increase. Another promotion might be to give him his own regiment (an already existing one, of course), but one he can rename after himself. At his own expense, of course; new gowns for the mistress and the wife are not cheap, and he has to purchase that regiment, and pay you. See? When you're the monarch, money-making opportunities abound (why do you think the new Elector of Hesse-Kassel, when he came into the title in 1760, doubled the number of regiments in his army by simply splitting all existing foot regiments in two? All of those new Colonel-Proprietors had to pay him the purchase price).
So now we go on to the armies.
Average dice have a 2,3,3,4,4,5 and those tend to group in the middle. Low-average dice are similar, but produce numbers weighted for the low end. A typical one would be 1,2,2,3,3,4, but in this case I want a little more extreme, so let's use one that goes 1,1,2,2,3,4. Come to think about it, usually matches my die-rolling in a lot of games. If we only subtract one instead of two, we get a nice range of lower initiative generals.
So, that'll be the measure of the generals. And remember, we're rolling for "divisional" commanders and above. Think wing commanders and "column" commanders in this period as the division hadn't been invented until 1745, and then only in Maurice de Saxe's army in Flanders.
Now when one gets promoted through attrition, you get to roll his initiative all over again! This means the guy with the initiative of zero might turn out to have a three at the next level, and vice versa. There is such a thing as promoting beyond ones level. And there's historical justification for this. There are generals who got promoted simply because there wasn't anyone else available, who turned out to be great at the higher level.
One reader asked a bout "special promotions" where you promote someone due to valor. Not quite. Not in this period. Instead the worthy gets a promotion within the nobility. He might well be the model of a modern Major-General, but now, instead of being a Baron, he is a Duke. That makes for a less-expensive promotion from the monarch's point of view as that worthy has to maintain his social standing at his own expense. Expect peculation to increase. Another promotion might be to give him his own regiment (an already existing one, of course), but one he can rename after himself. At his own expense, of course; new gowns for the mistress and the wife are not cheap, and he has to purchase that regiment, and pay you. See? When you're the monarch, money-making opportunities abound (why do you think the new Elector of Hesse-Kassel, when he came into the title in 1760, doubled the number of regiments in his army by simply splitting all existing foot regiments in two? All of those new Colonel-Proprietors had to pay him the purchase price).
So now we go on to the armies.
Saturday, March 5, 2011
Initiative and stuff
It's a sad but accurate comment that during times of peace the generals with initiative are discouraged, while those who know how to play the paperwork game are promoted. Read the poem by Rudyard Kipling, "Stellenbosch" for an example. The early part of any war is spent shaking out the fighting generals from those who can push paper. Both have their places and both are useful. It is a sad state of affairs that many people have to die while this is taking place.
But with that said, there are generals who are more "pushy" than others. Sometimes they can be identified early in the process. Robert E. Lee comes to mind. He was as good as everyone thought he would be. And he had tons of initiative.
What Is It?
What is this initiative? He's the officer who has his men ready to march or fight, and is up getting a jump on his foe while others are still in bed. Or, in better chosen words, he's that "...silly pushing person" that Kipling refers to in "Stellenbosch".
So we'll rate the generals in our armies for their initiative. This will be a number between -1 and +3 to rate how they react to things. A 3 might be Jeb Stuart or Nathan B. Forrest (to go with an ACW reference), while a -1 might be McClellan, who needed a strong reason to move. For those who want to quibble and suggest Burnside, it's clear that you haven't studied the Fredericksburg campaign. If those *&%*%$ pontoons had been in place, he'd be hailed as a Great Captain for stealing a march on Lee.
Determining Initiative
Nominate a general. Throw 1d6. Subtract 2. That number is the general's initiative. It is used when marching or force-marching. Thus Stack A, with a General in command with an initiative of 2 throws for movement. He throws a 2, and adds 2 for his initiative, for a total of 4 hexes he can move.
Look at Stack B. This is commanded by someone with an initiative of 3. He is force-marching for whatever reason. He throws a 5, plus the 3 for initiative gives him 8, though the max he can move is 6. But as his total was 6 or more on his force-march roll, he loses 3 SP through march attrition. Your higher initiative generals can get out of trouble, but they burn troops. And remember, there are no replacements during the campaign season.
Promoting Generals -
Before you roll for initiative we have to assign the seniority of generals. This is important because those with greater seniority cannot be in a stack, or have fewer men, than someone with a lesser seniority. Also, as generals are lost for whatever reason, promotion is strictly by seniority. To do otherwise would be to insult the honor of those generals. And if this means your army is commanded by a general with an initiative of 0 or -1, well, that kind of sucks.
Replacements
Not during the campaign season. After the campaign season ends troops enter winter quarters by going into a friendly unbesieged fortress and declaring they are in winter quarters. That means they are not subject to attrition due to bad weather. They also can't move. If the enemy is so crass as to then besiege that city, those troops will take part in the resulting open field fight before the siege starts.
During the winter season, while the officers and generals are off attending balls, the sergeants are busy rounding up fresh cannon-fodder. Basically all regiments that have at least one hit left on them are automatically filled out to full strength. Those regiments that were reduced to zero are "sent to the rear" and take no further part in the game. Moral - sometimes you want to give battle, but don't want to afford the losses that will happen. This also means that armies will get smaller the longer the war continues.
There are no new units created during the war. You have what you start with. This is because the administrative mess that would result is not worth the effort.
So, that SHOULD take care of the last of the details, now a look at the armies and the land they're going to campaign over. Then we'll have a shakedown cruise with a border incident.
But with that said, there are generals who are more "pushy" than others. Sometimes they can be identified early in the process. Robert E. Lee comes to mind. He was as good as everyone thought he would be. And he had tons of initiative.
What Is It?
What is this initiative? He's the officer who has his men ready to march or fight, and is up getting a jump on his foe while others are still in bed. Or, in better chosen words, he's that "...silly pushing person" that Kipling refers to in "Stellenbosch".
So we'll rate the generals in our armies for their initiative. This will be a number between -1 and +3 to rate how they react to things. A 3 might be Jeb Stuart or Nathan B. Forrest (to go with an ACW reference), while a -1 might be McClellan, who needed a strong reason to move. For those who want to quibble and suggest Burnside, it's clear that you haven't studied the Fredericksburg campaign. If those *&%*%$ pontoons had been in place, he'd be hailed as a Great Captain for stealing a march on Lee.
Determining Initiative
Nominate a general. Throw 1d6. Subtract 2. That number is the general's initiative. It is used when marching or force-marching. Thus Stack A, with a General in command with an initiative of 2 throws for movement. He throws a 2, and adds 2 for his initiative, for a total of 4 hexes he can move.
Look at Stack B. This is commanded by someone with an initiative of 3. He is force-marching for whatever reason. He throws a 5, plus the 3 for initiative gives him 8, though the max he can move is 6. But as his total was 6 or more on his force-march roll, he loses 3 SP through march attrition. Your higher initiative generals can get out of trouble, but they burn troops. And remember, there are no replacements during the campaign season.
Promoting Generals -
Before you roll for initiative we have to assign the seniority of generals. This is important because those with greater seniority cannot be in a stack, or have fewer men, than someone with a lesser seniority. Also, as generals are lost for whatever reason, promotion is strictly by seniority. To do otherwise would be to insult the honor of those generals. And if this means your army is commanded by a general with an initiative of 0 or -1, well, that kind of sucks.
Replacements
Not during the campaign season. After the campaign season ends troops enter winter quarters by going into a friendly unbesieged fortress and declaring they are in winter quarters. That means they are not subject to attrition due to bad weather. They also can't move. If the enemy is so crass as to then besiege that city, those troops will take part in the resulting open field fight before the siege starts.
During the winter season, while the officers and generals are off attending balls, the sergeants are busy rounding up fresh cannon-fodder. Basically all regiments that have at least one hit left on them are automatically filled out to full strength. Those regiments that were reduced to zero are "sent to the rear" and take no further part in the game. Moral - sometimes you want to give battle, but don't want to afford the losses that will happen. This also means that armies will get smaller the longer the war continues.
There are no new units created during the war. You have what you start with. This is because the administrative mess that would result is not worth the effort.
So, that SHOULD take care of the last of the details, now a look at the armies and the land they're going to campaign over. Then we'll have a shakedown cruise with a border incident.
Thursday, February 24, 2011
The Turn Sequence and Disorder
Years ago I likened the role of a turn sequence to the steps of a computer program. You follow the sequence in order, completing all steps one at a time. When you do, you get the result the game designer wanted. The hard part was designing that process by the game designer. And unlike what happened to me with a program I wrote for a billing system, I don't have people criticizing the "style" of the turn sequence (if you must know, it was written in COBOL and I used tricks learned in FORTRAN classes. I can't believe how many "so-called" sophisticated and "experienced" programmers have never heard of "computed GO-TOs" and "Fall-Through" coding; my sin was that I used hard "GO-TOs" not PERFORMS.)
For the turn sequence in these rules we'll use what was from Frederick the Great. Why? Well, it works, and it captures one of the most important things about 18th Century battle: that battle was a seduction, not a rape.
Okay, harsh analogy, but the deployment methods for an army were such that you really needed to march up the day before and offer battle. In the time it took you to perform your processional deployments, the other side could count noses, take the auguries, and decide they didn't like things, and march away. But SPI built a kicker into the whole thing. When you marched away, you used a "force march", and if you exceeded a 6, you burned troops. You added the general's initiative with the roll of a 1d6 to get the final total, and poor old Fritz, with an initiative of a 3, had a 50-50 chance of burning troops. But battle almost had to be by mutual agreement, hence the analogy.
So both sides get a chance to move, though they don't have to take it. And you have to put in some of the other things that happen. So let's jump in and take a stab at it.
For the turn sequence in these rules we'll use what was from Frederick the Great. Why? Well, it works, and it captures one of the most important things about 18th Century battle: that battle was a seduction, not a rape.
Okay, harsh analogy, but the deployment methods for an army were such that you really needed to march up the day before and offer battle. In the time it took you to perform your processional deployments, the other side could count noses, take the auguries, and decide they didn't like things, and march away. But SPI built a kicker into the whole thing. When you marched away, you used a "force march", and if you exceeded a 6, you burned troops. You added the general's initiative with the roll of a 1d6 to get the final total, and poor old Fritz, with an initiative of a 3, had a 50-50 chance of burning troops. But battle almost had to be by mutual agreement, hence the analogy.
So both sides get a chance to move, though they don't have to take it. And you have to put in some of the other things that happen. So let's jump in and take a stab at it.
- Depot Creation
- Roll to Remove Disorders*
- Side A rolls for movement
- Side A moves
- Side B announces any forced marches
- Side B rolls for those forced marches
- Side B executes those forced marches
- Combat
- Repeat 2-7 for Side B
- Supply checking and attrition
- Roll for sieges
That's enough for a start.
Disorder
This is the collective funk that an army goes through after a defeat. An army that fights a battle and loses, is "disordered". This means all morale values are reduced by one. These values are calculated after losses have been calculated and adjudicated. Also, a stack subtracts one from their forced march roll when they are "disordered".
To get the troops back in "order" there are two methods. First, a general (the senior-most general on the stack) rolls against his initiative. If he throws his initiative number or less, the troops are put back in order. The other method is for the stack to move to a friendly fortress, and stay inside for a complete turn. Thus: army enters on Turn 4. They stay there for all of Turn 5. On Turn 6 they are no longer "disordered" and can leave with their post combat losses morale and no longer suffering the -1 on the forced march roll.
