Frankszonia

ressurection

2011-09-24T12:17:00.000-07:00

Instead of insurrection -- the common state of Frankszonia -- :)

I broke a leg in January. There were complications. I was forced into a nursing home for a couple of months until I managed to engineer an escape.
Then I came down with some sort of flesh eating strep infection.
The infection is under control, but it may be another two months before the wounds fully heal.
Interim, the leg is not getting proper therapy so it is not healing at a satisfactory rate.

While I'm still bedbound, I've discovered that all my gaming supplies have been relocated ... and are inaccessible to me right now (grr).
I'm floundering around with this old laptop to re-establish contact.

How's the Empire???

Arthur

Durn it!

2011-01-08T12:26:00.000-08:00

Computer is dying, so switched to laptop ... and lap top is not showing all my features!
:(

http://constantine-ii.webs.com/, is a new imagination "Herzogtum v.Rechsburg" which I'd hoped to add to the list ....

A

Public Sediment

2010-12-02T20:17:00.000-08:00

Tidbits circulation in the Frankfurter market and barracks:

Oh, Stagonians brag, When they're deep in their wine
That Stagonian life is so very, very fine
That Gallians can keep
Their nasty goats and sheep;
A Stagonian will happily wallow with swine!

Given what he's taken for a wife, does Ludwig like his food also second hand?

Gallians are disgusting enough,
Beware a Stagonian with snuff ...

(the Ducal court denies that it has any part in disseminating such putrid humor).

and why??

2010-11-26T10:43:00.001-08:00

While it may be Christmas before I can resolve things in the current story line, the intent is to try BAR again (will have to reread the rules again, too! LOL) with very tiny forces on the table.
A few squadrons of cavalry each, a couple of battalions of infantry each, and only the light artillery.

and of course a man to figure scale game for the "kidnapping" attempt ...

:)
Arthur

Autumn (3 cont)

2010-11-24T19:34:00.000-08:00

Autumn (con.t 4) \

Intendent Bastille had strolled into town to take his morning coffee and there met L’Comte d’Beauphaup. As they walked back out the gates to the Gallian stonghold, d’Beauphaup wondered how the Soweiter League was going to take the violation of Offenbach’s neutrality.
Bastille winced internally and casually asked what violation could the good count mean?
“We’ve intelligence that the 5th Porque Line and the Libbenstal Dragoons intend to use their crossing of the Main to move around the congestion around your depot,” the count answered.
“We’ve no such units in the Gallian Army,” Bastille protested.
“Really?” the count asked. “V. Mack reports than his team has intercepted their advance men in the Offenbach outskirts near our batteries.”
“But, we have no such units!” Bastille protested.
“Interesting,” the count responded nonchalantly. “We thought that they were another batch German recruits as only their officers spoke any French, at it was pretty vile .... Oh! Excuse me, m’Lord, I must intercept those flower carts I promised Madame V. Kern an excellent selection for today.”
Bastille strode purposefully back to his office. As he passed the guards at the door, he caught the eye of an ensign. “Get contact with Maistre Pierre,” he commanded brusquely and climbed up to the chart room, where he began spreading out local charts. Lt. Legume stepped helpfully forward and was handed an hastily scribbled note for Gen. Chevert.

Meanwhile, in the fields northwest of Frankfurter, the parish of St. Gertrude was being swiftly transformed into St. Gertrude of Jesus. Nice new statues were added to the graveyard and the nave. Close inspection might reveal that they’d been painted so swiftly that bugs were stuck on them. The congregation was in an unusual state of excitement. Even though few of them were really Catholics, the presence of the polite and healthy young advanced seminarians undergoing some field work experience under Fr. Umlaut was causing some comment. Even the local Anglerican circuit rider was jealous.
To placate him, Fr. Umlaut promised to take some Protestant men in to study Rubrics too. This may have been a mistake as the local frauleins soon realized the later young seminarians were eligible. The Vespers services and benediction began to attract a small crowd.
Fr. Umlaut let it slip that he was looking for a good Mission team (Revival for Protestants) to better minister to the temporary crowd.
An Italian merchant who happened to overhear him at the inn mentioned that he might soon be meeting with an abbot who would probably gladly provide somebody. Fr. Umlaut was grateful, as the merchants usually pushed on through to Frankfurter. The merchant assured the rustic cleric that it was no problem. The merchant had simply been too tired and a little unwell and didn’t want to have to deal with the Frankfurter gate hassles in the late evening.
“Such an experience is bound to leave a Mark on someone,” the priest agreed.
“Well there’s marks and there’s Marks,” the Italian philosophized. “Some are easier to deal with than others. Most of them you can cover up.”
“Just so long as one doesn’t make a Habit out of it, “ Fr. Umlaut agreed. “Ah well, I hope you have good luck, friend. Alas, I must return to read my office before the light fails.”
The Italian toasted him with his stein and watched the priest amble back to the Rectory. Then he rose and went around to the stables where his servant was caring for the horses. “V. Mark is here,” he told the lad.
“For sure?”
“Yes, the priest tried to warn me. I suspect he’s being watched rather closely.”
“If V. Mark is here, then surely the Apostate is not far away,” the youngster enthused.
“That is quite possible,” the merchant responded. “Anyway,” he continued louder, “you need to take the mare out for some exercise tonight. Steer clear of all these military patrols, won’t you, I need the horse back in the morning, and it would be helpful you came back too.”
“I’ll do my best,” the lad grinned as the merchant returned to the beer garden.