We'll talk about the initiative values of our generals later.
Sunday, February 20, 2011
Ah, Generals
Everyone who has played rules I've written know that I like dead generals. The air around a battlefield has a high metallic content, and generals are not bulletproof (as Marshal Vauban reminded Louis XIV). Even Emperor Charles V (known to those who took more than one year of Spanish as Carlos Quinto) tried to laugh off the danger ("Who ever heard of a cannoball killing an Emperor?"), but the danger was real. Marshal Turenne was killed by a cannon shot, and bullets and cannons cut a swath through the ranks of Napoleon's marshals (Oudinot was wounded 23 times), while the American Civil War was replete with the loss of general officers. The men tended to fire just a little high, and mounted officers were right in the middle of the danger zone.
Usually I have a little fun with general officer casualties. For example, in King's War a player who loses a general throws a 1d10 and reads the results from a table. There the results go from the general KIA right away to "general mortally wounded. Faithful aides lower him from his horse. He gasps out some final words for a grateful posterity. Players must compose those last words." This adds some fun as those "last words" go from "who ordered this stupid charge?" to some uplifting and heroic statements. The game actually stops while people labor at their "last words".
Sad to say, in Volley & Bayonet, Road to Glory, there isn't really room for that, at least at the highest level. This makes sense as the turns are one hour, and that is enough time to sort out the command changes caused by a bullet. This is a pity as it adds an element that I think is kind of fun. At the lower level this can be worked into the game.
What is the effect of a general being removed from the battle? Loss of command and control. Units lose coordination, orders are not obeyed, and so on. But in a one hour turn? The loss of a general, while personally bad, doesn't have a big effect in game turns. However...
If a general is within 3" of a unit that takes any kind of fire (artillery or small arms), throw 1d6. On a 6 the general is down and a replacement takes over. This is only applicable on the map where the general's counter is removed. He is either dead, or is back in the capital, reclining in bed, eating sweetmeats, intriguing against his fellow-generals, and being seduced by all of the right women. Players can make up whatever stories they wish about the general. He is available for the next season.
~~~~~~~~~~~
What's next? The effects of defeat on an army. And the odds and ends in the rules that need to be covered. We also have to discuss the countries (where they are on the map, etc.) and the armies (including the official Order of Battle).
And then we get into putting the pieces together courtesy of Prince Tedron of Methylonia (who once arranged a border clash between two countries with no common border) in a mini-campaign done as a solo map exercise.
Then...on to the campaign!
Usually I have a little fun with general officer casualties. For example, in King's War a player who loses a general throws a 1d10 and reads the results from a table. There the results go from the general KIA right away to "general mortally wounded. Faithful aides lower him from his horse. He gasps out some final words for a grateful posterity. Players must compose those last words." This adds some fun as those "last words" go from "who ordered this stupid charge?" to some uplifting and heroic statements. The game actually stops while people labor at their "last words".
Sad to say, in Volley & Bayonet, Road to Glory, there isn't really room for that, at least at the highest level. This makes sense as the turns are one hour, and that is enough time to sort out the command changes caused by a bullet. This is a pity as it adds an element that I think is kind of fun. At the lower level this can be worked into the game.
What is the effect of a general being removed from the battle? Loss of command and control. Units lose coordination, orders are not obeyed, and so on. But in a one hour turn? The loss of a general, while personally bad, doesn't have a big effect in game turns. However...
If a general is within 3" of a unit that takes any kind of fire (artillery or small arms), throw 1d6. On a 6 the general is down and a replacement takes over. This is only applicable on the map where the general's counter is removed. He is either dead, or is back in the capital, reclining in bed, eating sweetmeats, intriguing against his fellow-generals, and being seduced by all of the right women. Players can make up whatever stories they wish about the general. He is available for the next season.
~~~~~~~~~~~
What's next? The effects of defeat on an army. And the odds and ends in the rules that need to be covered. We also have to discuss the countries (where they are on the map, etc.) and the armies (including the official Order of Battle).
And then we get into putting the pieces together courtesy of Prince Tedron of Methylonia (who once arranged a border clash between two countries with no common border) in a mini-campaign done as a solo map exercise.
Then...on to the campaign!
Thursday, February 17, 2011
Operational Level Gaming
I was first introduced to this by an old SPI boardgame whose name escapes me at the moment. What struck me at the time was how I would do the "proper" boardgame tactic and mass enough forces to wipe out the enemy, only to have that blasted counter fall back instead. I was used to the D-Elim combat results, and it took a little reading to remember that units were not normally wiped out in the course of a fight. Oh, granted, in WW2 there were armored units that ended up with no tanks functioning at the end of a fight, but there were other assets in the division/brigade/combat command/kampfgruppe.
A few months later I saw one of the best microarmor games ever. There was a crossroad with only one or two buildings, not enough to be much of a strongpoint. But right nearby was a large wooded hill. The enemy had an observation post up there, and no tank was going to go wandering through the trees. This was a job for the infantry (much despised by a lot of treadheads). In they went. Artillery fired in support, but two turns after it was requested. And that meant that it wasn't always accurate, had to be adjusted, and so on. Both sides got stuck in, reinforcements were sent in, and quite a lively battle developed. I don't recall who won. I do know that everyone appeared to have a good time, and all of the fearsome armor on both sides sat around doing very little.
I watched that, and wondered why nobody tried to outflank the position. A week later (we were gaming every weekend at a local hobby shop) I saw someone stare at a position, and decide to turn it. We ended up with a map game for a bit, and then got stuck in as a small force (mine) fought a delaying action while reinforcements marched to the scene. This was very much what nobody had expected. And it was a lot of fun.
This wasn't always likely in the 18th Century, especially the earlier part. Armies (and generals) were still in the unitary mode. This meant that you concentrated everything on the field of battle, being as strong as you could at the point of contact. The Duke of Marlbofough tried something different on the battlefield that 100 years later became Waterloo, having his brother with 20 battalions hidden behind the enemy position, but the Dutch Deputy on Mission, Slangenburg, couldn't see it and managed to hold things up enough that the battle was not fought. Marlbofough didn't try that again. Well, okay, Overkirk at Oudenaarde, but not after that.
Part of the problem was communications. Part of it was administrative, and part was social. After a bit you didn't say no to the CiC, even if you didn't agree with him. Marlborough managed to overawe his subordinates enough. Frederick tried managing separate forces at Torgau, and showed how all of the problems you had when someone didn't keep to the timetable. The Austrians in the Seven Years War were pretty good at the different columns concept, but Maria Theresa would remove the generals who caused problems. And de Saxe, in the War of the Austrian Succession managed to make it work, but by then he was a Marshal-General, and only the King and Dauphin outranked him. Even the most pig-headed member of the French nobility had to take orders from that "Lutheran bastard".
Now part of it was also doctrine. As I said, these were unitary armies. The detached columns were the province of only the top generals. It wasn't "normal", and it took both the invention of the division (pioneered in 1745 by de Saxe) and a few books on mountain warfare before the idea began to work its way through the officer corps. But you needed a common doctrine, staff as well as otherwise, and that didn't happen very often. The Austrian staff advances in the Seven Years War deteriorated afterwards because it wasn't encoded and become part of the regulations. The French finally achieved it in the 1790s, and others copied it. It brought a flexibility to warfare that made things a lot more fluid.
So how do we imitate this on the tabletop? Well, we don't, not directly. I know of one attempt right now, sort of a "narrative" campaign. You issue orders ("Brigade A to move from Point A to Point B"), and the GM carries them out. Will it work? Perhaps. I hope so, but it depends upon the GM.
For our miniatures campaign, there is nothing to stop players from using detached forces to achieve campaign objectives. But be warned, small forces can suddenly confront the enemy main army and get crushed. I've fought tabletop battles where I was outnumbered 3:1, and it is no fun. I escaped, but that was more due to the enemy not talking with each other.
So look for fights where one side is outnumbered, and not by a little bit. Expect some huge disparities. But also realize that while one side can be outnumbered at Point A, that means they probably outnumber the other side at Point B. Tit for tat. That is one of the reasons we fight miniatures campaigns. It sure isn't to generate "even" fights. (insert rant about "even" fights here).
A few months later I saw one of the best microarmor games ever. There was a crossroad with only one or two buildings, not enough to be much of a strongpoint. But right nearby was a large wooded hill. The enemy had an observation post up there, and no tank was going to go wandering through the trees. This was a job for the infantry (much despised by a lot of treadheads). In they went. Artillery fired in support, but two turns after it was requested. And that meant that it wasn't always accurate, had to be adjusted, and so on. Both sides got stuck in, reinforcements were sent in, and quite a lively battle developed. I don't recall who won. I do know that everyone appeared to have a good time, and all of the fearsome armor on both sides sat around doing very little.
I watched that, and wondered why nobody tried to outflank the position. A week later (we were gaming every weekend at a local hobby shop) I saw someone stare at a position, and decide to turn it. We ended up with a map game for a bit, and then got stuck in as a small force (mine) fought a delaying action while reinforcements marched to the scene. This was very much what nobody had expected. And it was a lot of fun.
This wasn't always likely in the 18th Century, especially the earlier part. Armies (and generals) were still in the unitary mode. This meant that you concentrated everything on the field of battle, being as strong as you could at the point of contact. The Duke of Marlbofough tried something different on the battlefield that 100 years later became Waterloo, having his brother with 20 battalions hidden behind the enemy position, but the Dutch Deputy on Mission, Slangenburg, couldn't see it and managed to hold things up enough that the battle was not fought. Marlbofough didn't try that again. Well, okay, Overkirk at Oudenaarde, but not after that.
Part of the problem was communications. Part of it was administrative, and part was social. After a bit you didn't say no to the CiC, even if you didn't agree with him. Marlborough managed to overawe his subordinates enough. Frederick tried managing separate forces at Torgau, and showed how all of the problems you had when someone didn't keep to the timetable. The Austrians in the Seven Years War were pretty good at the different columns concept, but Maria Theresa would remove the generals who caused problems. And de Saxe, in the War of the Austrian Succession managed to make it work, but by then he was a Marshal-General, and only the King and Dauphin outranked him. Even the most pig-headed member of the French nobility had to take orders from that "Lutheran bastard".
Now part of it was also doctrine. As I said, these were unitary armies. The detached columns were the province of only the top generals. It wasn't "normal", and it took both the invention of the division (pioneered in 1745 by de Saxe) and a few books on mountain warfare before the idea began to work its way through the officer corps. But you needed a common doctrine, staff as well as otherwise, and that didn't happen very often. The Austrian staff advances in the Seven Years War deteriorated afterwards because it wasn't encoded and become part of the regulations. The French finally achieved it in the 1790s, and others copied it. It brought a flexibility to warfare that made things a lot more fluid.
So how do we imitate this on the tabletop? Well, we don't, not directly. I know of one attempt right now, sort of a "narrative" campaign. You issue orders ("Brigade A to move from Point A to Point B"), and the GM carries them out. Will it work? Perhaps. I hope so, but it depends upon the GM.
For our miniatures campaign, there is nothing to stop players from using detached forces to achieve campaign objectives. But be warned, small forces can suddenly confront the enemy main army and get crushed. I've fought tabletop battles where I was outnumbered 3:1, and it is no fun. I escaped, but that was more due to the enemy not talking with each other.
So look for fights where one side is outnumbered, and not by a little bit. Expect some huge disparities. But also realize that while one side can be outnumbered at Point A, that means they probably outnumber the other side at Point B. Tit for tat. That is one of the reasons we fight miniatures campaigns. It sure isn't to generate "even" fights. (insert rant about "even" fights here).
Sunday, February 13, 2011
In Praise of Different Scales
Campaign Rules blogging will cease for a moment to respond to reader Jeff's comments, and one possible solution.
Jeff points out that if you have a deployment area that goes to the edge of the board, you will have players that will rest their flank there. This is true. I have seen players anchor one flank on the edge, and another on the back edge of the table, deploying obliquely so they do not have a flank that can be turned.
Now while we can't use the German solution to make a single breakthrough, create two flanks, and then turn both (you have to admit it's more efficient that way), there are two competing things, perhaps three going on.
First, gamers will be gamers, and if you give them the opportunity, there are some who will get every advantage they can out of the rules. I do and don't have a problem with this. Rules can be interpreted. However the interpretation should be backed up by historical evidence (even though this is a game), and should be consistent. The ones I don't like are those who will argue vehemently for Option A when it favors them, and then, just as vehemently, argue against Option A when it is turned against them. So when you write rules you have to take into account these people. One way is to do what Phil Barker did with DBA/DBMM and prescribe deployment areas to get a straight-ahead battle. This works in the Ancient and Medieval periods, but not so well in later eras where the whole point was to create an uneven battle.
Second, "Let the Bazaine's be Bazaine". Each gamer comes with some inherent military ability. It may be well-hidden, or strictly limited. But let them exercise it. Do NOT dictate anything to them that forces them to behave in an ahistoric manner. Do not get in the way of a gamer making a blunder. DO get in the way of one wanting to act in a way that is outside of the period. So the 18th Century gamer who wanted to move his men forward in loose swarms and skirmish lines was disappointed. That wasn't contemporary military thought.
Okay, let's look at scales; 28mm, 15mm, 6mm, and the like. Using V&B, RtG scale of 3" for 1500 men, my 8' wide table can hold 32 units in a single frontage. If foot, that's 48,000 men. That, by the way, is regardless of whether you use large figures, or small. If we go to the 2/3rds scale, that is 48 units, which is 72,000 men. That's just the first line. Double the numbers for the size of the army.
If, say, we went with the scale in Little Big Battles, a battalion taking up 1.5", a division of 10 battalions comes to 15" in a single line; 8" when deployed properly. There is nothing so beautiful as to see someone deploying a corps of three divisions of infantry, a division of cavalry, and guns, and realizing that he has two exposed flanks. Anchoring everything on hills/villages becomes sensible. And all of that beautiful cavalry gets sucked to the flanks for scouting and protecting, not available for thundering charges.
But as beautiful as the smaller figures are (I have a friend who painted glasses on his Marshal Davout figure in 6mm!), and they do get the spectacle you want of a large battle (I did a refight of the only major Austrian/Russian battle in the Invasion of Russia in 1812 and people were taken with the spectacle because the attack looked like two divisions going forward), the overall spectacle of miniatures was lost on the casual observer.
The guys in Oregon did Blenheim, Ramillies, and Oudenarde in 28mm. A 28mm figure, ostensibly 25mm, but my belief is that the figure designers longed for the old 30mm Surens, and so "scale creep" took place, which might explain why 15mm figures are now large 18mm, closer to the old 20s, is nearly five times the size of a 6mm figure. That's 25 times the volume with the requisite surface area. It looks big and impressive. This is what the casual observer expects to see when he wanders into a Con. And they look suitably impressed when you tell them that each figure was painted by hand.
Now, in my opinion, those larger figures look better when you have a large number of figures in a unit. In the smaller scales we can somehow get away with 6-8 castings equal a battalion, and people will "believe" it. I think that in the larger scales you need to go to 24-30 castings per battalion. Bill Protz fielded his Protzdam Grenadiers with 60 castings in the unit, and it was breathtaking. Mike Lonie did the Coldstream Guards in 25mm, a 60 casting unit, and it was like a red wall stretching across the battlefield. Gesturing at something that could be covered by a single sheet of paper, and telling people that that was the entire French Imperial Guard circa 1808 didn't seem as breathtaking.
And face it, the spectacle is important.
And this is the beauty of gaming. Every person finds what is "right" for them. If they want three corps on the tabletop with both flanks open, or they want enough metal figures that they have to get special shocks for their car (Isandlwhana in 30mm with all troops present on both sides!), there is room for them.
~~~~~~~
So how does this "fix" the problem with people resting both flanks on the edge of the world? Even "deployment areas" have their problem. At a DBA game in California Phil Barker found himself so hemmed in by an enemy built Up Area and impassable terrain that he could only send his troops forward in a single column one element wide, where he was promptly smashed by his clever opponent. An extreme example, mind you (and the rules for Built Up Areas changed right after that - go figure), but an example of what can happen. The other problem with a designated "deployment area" is there might be more troops present than the ground can handle. This invites what we call "rout in echelon" where Unit A runs backwards into Unit B; both then run into Unit C, and so on. Don't laugh. In the rules Shock of Impact I had that happen more than once, enough that I don't play those rules at all. Ever.
So what is to be done? Recall that the intended miniatures rules are Volley & Bayonet, Road to Glory with 3" linear bases for the foot, and 3" square bases for the horse. See the above point about the maximum amount that can be put on an 8' table. With that in mind, a deployment area of sorts becomes necessary. So, after all of this (hopefully not tedious) wandering, we come to the following:
Deployment
Players cannot deploy within 12" of either side edge of the table, and cannot deploy closer to the enemy than 24".
This gives a "deployment box" six feet wide on an eight foot wide table, and two feet deep on both sides, assuming a six-foot deep table.
Now why V&B? Well, I like it, it's simple yet subtle, and it doesn't matter if you use 2mm figures, hair-curlers, or 40mm castings, as long as you use the same base size.
That said, I sill like the idea of players suddenly realizing that they have two open flanks on the tabletop. In a lot of gamers that induces a "fear of defeat" and they get cautious. In a few others, it makes them a lot more reckless and aggressive. Just one of those things.
Jeff points out that if you have a deployment area that goes to the edge of the board, you will have players that will rest their flank there. This is true. I have seen players anchor one flank on the edge, and another on the back edge of the table, deploying obliquely so they do not have a flank that can be turned.
Now while we can't use the German solution to make a single breakthrough, create two flanks, and then turn both (you have to admit it's more efficient that way), there are two competing things, perhaps three going on.
First, gamers will be gamers, and if you give them the opportunity, there are some who will get every advantage they can out of the rules. I do and don't have a problem with this. Rules can be interpreted. However the interpretation should be backed up by historical evidence (even though this is a game), and should be consistent. The ones I don't like are those who will argue vehemently for Option A when it favors them, and then, just as vehemently, argue against Option A when it is turned against them. So when you write rules you have to take into account these people. One way is to do what Phil Barker did with DBA/DBMM and prescribe deployment areas to get a straight-ahead battle. This works in the Ancient and Medieval periods, but not so well in later eras where the whole point was to create an uneven battle.
Second, "Let the Bazaine's be Bazaine". Each gamer comes with some inherent military ability. It may be well-hidden, or strictly limited. But let them exercise it. Do NOT dictate anything to them that forces them to behave in an ahistoric manner. Do not get in the way of a gamer making a blunder. DO get in the way of one wanting to act in a way that is outside of the period. So the 18th Century gamer who wanted to move his men forward in loose swarms and skirmish lines was disappointed. That wasn't contemporary military thought.
Okay, let's look at scales; 28mm, 15mm, 6mm, and the like. Using V&B, RtG scale of 3" for 1500 men, my 8' wide table can hold 32 units in a single frontage. If foot, that's 48,000 men. That, by the way, is regardless of whether you use large figures, or small. If we go to the 2/3rds scale, that is 48 units, which is 72,000 men. That's just the first line. Double the numbers for the size of the army.
If, say, we went with the scale in Little Big Battles, a battalion taking up 1.5", a division of 10 battalions comes to 15" in a single line; 8" when deployed properly. There is nothing so beautiful as to see someone deploying a corps of three divisions of infantry, a division of cavalry, and guns, and realizing that he has two exposed flanks. Anchoring everything on hills/villages becomes sensible. And all of that beautiful cavalry gets sucked to the flanks for scouting and protecting, not available for thundering charges.
But as beautiful as the smaller figures are (I have a friend who painted glasses on his Marshal Davout figure in 6mm!), and they do get the spectacle you want of a large battle (I did a refight of the only major Austrian/Russian battle in the Invasion of Russia in 1812 and people were taken with the spectacle because the attack looked like two divisions going forward), the overall spectacle of miniatures was lost on the casual observer.
The guys in Oregon did Blenheim, Ramillies, and Oudenarde in 28mm. A 28mm figure, ostensibly 25mm, but my belief is that the figure designers longed for the old 30mm Surens, and so "scale creep" took place, which might explain why 15mm figures are now large 18mm, closer to the old 20s, is nearly five times the size of a 6mm figure. That's 25 times the volume with the requisite surface area. It looks big and impressive. This is what the casual observer expects to see when he wanders into a Con. And they look suitably impressed when you tell them that each figure was painted by hand.
Now, in my opinion, those larger figures look better when you have a large number of figures in a unit. In the smaller scales we can somehow get away with 6-8 castings equal a battalion, and people will "believe" it. I think that in the larger scales you need to go to 24-30 castings per battalion. Bill Protz fielded his Protzdam Grenadiers with 60 castings in the unit, and it was breathtaking. Mike Lonie did the Coldstream Guards in 25mm, a 60 casting unit, and it was like a red wall stretching across the battlefield. Gesturing at something that could be covered by a single sheet of paper, and telling people that that was the entire French Imperial Guard circa 1808 didn't seem as breathtaking.
And face it, the spectacle is important.
And this is the beauty of gaming. Every person finds what is "right" for them. If they want three corps on the tabletop with both flanks open, or they want enough metal figures that they have to get special shocks for their car (Isandlwhana in 30mm with all troops present on both sides!), there is room for them.
~~~~~~~
So how does this "fix" the problem with people resting both flanks on the edge of the world? Even "deployment areas" have their problem. At a DBA game in California Phil Barker found himself so hemmed in by an enemy built Up Area and impassable terrain that he could only send his troops forward in a single column one element wide, where he was promptly smashed by his clever opponent. An extreme example, mind you (and the rules for Built Up Areas changed right after that - go figure), but an example of what can happen. The other problem with a designated "deployment area" is there might be more troops present than the ground can handle. This invites what we call "rout in echelon" where Unit A runs backwards into Unit B; both then run into Unit C, and so on. Don't laugh. In the rules Shock of Impact I had that happen more than once, enough that I don't play those rules at all. Ever.
So what is to be done? Recall that the intended miniatures rules are Volley & Bayonet, Road to Glory with 3" linear bases for the foot, and 3" square bases for the horse. See the above point about the maximum amount that can be put on an 8' table. With that in mind, a deployment area of sorts becomes necessary. So, after all of this (hopefully not tedious) wandering, we come to the following:
Deployment
Players cannot deploy within 12" of either side edge of the table, and cannot deploy closer to the enemy than 24".