A few moments later, he rode an aging mare out of the paddock and down the road. Soon After the road had turned around the hill, he came on an hussar who was inspecting his saddle straps. “Guten Abend!” he called cheerfully.
“Depends on how and to whom you’re bending,” the hussar joked as he straightened up.
“I’ll drink to that!” the lad responded, to which the hussar quickly produced a flask, took a swig and offered to share with “Proust!”
The lad thanked him and took a drink. As he handed it back, he apologized, “I didn’t mean to drink the whole thing.”
“The whole thing?”
“That’s my guess, I’ve got to find the good merchant’s train to give them their Marks.”
“On your Mark, then,” the Hussar responded. “I’ve to to get back to my billet too.”

As the lad rode on into the dusk, SomeRussian Guyovitch mounted and turned back towards the hunting lodge. Events were developing again.

Autumn (2nd cont)

2010-11-10T10:54:00.000-08:00

Autumn (2nd cont)

The room was small by comparison with others in the palace. Unfortunately, this made the lurid ostentation of the gilded, rococo furniture, the ornate frames of the erotic paintings, and the excessive folds of burgundy drapes even more overly lush. King Ludwig set his goblet (the stem being a statue of an orgastic dancer from some vile Greek rite) down on the small round of bluestone within the ropes of gilded ornamentation of the table and asked, “Andrew Kern? The order is sure?”
A portly courtier whose face hid behind bushy cheek beards and mustache grinned. “The last witness to our little escapades in the hunting lodge, Sire.”
“He’s an, ah, irritation,” the king continued, “and must be scratched. But why should we be concerned with Prince Allbrick? He’s illegitimate, disowned, and apostate. We can’t even use him ourselves.”
A tall courtier in riding clothes responded. “He was the eldest, Sire; and there’s a rumor that Stanken plans to acknowledge him and give him an auto-de-fe reconversion. That’d put another cavalry genius and skilled plotter in place as Prince Regent should the Hurtshog not recover from his unfortunate wound.”
“That’s another irritation!” the King snapped. “How could Herr Badspielman miss? We’d gotten him placed right beside that bloated bum as an aide!”
“It seems that the swollen sausage is very agile and slippery when riding into a charge, Sire. We’re lucky that the Frankszonians didn’t realize that it wasn’t just a battle wound.”
“Too bad about Badspielman, though,” the portly courtier shook his head. “Why did he let himself get carried so close to an infantry formation?”
“He didn’t,” the rider responded. “That’s just where his body was recovered afterwards.”
A moment of silence followed as the two courtiers thought that a bullet could have been fired by more than just the public combatants. The king returned to his complaint, “Why must we risk an agent against this greasy Frankfurter? We’ve already lost an entire team in our last attempt on the Kerns.”
“His return of the things he took with him into exile is perhaps more important than his person,” the portly councilor commented. “A seal, a ring or two, and a very small scepter.”

(A computer crash erased the interesting byplay as Pederastein, the Portly Courtier, and King Ludwig continued their plotting. Alas, too ill to recreate it, but here’s a synopsis)

They will infiltrate Stagonian troops into the area around the hideout. After all, the Stagonians are already uniformed like Gallians and their attack would trigger a general Frankszonian uprising and destroy the Fhartzen standing with the Gallians, and thus remove them from rule. Such deceitful tactics were deemed vile enough.
This attack, however, is a cover for another plot. Originally, they’d planned to kidnap and kill the Urpprinz and frame Allbrick and Andrew Kern for the deed. This was altered, though, when they realized that it might be too vile ... and arouse an horrible coalition against them if exposed ... which would create the kind of political community of minor princes which Frankszonia had been advocating as a response to the pressure of the greater powers. Therefore, they decided to make the attack on the Urpprinz a cover for an attempt to steal the Urpprinz’s treasure box. There was information that the items brought back by Allbrick were kept there under the guard of two large black Turkish warriors.
Thus they will vilely deceive the Fhartzen and Kerns into destroying themselves!