This gives a "deployment box" six feet wide on an eight foot wide table, and two feet deep on both sides, assuming a six-foot deep table.
Now why V&B? Well, I like it, it's simple yet subtle, and it doesn't matter if you use 2mm figures, hair-curlers, or 40mm castings, as long as you use the same base size.
That said, I sill like the idea of players suddenly realizing that they have two open flanks on the tabletop. In a lot of gamers that induces a "fear of defeat" and they get cautious. In a few others, it makes them a lot more reckless and aggressive. Just one of those things.
Friday, February 4, 2011
Siege Rules
We could fight the siege out on the tabletop. I wrote the siege rules in Age of Reason, and have done quite a few tabletop sieges. It's way different than an open field fight. A field battle is kind of fluid. There's movement, and things ebb and flow. In a siege, everything feels static. But there's a certain inevitability. But, let's assume that we don't have a table to dedicate to this, or the miniature fortress.
The Basics
A siege is really an exercise in supply. By the 18th Century a siege was more or less semi-predictable. As a rule of thumb, seven weeks after the opening of trenches, the defenders should be in a position to surrender. Now this assumes a whole lot of things go right with the supply. But in 1708 a lot of the campaign focused around prosecuting or defending the siege of Lille. In fact, if one wants a mini-campaign, that is the perfect excuse.
So, the attacker has to establish a valid depot on the city. That represents the siege works. Every turn that the depot is in supply, the attacker throws 1d6 and subtracts that number from the siege value of the fortress. When the siege value is zero or less, the fortress surrenders.
Now when making this die throw, every time a six is thrown, the attacker loses a strength point. If there is a garrison other than the "automatic" one (i.e. field troops sheltering in the fortress) they move to the nearest unbesieged friendly fortress. If there aren't any, they become prisoners of war to be exchanged later.
For those who thinks this means sieges will be too short, an average fortress siege strength of 14 should be sufficient.
What of the defender? What recourse do they have? They can try to break the supply line, which keeps the siege die throw from happening.
Extra about Supply
All troops outside of a fortress lose three strength points every turn starting on the November 1st turn. So a force that is 20 strength points on the December 15th turn, will be on their third turn of attrition. Readers will note that the average depot will suddenly go ungarrisoned due to attrition, putting all sorts of people out of supply. The lesson here is to go into winter quarters in a fortress.
Troops who are in a fortress on the November 1st turn are automatically considered in Winter Quarters, and cannot come out of them.
So now we can move the troops, and feed them. We've also given a reason for the campaigns. So now we will turn our attention to such things as recon, and things like that. Then we will have to deal with the diplomatic situation, and the early stages as the armies mobilize and gear up for war.
The Basics
A siege is really an exercise in supply. By the 18th Century a siege was more or less semi-predictable. As a rule of thumb, seven weeks after the opening of trenches, the defenders should be in a position to surrender. Now this assumes a whole lot of things go right with the supply. But in 1708 a lot of the campaign focused around prosecuting or defending the siege of Lille. In fact, if one wants a mini-campaign, that is the perfect excuse.
So, the attacker has to establish a valid depot on the city. That represents the siege works. Every turn that the depot is in supply, the attacker throws 1d6 and subtracts that number from the siege value of the fortress. When the siege value is zero or less, the fortress surrenders.
Now when making this die throw, every time a six is thrown, the attacker loses a strength point. If there is a garrison other than the "automatic" one (i.e. field troops sheltering in the fortress) they move to the nearest unbesieged friendly fortress. If there aren't any, they become prisoners of war to be exchanged later.
For those who thinks this means sieges will be too short, an average fortress siege strength of 14 should be sufficient.
What of the defender? What recourse do they have? They can try to break the supply line, which keeps the siege die throw from happening.
Extra about Supply
All troops outside of a fortress lose three strength points every turn starting on the November 1st turn. So a force that is 20 strength points on the December 15th turn, will be on their third turn of attrition. Readers will note that the average depot will suddenly go ungarrisoned due to attrition, putting all sorts of people out of supply. The lesson here is to go into winter quarters in a fortress.
Troops who are in a fortress on the November 1st turn are automatically considered in Winter Quarters, and cannot come out of them.
So now we can move the troops, and feed them. We've also given a reason for the campaigns. So now we will turn our attention to such things as recon, and things like that. Then we will have to deal with the diplomatic situation, and the early stages as the armies mobilize and gear up for war.
Tuesday, February 1, 2011
Movement
Basics
In the game Frederick the Great, a turn is a couple weeks. That originally seemed too long; but after doing some thinking, that could amount to 30 turns in a campaign season.. So that seems adequate for a game, and means we don't have to tie ourselves down to a specific movement rate. Aside, I can remember a treadhead getting upset because "everyone knew" that a Panther tank could move at 30 miles per hour, and the movement rate in one game implied that they only moved at 10 miles per hour. Somehow the concept that tanks were not ships couldn't sink in.
The basis of movement is the hex. The map for Blitzkrieg is covered with hexes. Movement from one hex to the next costs one movement point. But the different terrain types will cost more. For rules purposes any terrain other than clear costs one movement point more. Thus rough terrain is woods, and hills. Crossing a river or entering a an enemy occupied hex costs one movement point more.
It might seem odd that there aren't different kinds of woods, and we don't take into account mountains. Armies tend to stay away from jungles, The Wilderness, the Alps, and so on. That's because armies have to eat. There's a good reason armies campaigned in rich agricultureal districts.
What about rivers? These are rivers significant from a military obstacle. This means th the stream that barely comes to the knees won't effect an army, but the Rhine is. So crossing a river might involve a ford such as the Rappahanock, or a bridging train. So one extra movement point more.
Roads are not your ordinary dirt path, or the ones that go from village to village. Roads paved with good bridges, drainage, and things like that. So roads negate terrain, and forces on a road pay only 1/2 movement point as long as they stay on the road.
Initiative
Troops cannot move without a general (well, there's one exception, but this is voluntary movement).
Generals are rated for their 'get up and go'. Take a look at the Kipling poem "Stellenbosch". Some generals are more willing to move than others. In Freddie terms, this is a number that you add to the throw of 1d6 to to find out how far the general moves (and the men with him). Some generals are really sluggish, and this number is negative. Some will march their troops into the ground, and have the initiative of three. The most a stack can have is six movement points. If the resulting modified die throw is greater than six, there will be attrition (which we'll cover later).
Generals have ranks, and they must be moved in the order of their seniority. The highest ranking general in the stack is the one who controls the whole stack for initiative.
What about cavalry? Don't they move faster? Well, yes, and no. Horses get tired, need periodic rest, and so on. In the American Civil War there were cavalry raids galore, but the horses walked, didn't trot. Cavalry commanders out-thought their pursuers, not outran them. After all, the column gains its strength from all of the men/horses together, so losing them due to stragglers means you weaken their power. So they move at the walk, which is about the same as a walking man. While this isn't intuitively obvious, horses aren't motorcycles or bicycles. They need periodic rest, food, and water.
What about force marches? Actually, this isn't a column running, it's troops marching when normally they would be resting. The Union VI Corps, on its march to Gettysburg, did a force-march and traveled 31 miles in 24 hour period. Marlborough's men, on their way to Oudenarde, did a force-march, and covered 50 miles in one day! Note, 10-15 was normal.
So all of this will move stacks of troops around the map. Next we'll cover what happens when they need to eat. Supply can be complicated (I've written some complex supply rules), but they can also be simple and yet effective.
In the game Frederick the Great, a turn is a couple weeks. That originally seemed too long; but after doing some thinking, that could amount to 30 turns in a campaign season.. So that seems adequate for a game, and means we don't have to tie ourselves down to a specific movement rate. Aside, I can remember a treadhead getting upset because "everyone knew" that a Panther tank could move at 30 miles per hour, and the movement rate in one game implied that they only moved at 10 miles per hour. Somehow the concept that tanks were not ships couldn't sink in.
The basis of movement is the hex. The map for Blitzkrieg is covered with hexes. Movement from one hex to the next costs one movement point. But the different terrain types will cost more. For rules purposes any terrain other than clear costs one movement point more. Thus rough terrain is woods, and hills. Crossing a river or entering a an enemy occupied hex costs one movement point more.
It might seem odd that there aren't different kinds of woods, and we don't take into account mountains. Armies tend to stay away from jungles, The Wilderness, the Alps, and so on. That's because armies have to eat. There's a good reason armies campaigned in rich agricultureal districts.
What about rivers? These are rivers significant from a military obstacle. This means th the stream that barely comes to the knees won't effect an army, but the Rhine is. So crossing a river might involve a ford such as the Rappahanock, or a bridging train. So one extra movement point more.
Roads are not your ordinary dirt path, or the ones that go from village to village. Roads paved with good bridges, drainage, and things like that. So roads negate terrain, and forces on a road pay only 1/2 movement point as long as they stay on the road.
Initiative
Troops cannot move without a general (well, there's one exception, but this is voluntary movement).
Generals are rated for their 'get up and go'. Take a look at the Kipling poem "Stellenbosch". Some generals are more willing to move than others. In Freddie terms, this is a number that you add to the throw of 1d6 to to find out how far the general moves (and the men with him). Some generals are really sluggish, and this number is negative. Some will march their troops into the ground, and have the initiative of three. The most a stack can have is six movement points. If the resulting modified die throw is greater than six, there will be attrition (which we'll cover later).
Generals have ranks, and they must be moved in the order of their seniority. The highest ranking general in the stack is the one who controls the whole stack for initiative.
What about cavalry? Don't they move faster? Well, yes, and no. Horses get tired, need periodic rest, and so on. In the American Civil War there were cavalry raids galore, but the horses walked, didn't trot. Cavalry commanders out-thought their pursuers, not outran them. After all, the column gains its strength from all of the men/horses together, so losing them due to stragglers means you weaken their power. So they move at the walk, which is about the same as a walking man. While this isn't intuitively obvious, horses aren't motorcycles or bicycles. They need periodic rest, food, and water.
What about force marches? Actually, this isn't a column running, it's troops marching when normally they would be resting. The Union VI Corps, on its march to Gettysburg, did a force-march and traveled 31 miles in 24 hour period. Marlborough's men, on their way to Oudenarde, did a force-march, and covered 50 miles in one day! Note, 10-15 was normal.
So all of this will move stacks of troops around the map. Next we'll cover what happens when they need to eat. Supply can be complicated (I've written some complex supply rules), but they can also be simple and yet effective.
Sunday, January 30, 2011
The Project
I haven't given up on miniatures gaming, I've just been terriby lax about it. But any hobby you've pursued for 48 years cannot be put aside completely. So this is the inception of The Project.
What is it?
I have often felt the best tabletop games are generated by a campaign system. Years ago Jeff Cox and I did a campaign using the old SPI map for Cobra, and fighting the battles with the King's War Rules. It was a lot of fun, and we soon had a result. We also had a lot of battles that had reasons for being, and were not even fights on even terrain. Back in Indiana I took part in a WW1 Naval Campaign in the Med, and we mostly used General Quarters to resolve the fights, though some other rules were used for small ships and small-sized actions. We had really interesting fights that involved unequal forces, and the battles had strategic consequences.
This latter is often missing from most tabletop games. Oh, you're told that seizing this town or that ridge will give you a strategic victory, but too often there is a fight to the last soldier. With a campaign you have to preserve your forces for another day.
IMHO one of the best campaign systems around for boardgames was Frederick the Great, originally by SPI, but later Avalon Hill. You quickly learned that you could fight lots of battles, and have no army left, or you could preserve your forces, fight only when the situation warranted it, and spend a lot of time worrying about supply, your objective (usually a fortress), and so on. Whole campaigns could be fought without a major battle. Or you could rush right out, find the enemy, smash at him, and trust everything on one roll of the dice. If you lost, you could see your fortresses fall one after another, helpless to do anything to stop the onslaught.
The germ of the idea.
Two of the minor countries from the old Avalon Hill game Blitzkrieg are gearing up for a war. The political differences between Ober-Bindlestiff and Saxe-Schweinrot are many and deep, and mostly rooted in dynastic concerns. It's the 1730s or 1740s. Such fanciful things as cadenced step and so on are not around. I'm going to "write" the rules for the campaign (based on the Frederick the Great system), and then fight it out. The battles will be fought in miniature with the Volley & Bayonet, Road to Glory rules, though there might be a few modifications made to those rules if we hit some sticking points.
The Armies
The Foot in both armies is the multi-battalion regiment. In theory a regiment has 2,000 men, though some 1500 take the field. The rest are held back as training cadre (the depots). In V&B terms, a regiment in the field starts with three hits, or 100 men. As units get worn down from attrition and combat, replacements will be sent forward from the depots to make up the numbers.
The Horse is a mix of armored and unarmored cavalry. Regiments vary wildly in size, so they have been organized into Inspections, each of which fields a brigade of some 2,000 men, or 4 hits in V&B terms. Again, replacements are sent forward as needed. But the real replacements are in the winter. So armies will get smaller as the campaign goes on.
The Artillery does not have a depot system. Guns are expensive to make, but the men can be trained. They are organized in three components: first, the artillery assigned to the infantry. These are 'dedicated guns', or what were also called 'regimental artillery'. Then there are the field artillery, organized in battalions. These are assigned to a field army. Lastly are the fortress guns, and this includes a siege train for each army. These gunners train at the fortresses, and garrison them (with the depot battalions),
The Dragoons are not many, and don't appear too often in the major battles. They are mounted infantry, and are used for the outposting, recons, and so on, what light troops did later on. There most decidedly aren't hussars, chevaulegere, or the like.
These forces are all gathered under an army general, who has subordinates to assist him. And that will assist in the movement system.
So there will be more to come as the campaign rules are put out for people to see.
What is it?
I have often felt the best tabletop games are generated by a campaign system. Years ago Jeff Cox and I did a campaign using the old SPI map for Cobra, and fighting the battles with the King's War Rules. It was a lot of fun, and we soon had a result. We also had a lot of battles that had reasons for being, and were not even fights on even terrain. Back in Indiana I took part in a WW1 Naval Campaign in the Med, and we mostly used General Quarters to resolve the fights, though some other rules were used for small ships and small-sized actions. We had really interesting fights that involved unequal forces, and the battles had strategic consequences.
This latter is often missing from most tabletop games. Oh, you're told that seizing this town or that ridge will give you a strategic victory, but too often there is a fight to the last soldier. With a campaign you have to preserve your forces for another day.
IMHO one of the best campaign systems around for boardgames was Frederick the Great, originally by SPI, but later Avalon Hill. You quickly learned that you could fight lots of battles, and have no army left, or you could preserve your forces, fight only when the situation warranted it, and spend a lot of time worrying about supply, your objective (usually a fortress), and so on. Whole campaigns could be fought without a major battle. Or you could rush right out, find the enemy, smash at him, and trust everything on one roll of the dice. If you lost, you could see your fortresses fall one after another, helpless to do anything to stop the onslaught.
The germ of the idea.
Two of the minor countries from the old Avalon Hill game Blitzkrieg are gearing up for a war. The political differences between Ober-Bindlestiff and Saxe-Schweinrot are many and deep, and mostly rooted in dynastic concerns. It's the 1730s or 1740s. Such fanciful things as cadenced step and so on are not around. I'm going to "write" the rules for the campaign (based on the Frederick the Great system), and then fight it out. The battles will be fought in miniature with the Volley & Bayonet, Road to Glory rules, though there might be a few modifications made to those rules if we hit some sticking points.
The Armies
The Foot in both armies is the multi-battalion regiment. In theory a regiment has 2,000 men, though some 1500 take the field. The rest are held back as training cadre (the depots). In V&B terms, a regiment in the field starts with three hits, or 100 men. As units get worn down from attrition and combat, replacements will be sent forward from the depots to make up the numbers.
The Horse is a mix of armored and unarmored cavalry. Regiments vary wildly in size, so they have been organized into Inspections, each of which fields a brigade of some 2,000 men, or 4 hits in V&B terms. Again, replacements are sent forward as needed. But the real replacements are in the winter. So armies will get smaller as the campaign goes on.
The Artillery does not have a depot system. Guns are expensive to make, but the men can be trained. They are organized in three components: first, the artillery assigned to the infantry. These are 'dedicated guns', or what were also called 'regimental artillery'. Then there are the field artillery, organized in battalions. These are assigned to a field army. Lastly are the fortress guns, and this includes a siege train for each army. These gunners train at the fortresses, and garrison them (with the depot battalions),
The Dragoons are not many, and don't appear too often in the major battles. They are mounted infantry, and are used for the outposting, recons, and so on, what light troops did later on. There most decidedly aren't hussars, chevaulegere, or the like.
These forces are all gathered under an army general, who has subordinates to assist him. And that will assist in the movement system.
So there will be more to come as the campaign rules are put out for people to see.
Wednesday, November 19, 2008
The Battle of Fredonia
The Battle of Fredonia
That Confusing Mess in the Flattest Land in the World
Preliminaries to the battle
Both sides had frittered away troops on various tasks-all of them important, so neither side brought their entire force to bear for this fight. See below for the
The Allied Army moved southwest from Burlington on two roads. The leftmost road was taken by a column of infantry, consisting of the Dutch. The right column, advancing half an hour earlier, contained all the rest of the cavalry, the British infantry, the rest of the guns, and the wagon train. Their job was to make contact with the forces guarding the approaches to Fidalgo Island. The troops marched slowly and quietly. The night was cool, there was little dust-it had sprinkled briefly in the hours before sunset. Battalion commanders had torches carried at the head of each battalion to help the men keep on the road.
The French crossed the river at Mount Vernon, and spread out, their cavalry moving rapidly southwest to cut off the forces at Conway. Their infantry, preceded by a single vedette of cavalry, marched directly west to re-open the route to Fidalgo Island, and to incidentally try to capture La Conner. The French commander had the idea of snapping up these forces, then sweeping around the right of the main Allied army and forcing it to give battle in unfavorable circumstances. It was a quiet night march, broken only by the sound of feet, a bit of dust, and the bobbing of torches at the head of each battalion.
The Battlefield (such as it was)
The land to the west of Mount Vernon is a flood plain. Years of tillage and the existence of small sloughs or watercourses, had eliminated any dominating elevation. The ground was as flat as nature and the human hand could make it. The only breaks were the tree lines and the previously mentioned watercourses. As it was late in the season, most of the latter were fairly dry (including Dry Slough, mentioned in reports by both sides only for the irony of its name). The deepest slough found a soldier could splash across without risking getting more than the top of his boots wet. The most dominating feature of the battlefield, at least for the first two hours, was that it was pitch black. There was no moon, it was partly cloudy and dawn wasn't even lighting the horizon. By the third hour visibility was a theoretical few hundred yards, less actually from powder smoke. By 6 AM the sun was up, there was a slight breeze, and visibility approached normal. In to this darkness both armies were about to descend, to flail at each other with lethal intensity in the flattest place anyone had ever seen. In this map, the Allies approached on Highway 20, and the French on Highway 536. The town of Fredonia is on the left edge of the map. North is up.
Contact!
At 3:30 AM, before the pre-dawn twilight had even begun to backlight the mountains to the east, advanced pickets of both infantry columns ran into each other when they met where the road from Burlington met the road from Mount Vernon. There was some initial confusion-this road was supposed to be clear. Both sides attempted to maintain quiet-orders were to keep the noise down. Troops on both sides were taken prisoner. Orders were garbled, confusion worked its way up the chain of command. Officers pushed forward to find out what was going on.
Both sides had reported their opponents as minor patrols, however unexpected they were. But within a few moments someone raised the alarm, guns flashed. The infantry regiments behind each set of pickets quickly hustled up to lend their weight to the problem. Troops piled up on the road, so officers began to try to find their own way through the mess. Bullets whistled through the air, men were hit, officers shouted for order, melees broke out. Within minutes things were completely out of hand. The only thing anyone knew was that the enemy was in front of them. From the reports they could not number very many. A few more troops could make all the difference. And the troops were at hand.
4:00 A.M. Turn (visibility ½")
French Turn - the leading regiment 1/Blesois, deployed and advanced to contact the leading Allied unit (Dutch Hoegaarden). Both passed morale (the Dutch threw a 1!). Melee - the French scored 1 hit, the Dutch none (the Dutch were still in column of march). The Dutch fell back. 2/Blesois deployed alongside 1/Blesois, with 1/Chef de Fer moving up on their left. 2/Chef de Fer deployed next to the road, but couldn't advance any further.
Allied Turn - the Hoegaarden regiment was out of it for the moment. But Limbeek and Huguenot were at hand. They were quickly deployed and sent ahead in the darkness. Murray (Scots Brigade) came up as well. Contact was made. Everyone passed morale. Limbeek scored a hit on 2/Blesois, and Huguenot scored a hit on 1/Chef de Fer. Limbeek took a hit in return. Melee results showed Limbeek fell back. But 1/Chef de Fer fell back as well.
5:00 A.M. Turn (visibility 3")
French Turn - both Blesois fired at Huguenot to no effect, Huguenot hit 2/Blesois. 2/Chef de Fer deployed and fired at Murray. Murray returned fire, no hits. 1/Navarre marched up and deployed to the right of 2/Chef de Fer. 2/Navarre deployed refused to the right of 1/Navarre. 1/Chef de Fer was rallied.
Allied Turn - General Overbore was up on the scene, providing command/control. He rallied Hoegaarden, then put Colyear and Dalrymple to the left of Murray and sent them at the end of the French line. Dalrymple got around the flank, all three regiments concentrating on 1/Blesois. Blesois stood their ground heroically (no hits) and fired back (to no effect).
6:00 A.M. Turn (visibility 12")
French Turn - Because it looked like 1/Blesois could be charged in the flank, they were pulled back. No sense in letting the Dutch roll up the line. 2/Blesois had to shift to the left as well. The French line temporarily looked like an arc. 1/Croissant was deployed to give a second line (mainly because they couldn't reach the front line, and there was no room on the right due to the river). Scattered firing from 2/Chef de Fer, but no hits on either side.
Allied Turn - the entire line advanced to pound the French. In the exchange of fire the Dutch took 3 hits (1 each on Colyear, Murray and Huguenot), and inflicted 1 (on 2/Navarre). Limbeek was rallied.