Autumn, (1st cont.)

2010-11-03T14:10:00.000-07:00

Autumn (cont. 1)

A somewhat worn but quite well made coach pulled up to a coach house in rural Stagonia. Three, well attired merchants stepped down and entered the common room. With thick Italian accents they place their orders and ask for the ostler to assist their driver. The innkeeper disdainfully noted their accent and their freshly minted Florins. He grumpily told his waitress to take care of the foreigners and stumped out to the stable.
“Zuckerman!” he called. There was a clatter from the rear of the stables and a somewhat bedraggled man emerged with his fork still in his hand. “There is an Italian coach out front. Their coachman wants to you examine a horse for some reason.”
“Ja, ja,” the ostler replied and walked out into the courtyard. The innkeeper noticed that the ostler tucked something under his tunic just before he stepped into the light.

“Gutten Morgen,” Zuckerman greeted the coachman who was bent down examining some of the straps on a lead horse. “Und vat ist der problem, mein Herr?”
The coachman straightened up and turned to the ostler. As he did so, he made a small gesture above his right eyebrow. Zuckerman looked around the empty courtyard quickly and turned back to the driver who said, “these horses are a trouble. I’d swear one of them was obtained from those Croats and the other is a Protestant.”
“Perhaps,” the ostler replied, “they’d pull better if we changed them from side to side.”
“Pasha was already switched over here,” the driver replied, “but with Andrew Kern beside him, he tends to fight the lead a lot more.”
“Have you tried giving Andrew a stein of beer before starting?” the ostler responded, concealing an involuntary jerk as he heard the names.
“It’d take a whole keg to get us all the way to Frankfurter,” the driver responded.
“Can your party stay tonight, Father?” Zuckerman asked. The Driver quickly hushed him and looked around furtively to make sure the courtyard was still empty. Zuckerman looked up at some crows squabbling in the branches overhead. “I know a good horse dealer,” he continued, “who might be able to help you. Herr Pederastien.”
“Doesn’t he supply mounts for the Stagonian Lieb Garde?” the coachman asked.
“Sometimes,” the ostler responded, “and some good grooms too.”
“Well, as God Wills It,” the coachman sighed.
“Ja, as “god” wills it,” the ostler smirked as he turned back to the stables.

Order of Good King Joseph

2010-10-25T23:52:00.000-07:00

The Hurtshog has been humbled by being included into a new order of heroes.
The honor which has been extended to us by Katzenstein will be fondly remembered.
We are barbecuing some beef now to celebrate.

The Hurtshog Stanken Fhartz von Frankfurter ....

Enter the Holy Man

2010-10-25T00:38:00.001-07:00

Autumn

(I apologize for the bad German in my posts. Forty odd years ago, I could read and mumble a bit of Deutsche along with some others ... all that burned away in a high fever about 1968 or 69. So I’m using dim memories of phrases common around the house .... in hopes of someday reviving access to those memories).