7:00 A.M. Turn (normal visibility)
French Turn - General Pain-grillé was now up as well. He thought the Allies couldn't stand an attack, so he ordered the entire line to go advance at the Dutch and roll them back with superior numbers. The French line (from left to right) was: 1/Blesois, 2/Blesois, 2/Chef de Fer, 1/Navarre, 2/Navarre, 1/Croissant. The second line was 1/Chef de Fer, and 2/Croissant. The whole line rolled forward to engage the Allies in melee. Morale checks put a disorder on 2/Chef de Fer, 2/Navarre, Murray and Huguenot. Nobody was stationary. Hits were scored on: 2/Chef de Fer (1), 1/Blesois (1), 1/Navarre (1), 2/Navarre (1), 1/Croissant (2), Murray (1), Colyear (1), Huguenot (1), Hoegaarden (1). Murray, Colyear and Hoegaarden fell back on the Allied side. 1/Croissant fell back, as did 2/Blesois and 2/Navarre.
Allied Turn - Still in melee, Dalrymple put a hit on 1/Blesois, took one itself, and fell back. Huguenot and Hoegaarden each took a hit and fell back. English units appeared more than a mile away, moving towards Fredonia from the west (this certainly changed things).
8:00 A.M. Turn
French Turn - The English were in the left rear of the French. This could be potentially embarrassing. Though the Allies were falling back, there was no cavalry on hand to turn their defeat into a disaster. And now the French felt compelled to fall back. So they did. Additional troops were marching up from Mount Vernon. Now they were turned around and marched back to town. The French straightened out their line and faced the English as well.
Allied Turn - It was at least one hour before the English could intervene, but the Dutch could use the respite. General Overbore began rallying units and straightening out the line. Firing died away.
9:00 A.M. Turn
French Turn - The main column was now marching to the rear. The worst hurt regiments changed to column of march and moved away. That left three regiments (1/Navarre, 2/Croissant, 2/Chef de Fer) as a rearguard. Instead of staying to be squashed, they simply marched south towards Conway.
Allied Turn - The French were out of reach. The Allies considered pursuit. Going towards Mount Vernon looked useless. That column could get over the bridge before anyone caught them, and there was enough force on the far side of the river that nothing could be done (charging across a bridge lined with guns and artillery did not seem wise). Pursuit to the south stopped very quickly when French cavalry was seen. Instead the battlefield was policed up.
Immediate Aftermath
The French force marching back to Mount Vernon arrived there amidst much confusion. The bridge was prepared for demolition. The force that marched south attacked Conway. The Allied force there was prepared for the attack, but when the commander saw troops moving down to bottle him there (and he expected an attack from Mount Vernon), he abandoned his position. He moved into the high ground south of Conway. He was cut off, and desperately began seeking help. The French force crossed the river at Conway and (amazingly enough) marched back to Mount Vernon. Gratefully the Allied units slipped back down from the heights and reoccupied the town. The fury of the French commander when he found this out can be imagined (they may not be speaking to each other yet). The Allied hold on Conway basically made Mount Vernon untenable, and he was going to have to evacuate the town. He began sorting through the mess, finally getting troops started towards the rear.
Losses:
Dutch 15,000 present; 3,000 casualties
French 18,000 present; 2,500 casualties
Dutch (15,000)
Dutch Infantry exhaustion 11
De Koninck ...........M5,PT,EP,BN [ ][ ][ ]
Huguenot .............M5,PT,EP,BN [x][x][x]
Limbeek ..............M5,PT,EP,BN [x][ ][ ]
Hoegaarden ...........M5,PT,EP,BN [x][x][x]
Westmalle ............M5,PT,EP,BN [ ][ ][ ]
Grootdefeatfontein ...M5,PT,EP,BN [ ][ ][ ]
Kriek ................M5,PT,EP,BN [ ][ ][ ]
Foreign Troops exhaustion 5
Dalrymple (Scots) ....M5,PT,EP [x][ ][ ]
Colyear (Scots) ......M5,PT,EP [x][x][ ]
Murray (Scots) .......M5,PT,EP [x][x][ ]
French (18,000)
Right Wing exhaustion 9 General Pain-grillé
1/Intendant General ..M5,PT,EP,EFD [ ][ ][ ]
2/Intendant General ..M5,PT,EP,EFD [ ][ ][ ]
1/Blesois ............M5,PT,EP,EFD [x][x][ ]
2/Blesois ............M5,PT,EP,EFD [x][x][ ]
1/Chef de Fer ........M5,PT,EP,EFD [x][ ][ ]
2/Chef de Fer ........M5,PT,EP,EFD [x][ ][ ]
Left Wing exhaustion 9
1/Croissant ..........M5,PT,EP,EFD [x][x][ ]
2/Croissant ..........M5,PT,EP,EFD [ ][ ][ ]
1/Navarre ............M5,PT,EP,EFD [x][ ][ ]
2/Navarre ............M5,PT,EP,EFD [x][ ][ ]
Provisionaire Genl ...M5,PT,EP,EFD [ ][ ][ ]
Provincial Grenadiers M5,PT,NE,Shock [ ][ ][ ]
Analysis
What a confusing mess! The battle swayed back and forth a bit, with very little order, at least at first. The Dutch were definitely getting the worst of it when the English arrived to change the situation. Fighting with EFD/PT troops is difficult! They aren't near as nimble as later troops (no surprise). There was no cavalry present, which changed things, and, curiously enough, nobody went stationary. I expect that will change in future battles.
Both commanders were unprepared for the way the battle developed. One was a lot more aggressive than the other (the French commander). This could have gotten him in trouble, but he lucked out with the melee dice. Their tactics were bull-headed, there was only one attempt to turn a position. This could cost them in the future.
The battle didn't really decide things. What changed the strategic situation was the failure of the French infantry to stay in Conway. That would have kept the lines of supply open and probably captured the Allied troops there (referee ruling). As it was, the way was now open for an Allied advance through Conway. The French would have to fall back farther inland. Unless some sort of action could be generated in the rough ground, the next stop was Arlington.
The battle took about two hours of player time.
Background to the Coastal War
A handy primer: Ober-Sitzenflesch is basically French, with a Spanish contingent (Spanish Netherlands). Saxe-Schweinrot represents the Maritime Powers, Dutch and English.
The campaign represents the sum total of my Marlburian forces at the time. I used Volley & Bayonet, 1st Edition. This means the foot is on regimental stands, and the horse is on brigade stands. Dragoons, being dismountable in this period, are on regimental stands with a skirmisher stand that can take their place. Foot are worth 3 hits per regiment (1500 men); cavalry brigades are worth 3 hits per brigade.
Most of the foot on both sides varies between M4 and M5 (those are morale grades), with one M6 on each side. Most of the horse are M5, with a few M6. All foot (with one exception) are Partially Trained with Poor Muskets.
The battlefields are laid out as I saw them by driving to them and looking around; I live just north of Seattle about 20 minutes, and my brother lived in Sedro Wooley at the time, and I would look at the battlefields as I drove up to see him. My job takes me back and forth around Arlington and Oso, so I had time to actually walk those battlefields. Some of them, like Freedonia, are river delta and flood plain, and are literally as flat as pool tables.
I did find people at a local game store to tactically command the battles. I refereed.
That done, now let's look at one of the battles. That comprises the next post.
The campaign represents the sum total of my Marlburian forces at the time. I used Volley & Bayonet, 1st Edition. This means the foot is on regimental stands, and the horse is on brigade stands. Dragoons, being dismountable in this period, are on regimental stands with a skirmisher stand that can take their place. Foot are worth 3 hits per regiment (1500 men); cavalry brigades are worth 3 hits per brigade.
Most of the foot on both sides varies between M4 and M5 (those are morale grades), with one M6 on each side. Most of the horse are M5, with a few M6. All foot (with one exception) are Partially Trained with Poor Muskets.
The battlefields are laid out as I saw them by driving to them and looking around; I live just north of Seattle about 20 minutes, and my brother lived in Sedro Wooley at the time, and I would look at the battlefields as I drove up to see him. My job takes me back and forth around Arlington and Oso, so I had time to actually walk those battlefields. Some of them, like Freedonia, are river delta and flood plain, and are literally as flat as pool tables.
I did find people at a local game store to tactically command the battles. I refereed.
That done, now let's look at one of the battles. That comprises the next post.
Sunday, November 16, 2008
The Great Coastal War
What follows is an account of the war between Ober-Sitzenflesch and Saxe-Schweinrot. First will be an overview, followed by more detailed studies. The maps (northern Puget Sound) will give a general idea of the maneuvers of this campaign.
Note - none of the hyperlinks are active yet. Those will be filled in soon.
~~~~~~~~~
The Northern Sound War
Preliminaries
The Stragegic Situation
To anyone familiar with the state of internal affairs in the Allied Coalition, a continuing state of war was no surprise, even after what had happened during the Spring Campaign. Despite what had happend, the Allies were firm in their goals. They were still determined to wrest control of the very fertile Skagit River delta, and just as firmly determined to capture Anacortes and Whidbey Island and thus establish themselves as the controlling power in the lower sound, they recognized that the French might not willingly acquiesce to a debasement of their power. To that end the Allies decided that they would secure their desired fruits of conquest by military means.
War, raw bloody war, that would do it, and so they set about raising an army. Regiments were called in from Vancouver Island, the Fraser Valley, the rolling hills north of Bellingham (the fortress city that guarded the southern border), and other points farther in the interior. Cavalry was mustered, infantry ordered and drilled, and artillery accumulated. In fine, everything was put together to assure the Allied possession of the the Lower Sound.
The French were well aware of the Allied build-up. They tried peaceful negotiation, they tried subtle diplomatic pressure, they tried everything they thought reasonable and prudent. Nothing worked. In the end they decided that the only thing left was to call up the Army. Regiments were called up or hired, and the whole array was drilled and marched to the theater of war. There they massed south of Conway, preparing for the expected Allied attack. At the same time they started construction of defensive works at Mount Vernon.
The Allies High Command demanded the French demolish the defenses they started building at Mount Vernon. When that didn't work, the Allied ambassadors immediately issued a joint declaration of war, citing "threatening defensive preparations" as the causus belli. They announced that they had no choice but settle the issues between them and the French by the use of the military. (The Allied logic was as follows: the French were building fortifications. The only reason they would do this would be to free up regular troops. And the only reason they would be
freeing up regular troops would be if they were going to use them for an attack on the Allies. Thus, by this logic, the Allies had no choice but to go to war to forestall an attack).
Referee's Note - I recruited two players (initially, they each recruited one more) to command the armies. I did not tell them very much of the campaign rules. Both played Warhammer® Ancients quite regularly. Both thought it would be interesting to try a "different" period. But the way it worked was simple. They issued their orders, I carried them out. I would also give them reports, but only upon request. A lot of their orders came by E-Mail.
Both armies undertook extensive training regimes. The cavalry, which had always maintained their level of proficiency, was ready in a few weeks. For the infantry, though, it was a daily diet of drill, firing practice, more drill, and more firing practice. The fancy evolutions of the prewar army were forgotten as leaders emphasized the drill and tactics they had found applicable on the modern battlefield. In three months both armies were in some form of shape and ready for the Autumn Campaign.
As the armies gained in numbers, the generals on each side studied their maps of the area, the Allies with a view to attacking the French, the French to defend themselves. The map to the right shows the general theater of campaign, and will serve as a handy reference during these opening moves. But, in essence, the French held Mount Vernon, with videttes north of Burlington and Sedro Woolley. They also held most of the major ports in the area. The Allied army, mustering near Bellingham, felt obligated to drive the French out of the Skagit river delta and secure that area for itself for the winter. That, in a nut shell, was the strategic genesis behind The Plan.
If the French could be driven farther south (which is off the lower edge of the map), so much the better. To this end, while their armies readied themselves for the campaign by marching all over ground north of Bellingham, the Allied politicians and generals engaged in an extended series of planning sessions to iron out the details of the campaign.
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Good Plans
Good Plans are Simple Plans. It does not follow that Simple Plans are Good Plans. Nor does it follow that Bad Plans are Complex Plans, but it certainly seems that way. It is unfortunate that when plans are proposed to higher authorities, complex plans will often win out over simple plans. The reasons for this are many and varied. Undoubtedly the foremost reason is that the higher authorities know that military matters can be very complex, and so they think, logically, that military plans must be complex. A more cynical appreciation is that complex plans are more dazzling, and like all bright and shiny gewgaws, appeals to the kind of minds that go into politics.
No general reminds them of the other adage: no plan survives contact with the enemy. Political leaders don't want to hear that. They believe, right or wrong, that you can plan out a successful military campaign to the last button and flint. When they look at plans, they want to see plans like they see in civilian life--one politician likened it to planning a building, with everything laid out, one thing inevitably following another. They want to see completeness, they want to see an end result. They have nothing but contempt for the general who tells them: "We will hit the enemy and see what happens." That is not the way it is in Politics, and, politicians have been assured, war is just politics carried on with the a little more violence than normal.
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The Plan
The Plan that the politicians blessed was complex. It grew out of two things: a desire to avoid shoving troops south into what appeared to be a grinder, and the paucity of roads in the initial campaign area. It also capitalized upon the local command of the sea, though that was a condition everyone recognized was open to some dispute, and not really valid south of Fidalgo Island.
The Objective of The Plan was the conquest and occupation of all the desirable ground in the Skagit River Delta before the autumn rains shut things down. This would mean fighting at least one battle with the French, but the Plan envisioned doing this only after dividing the French into smaller groups. That way superior force could be brought to bear in each battle, and the French comfortably crushed.
To accomplish the Objective, four forces were set in motion. We will examine them one at a time, in the order in which they were expected to contact the enemy.
- First, the Fleet would transport three infantry regiments and two regiments of cavalry to capture Stanwood. This would be a naval descent, and it was hoped to seize the town by coup de main. The regiments would garrison the town, while the cavalry would launch a raid on the main supply line of the French army only a few miles away.
- Second, a day later, the Fleet would land a force of two infantry regiments as close to the bridge to Fidalgo Island as they could. Their job would be to capture the bridges granting entrance to one of the many local islands and set up defenses to repulse any enemy attack. These islands would serve as an advanced base for the army, a thorn in the side of the French, and, possibly, an advanced base for the Navy. The commander of this force was not told that his troops were really a feint.
- Third, on the same day as the forces landed on Fidalgo Island, two regiments of cavalry and four regiments of infantry would descend on Sedro Wooley from the north. They were to capture the town (note, due to poorly worded orders, the all-important bridge was not mentioned).
- Fourth, two days after steps two and three, the main force, the rest of the infantry and cavalry, and all the artillery, would move directly south on the high road, headed right towards the main French army. If the diversions had worked fully, the French would be scattered trying to re-open the road to Fidalgo Island and Anacortes, facing the Allies at Sedro Wooley, and trying to re-capture Stanwood. Even if the diversions worked only partially, the French would not have their full force present, and could be defeated by superior numbers. And if the diversions had not worked at all, then the French would have their flank turned by the troops from Sedro Wooley and would be defeated and driven south in wreck and ruin.
In essence, then, the Plan was for a series of blows that were designed to catch the enemy off-balance. The Plan was bold, it was detailed, and it was clever. The Plan was examined by the High Command. It was pronounced to be Good. Great praises were heaped upon the officers who had devised such a clever plan. The defeat of the enemy was held to be certain, though privately every senior officer conceded that if it just chased the French south out of the Mount Vernon area that it would have achieved a level of success as well.
It is, perhaps, a pity that the French did not get a copy of the Plan so they would know the role they were supposed to play in the campaign.
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The French Plan
At this time it seems only fair to consider the French Plan (yes, they had one). The French had many meetings to discuss their plan. The staff was directed to consider "all" alternatives, not a wise thing to order when dealing with certain literal minded staff officers.
In the three months since the previous campaign ended, the staff surveyed every possible approach that the Allies could use. Each route, down to foot paths frequented by hunters, was examined for food, water, road grade, and security. Each route had a number of defensive positions surveyed. Each route was given its own document listing the way the campaign should be fought, assuming the Allies used that particular route. This was all carefully compiled, and presented to the Defense Minister during his inspection tour in the weeks following the closing of the Spring Campaign.
The Defense Minister, well-trained by his civil servants, duly took the presented documents under advisement. The staff relaxed, suffused by the glow of hard work successfully accomplished…until it was asked what if the enemy came by multiple approaches? The staff resumed their study, trying out every possible scenario involving multiple approaches over every possible route. The paper budget for the staff tripled, then tripled again, then tripled one more time.
What the hey, it kept the staff busy and out of mischief.
The General, of course, had his own plan. But it was not one to gladden the Defense Minister. The General personally surveyed the principle routes near his army, and selected a concentration point that surrendered the ground north of Mount Vernon to the Allies. He stationed aggressive cavalry officers at each major road (he rejected the minor roads as impractical for supply wagons). Their orders were simple: when the Allies moved, these French cavalry units were to go as hard as they could at the Allies in an attempt to gain information. Once they had identified the infantry units involved, they were to fall back on the main body, keeping in contact with the army.
While this was going on, the General would concentrate his troops. He designated one force as his rearguard, and spent a week rigorously enforcing the baggage regulations, sending the jugglers, cooks, clowns (this included some subordinates) and other "impedimenta" to his central concentration well south of Conway. When he had identified where the Allied main body was, he would organize a counterattack to drive them back. Hopefully, though, the Allies would be induced to attack him in his prepared positions in the rough high ground south of Conway.
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Execution of The Plan
There have been many compliments paid to the Allied Army. Precision and celerity of maneuver was not one of those compliments. Bad winds, drizzle, heavy clouds, "driving" officers, lethargic officers ("daybreak in the morning" was interpreted in a different way by each commander), slow wagon trains, bad map reading, poor intelligence, worry about flank security, mud--everything conspired to throw off the Allies careful timetable. It is instructive to look at each Allied force, and consider when they came into action. See the General Map for details of what followed.
The Advance on Sedro Wooley
The first force in action was the column aimed at Sedro Wooley. They came into view early in the afternoon of the 9th. They spent the balance of the afternoon deploying and preparing for a formal assault on the town. Little effort was expended to discover just what was in the town. The commander had been present at the Battle of Burlington the previous spring, and so he assumed that this important post would be heavily garrisoned.
The French commander of the force at Sedro Wooley mustered his single squadron of dragoons and the single section of 3# artillery in the town park. He had little else to do, couriers were already racing south with the news of this attack. As the Allies were deploying, he reviewed this force with all of the solemnity of a Marshal reviewing a large army. Then, when he was convinced that every last button-hook was accounted for, and that all of the officer's had settled their bills with the local establishments (there was later a scandal when it was found that 13 florins 3 were still owed a tailor in the town by one of his officers), he ordered his main body to the south bank of the river. The bridge had long since been prepared for demolition. All the fuses were double-checked. He only awaited the Allied advance.
Eventually, at 6 PM, the Allies advanced. The French dragoon commander fired his carbines, fired the 3# cannon his men had found in the basement of the local ale house, and withdrew across the bridge. The men carefully removed the flooring for the center span behind them. His men, already spread out in individual sections along the river, kept watch through the evening for any attempt to cross the river. There was none. The Allied commander's orders were merely to seize the town of Sedro Wooley. Nothing had been said about the bridge just south of the town.
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Fidalgo Island
The second force was the two regiments landed to cut the road to Anacortes and Whidbey Island. They had been delayed by the force headed towards Stanwood. In one of those farcical events that would not have been believed in a fictional account of the campaign, ships to transport his troops had been requisitioned by the Stanwood force. An unseemly tussle ensued over the transport ships, senior officers wrestling with each other on the docks. Eventually the senior colonel of the Fidalgo Island force, acting on his own initiative, simply occupied the nearest boats he could find, and, with the other regiment following close behind, simply put to see. He decided that success would justify his theft, and that he didn't want to be in close proximity to any senior officer when they found out what he had done.
In the middle of the night of the 9th/10th, a day late, his troops splashed ashore, finding no opposition. They quickly set to work building a pair of redoubts. Dawn found the redoubts complete. The men lay inside, tensing for an attack they expected at any hour. They would have been disappointed to discover that the French didn't learn of this attack for another day, and then only because the regular mail courier didn't show up.
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The Attempted Escalade of Stanwood
The third force had been dispatched for a descent on Stanwood. It had the trickiest approach, and suffered in a way that clearly highlighted every fault with The Plan.
First, the approach was by sea. This made it dependent upon the winds and tides. The winds were light and variable, and the tide was generally against the ships. Ships, the staff had forgotten, could not move with the alacrity and regularity of troops marching on a road.
To reach Stanwood, the approach had to pass one of two choke points. One proposed route took the force through Deception Pass. With any sort of seaway this was hazardous in the extreme. The other route took the force down the west side of Whidbey Island, then north between Whidbey and Camano Islands, before finally reaching Stanwood. French observers could watch the force for nearly the entire length of their voyage. Worse, there were enough French naval forces on hand in those waters to intercept and utterly ruin the approach voyage by this route.
These difficulties were not unknown to the creators of The Plan. The general commanding the force ordered the naval commander to chance the passage through Deception Pass. This limited him to an approach only when the tide was favorable. Worse, he could not get more than a third of his force through the Pass on any tide. He chose to push one of his three regiments through on each tide. What The Plan envisaged as taking two hours, took 18. Nevertheless, he led the first contingent through the Pass and pressed on to Stanwood.
The Plan had envisaged a naval borne coup de main on Stanwood. When the Allied force arrived outside Stanwood on the 12th, they discovered that there was no harbor for them to penetrate in the dead of the night. There were docks, of sorts, the kind used in river traffic. But the weir upstream of Stanwood had been partially closed, reducing the flow of water near the docks. The only approach was through a channel-the defenders had thoughtfully removed the buoys that marked the channel to prevent just such a descent. The attacking force found itself 200 yards short of their goal, with no way to reach it.
The naval commander wasn't without some enterprise, though. Balked at Stanwood, he decided to put his troops ashore where they could do the most good. He sailed north a few miles, and landed a cavalry regiment across a beach on Whidbey Island. While this was in progress he sailed back to Deception Pass. This did two things-it got rid of the meddlesome column commander (he was with the cavalry), and it gave the Allies a presence on Whidbey Island, which might be important in the future. He also considered landing the embarked infantry regiment on Whidbey Island as well. But that regimental commander saw no reason why his regiment should be isolated on Whidbey Island and subjected to who knew what perils. After some argument, the Hesse-Fizzenpop Regiment was put ashore at La Conner.
Strong Allied naval forces in Skagit Bay did not go unnoticed by the French. Several French squadrons sailed north to see what was going on. This led to a running scrap that lasted most of the day. The Allied commander was more interested in withdrawing through Deception Pass than he was in securing a naval victory that would otherwise be barren. In late afternoon, as the wind picked up, he withdrew. The French, who had been getting the worst of the encounter, were glad to see him leave.
The other infantry regiments of this force (the two Prussian regiments), along with the remaining cavalry regiment, landed on the west side of Fidalgo Island later that day. The infantry pressed inland enough to secure the beachhead while the cavalry got itself into shape. The next morning the cavalry pressed up against the walls of Anacortes, driving the garrison back inside the defenses. One infantry battalion was left to support the cavalry while the other five battalions marched to the bridgehead held by the first force landed two days before. After some discussion, this force left two battalions behind and marched to link up with the regiment in La Conner. This gave them a total of 9 battalions of infantry. They were in a bit of a precarious position, isolated as they were. But the commander of the force had an idea. He sent one courier back to find the cavalry brigade commander, while another courier picked his way through the back roads to carry word of their success to the main force commander. While these men were carrying their vital messages, his infantry marched 6 of the 8 miles to Conway, and then rested without fires. Then, in the middle of the night, he hurled 5 battalions straight at Conway and its newly rebuilt bridge.
Surprise was complete, nobody had told the two companies garrisoning the town to expect trouble. The bridge was taken intact, troops were pushed astride the main north-south road, and two of the redoubts the French had built on the high ground overlooking Conway were occupied by Allied infantry. The commander braced himself for an onslaught by the obviously aroused French.
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The Main Body
The fourth force was the main body. The Allied commander had tried to regulate his progress by that of the flanking force going to Sedro Wooley. Owing to the narrow mountain roads of the approach march, this was almost impossible. And an enterprising commander in the advance guard pushed ahead, seizing the crossroads and intact bridges at Burlington on the evening of the 10th. The main body came down out of the hills on the next day to discover the French falling back behind a rearguard, and no battle. Undaunted, the main body pressed aggressively forward the five miles to the French position at Mount Vernon. There they paused. The river was unfordable, and the main bridge was so sturdily built it could not be demolished. A quick survey showed fully four redoubts parked at the end of the main bridge, along with another 30 guns set to sweep the northern approaches to the bridge. Attacking here would be a noisy way of committing suicide. So, on the afternoon of the 11th, the two main armies confronted each other at Mount Vernon with no way to get at each other.
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The French Reaction
The French were more puzzled than anything else. The commander of the French received reports of the French at Conway. He reasoned that this was a raid. He had heard rumors of the attempted landing at Stanwood, and decided this had to be a feint. He sent two regiments of cavalry to Conway to investigate matters and chase the raiders off. He was more interested in reports of the force at Sedro Wooley. That force, apparently, was attempting to slip across the river farther east. He ordered his dragoons in the area to push patrols up the river to keep an eye on things.
The day after the capture of Conway he finally rode the few miles south to see the situation for himself. After just one glance he decided that he had an opportunity squarely in front of him if he would only reach out to take it. This Allied force was isolated, and if he could cross the river and drive west, he could cut them off and capture the lot. There was a ford somewhere near Conway that the Allies had used before, but he suspected it was covered by the Allied troops in the town. He knew there was a perfectly good bridge at Mount Vernon that would do just fine. He detailed his German regiments to watch the Allies, gathered up the rest of his force less a regiment of cavalry watching Conway and the Dragoons watching Sedro Wooley, and at 2 AM, crossed the river at Mount Vernon headed west.
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New Plans
The Allied commander had spent two days at Mount Vernon staring across the river at the French. The courier from the south had been very welcome, and the plan dropped into place neatly. He would link up with the force from La Conner, and after a day of organizing things and resting, would advance through the bridgehead at Conway at dawn. That would give him all day to align his troops on the heights over Conway and prepare for a battle he knew his opponent wouldn't want to fight, but would be forced to.
That decided, he had to gather all the troops he could. He needed to thin out his troops in Sedro Wooley, and ordered the patrols sent up river to be called back. That evening all of the troops at Sedro Wooley save three infantry battalions and a troop of cavalry were ordered to make a short march to join the main army at Burlington. He left the four regiments of the Danes to watch Mount Vernon, along with one of his three battalions of artillery. With everything else he turned west, and then south, marching in the pre-dawn darkness towards Fidalgo Island and a link up with the troops there. The stage was now set for the first battle of the campaign, the The Battle of Fredonia.
Fredonia and Clear Lake
Fredonia was a chaotic affair, and Clear Lake was a frustrating one. Worse was to come. At the same time as the affair at Clear Lake, the Allied Commander decided on a bold stroke. He would strike directly at Mount Vernon with his troops. The only ones immediately available were the Danes: two regiments of grenadiers, two regiments of line troops, and a regiment of cavalry. He also had two battalions of medium artillery that could help.
Unfortunately, the bold stroke that was conceived for the Battle of Mount Vernon was a failure. Things did not go according to plan. But the French pulled out of the city, the Allies occupied it, and the Allies claimed the victory by virtue of occupying the battlefield. The French deployed their army above Conway, the Allies considered an assault. This time there would be no mistakes.
The stage was now set for a big, set-piece battle.
For a brief referee interlude, click here.
The Maneuver on McMurray
A Change of Heart
The Allied Commander took stock of his forces. The Plan was in utter ruins, but that did not bother him. The French Army was now in front of him, and he meant to hit them a blow from which they would not recover. The British were fresh, the Dutch were a bit shot up, and the Danes currently had low morale (well, M4). And the Germans were busy holding the far side of the bridge at Conway, as well as La Conner. One regiment (Hesse-Fizzenpop) was blockading the approaches to Anacortes.
He studied his proposed battlefield (i.e. he drove over it while returning from Bellingham). To attack he would have to cross a small stream with steep banks fordable nearly everywhere but probably a serious obstacle. Then he would have to advance uphill against the French, who had thoughtfully dotted the hillside with redoubts. And he would have to leave a substantial force watching his left flank because he knew there were forces (reported by the commander from Sedro Wooley) back down that way (estimated at 18 battalions, but surely it couldn't be that big). He read the Reference sheet for the modifiers, and began to think that, just perhaps, the French would hold a lot of the advantages in this battle. Just perhaps it was he who would be smashed, rather than the Allies.
He began thinking about that. All that infantry was in front of him. Now, if they were here, there couldn't be that many troops guarding their flank. If he left, say, the Danes and some of the cavalry near Mount Vernon, and happened to descend on that flanking force in the early morning with everything else (except the Germans), then he could turn their flank. That would force them back, and he could pursue, looking to snap off a piece of them. That sounded a lot better than a massive frontal assault.
He issued the orders at once. The Danes were ordered to keep the fires burning below the heights so as to help the deception (part of the actual orders he issued through the referee). Almost everyone else would make the march to MacMurray and turn the French flank.
The French commander was well pleased with what he was seeing. His front was guarded like it was a moat, and he held most of the advantages. His troops would be stationary, while the Allies would not. He could have cross-fire between his little redoubts. He had cavalry who could counterattack when the Allied infantry wavered. This was looking better and better. The only thing bothering him was the amount of troops massing in front of him. Every time he looked there were more (the referee was telling him what he could see as troops deployed for battle on the flats). He thought of the 18 battalions on his right. He could leave two regiments there, along with the dragoons, and mass the rest on the road below the heights. When the Allies were fully committed to the attack he would hit them with that force, crush their flank, drive them against the Skagit river, and destroy them. Oh, a few would get out through Conway, but he would have the rest.
That sounded good, so he issued the orders. He left the 1/2nd and 2/2nd Germans there, and ordered everyone else to march to where he wanted them. They were to move that night so nobody would see them move.
The Next Move(s)
So here we had the specter of the two forces sliding past each other separated by the hills to the southeast of Mount Vernon. The Germans duly marched. As did the Allies. Dawn brought the Allies face to face with the two German regiments (he had said everyone else, so they brought the Dragoons with them).
The referee ruled that the Germans would not do a fight to the death, but instead pulled back up on the heights and watched the Allied force go by. They sent couriers off to explain what they saw. And then the Dutch were sent up in to the hills after the Germans, who quite sensibly marched away on a side road. The Dutch set up permanent possession of the small town of McMurray.
The French commander was aghast. There went his nice battle. He sent the Aquaviva Dragoons down the road to check things out, while everyone else got on the main road and marched south. We were finally in a "walking war". The dragoons found the Dutch firmly ensconced in McMurray, reported that, and pulled out as a rearguard.
The French commander looked at his map. His next stop had to be the land to the west of Arlington, between Stanwood and Bryant. He could get there and force the Allies to turn to face him somewhere in that area. If he could hit them hard enough, they would have to go back north. If not, well, there had to be some good fighting ground somewhere around Arlington. The only question in his mind was who would get there first?
The Decision for Battle
The Allied commander arrived in Bryant near sunset. His men were weary. They had marched from around Mount Vernon to Bryant, 25 miles, almost without stopping. The army was in no shape for a fight. But he forced some of the regiments onward, grabbing a crossing over the South Fork of the Stillaguamish River at Arlington. That kept his options open, in case he wanted to move farther south. But for now, it was time to rest his army. His men made camp between Bryant and Arlington.
The French commander sent cavalry patrols into Arlington. They clashed briefly with the Allied Advanced Guard. Other cavalry patrols, riding the Stanwood-Bryant road clashed with Allied cavalry. The French commander considered the reports, and decided to give battle. He would attack Arlington, and bottle the Allies up north of the Stillaguamish River.
His army wasn't as tired as that of the Allies, and they had just been reinforced by three more infantry regiments (Royal Boullibaise, Procurer General, and the Spanish Regiment of Don Juan). His men had had a 13 mile march from the heights above Conway to where the main road intersected the Stanwood-Bryant road. He ordered an early camp. The preliminaries were over, now things would be settled by battle.
The Retreat from Arlington
The day after the Battle of Arlington the Allied Army managed to get across the Stillaguamish at Cicero, but only because Grootdefeatfontein, Kriek and Westmalle fought a successful action against the pursuing troops of 1/2nd Navarre and the Provincial Grenadiers. There were about 500 casualties (2 hits) on the French, and 250 on the Allies (1 hit on Kriek) before the French withdrew (more Allied troops were on the way).
Once the Allied troops got over the Stillaguamish, they had a variety of bad choices. The Allied commander elected to follow Route 530 through Darrington and Concrete. It was a melancholy retreat, with the bonds of discipline slipping, men and horses going hungry, and deserters slipping away every day.
The French Army sent a force of the 1/1st and 2/1st Germans and the Spanish Atrasos Cavalry up Route 530 to keep up the pressure. Their orders were to avoid action and to fall back a the slightest sign of resistance, but keep up the pressure and drive the Allies. The French Commander sent still other troops to get to Sedro Wooley and other points in an attempt to get ahead of the main Allied army.
The Danish commander north of Arlington now found himself the senior Allied officer in contact with anyone. The French Army was preparing to cross the river and outflank him, and he had positive orders to fall back, resisting the French at every step. Meanwhile the main Allied army would fall back through the mountain valleys to the east. He sent couriers back through MacMurray and on to Mount Vernon, Sedro Wooley and Fidalgo Island, informing them of the situation.
There was nothing to stop the French from seizing Mount Vernon. The Danish commander ordered his troops to march north through MacMurray, with the cavalry leading. The infantry would follow hard on their heels, and any straggler who couldn't keep up would be captured.
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