Father Umlaut, a cheerful, portly priest was putting up the buckets and brooms in the sacristy of St. Griselda’s. As usual, he’d had to clean up after the morning Mass. There were few Papists in his parish, and the episcopal directive that paid positions such as sexton (and except for musicians) had to be given to the “true Faithful” rather restricted the available pool of talent for sextons and such. No matter, he needed the little exercise it gave him, and the extra prayer time before the Eucharist. He was grateful for the good nature of the villagers. His Altar Sodality was mostly Protestant (and the reason that his main altar cloths were quilts). He finished locking up the chalice and rinsing out the cruet (most churches used two, one for water and one for wine ... since he tended to pour straight from the bottle which was shared with folks after Mass .... it being always donated by one of the local vintners .... he only needed one cruet).
He went out into the Sanctuary again, genuflected, and happily turned towards the doors and their enticing view of Bruderhansen beer garden across the road. Abruptly, a shadow detached itself from the stairs to the choir loft. “Eine Moment, mein Vater,” it whispered.
“Certainly, mein Herr ....?” Fr. Umlaut responded.
“Herr Schwartzmann, Vater,” the man whispered.
“You need Confession?” The priest asked the stranger.
“Nein. Ich nichts hier bin, Verstehe?” it whispered back.
“Ah,” the normally cheerful cleric was saddened. More difficulties, and now in his parish. “Sigh”.
“Kommen Sie vor dem Hurtshog.”
“The Hurtshog!?!” Father Umlaut quickly lowered his voice. There’d been rumors of a wound and an infection in the battle at the Gallian Depot. Were Last Rites needed for their patriotic ruler? “I’ll get my anointing kit,” he whispered to the stranger and turned back to the sacristy.
“Nein, nein,” the dark man responded. “Aber, Kommen Sie schnell, bitte.” The man tugged at Fr. Umlaut’s cassock urgently, so they went outside together. Father saw a tinker’s cart waiting beside the church and clambered aboard with Schwartzmann. They soon plodded out of town, but as soon as the road curved behind the first hill, Schwartzmann shouted and the horse broke into a swift trot. Startled, Father Umlaut looked more closely at the mane, tail, and rump rushing ahead of him. This was no tinker’s horse!
After they’d jounced down the road for about a half an hour, the cart turned onto a faint trace which Umlaut knew led to a dilapidated estate which had been an hunting lodge in a previous century. No sooner had the cart passed through the tree line, however, two dragoons rode quickly out of cover and challenged them. Schwartamann simply stood up in his seat and lifted the huge,, floppy hat. The troopers saluted and turned back to their hiding places.
Seconds later, the cart came into view of a very refurbished mansion. Fr Umlaut swept his eyes around quickly and spotted mounted Cuirassiers of the Lieb Garde posted about the park. Once again, the good priest worried for the safety of Frankszonia. As they drove through the gates, he noted that the sentry boxes were filled with Jaegers who stood guard with the crispness of Grenadiers. Two civilians came out to help the priest down.
“Herr Schwartzman,” one of the men said quietly to the priest’s companion.
“Herr Badmann,” the tinker replied.
“We’ve got some hot Frankfurters boiling.”
“I’ll drink to that,” Schwartamann completed what was obviously a ritual. “He seemed familiar?” he asked about the other civilian who was leading the cart and its horse away.
“Von Mack,” Baddmann grinned.
“Ah,” Schwartzmann nodded his acknowledgment.

As the party entered the gloomy hall, Fr. Umlaut heard a baby crying somewhere nearby. A door opened and a Russian hussar and a Turkish officer stepped towards them warily. “Well, Mackie,” the Turk asked in the local German dialect, “is this your little saint?”
“Prince Allbrick?” Fr Umlaut burst excitedly.
“Nein, Nein,” Schwartzmann interrupted, “Er ist der Pasha Pastrami!”
“Right,” the priest winked at the “Turk” who then introduced his friend, SomeRussian Guyovitch. They apologized for their unfamiliarity with local customs as they led the priest into a chamber where two ladies were soothing a cradle and a group of officers were clustered near the fireplace. Hottotrot and Beauphaup were seated with another lady beside a wounded officer lying on a chaise. Then, the Hurtshog rose somewhat stiffly from the cluster of officers.
“Benjamin,” the portly noble greeted Fr Umlaut. “I’d take you by the hand, but they’ve got it tapped to my side,” he chuckled. “Your Highness,” he called to the women by the cradle, “If you and your brother would be so good as to join us?” One of the ladies rose and joined with Guyovitch and the Pasha. Umlaut recognized the Duchess v. Kern.
“This is a pleasure!” the priest hugged her jovially. “We were all afraid that you’d been killed in one of Stanken’s mad schemes.”
“Unfortunately,” one of the officers responded grimly, “the order knows we’re all alive too.”
“The order?” Umlaut was shocked. “That was suppressed!”
“Yeah, right,” the “Pasha” responded. “I had to shoot my way through them at Aschenberg.”
“And,” Guyovitch added, “since they’re suppressed, they can’t possible be combining with von Pederastein from Stagonia, right?”
“That’s sickening,” Umlaut agreed.
“We’ve thought of a way of spotting them, however, before they strike,” a tall, dark officer volunteered in an heavy accent. “They will be hunted even as they stalk us.”
“And that,” the Hurtshog chimed in cheerfully, “is where you and your empty church come into the game.”

some cheery thoughts

2010-08-30T07:31:00.000-07:00

Last night, at our evening prayers, Edie and I got a bit of an insight.
Our bodies have been scaring us a lot lately ... serious pains, heart trouble, blood clots, etc. etc.
for years, we've counted on the prayer support of our friends to carry us over the crisis.
We were wondering why all these prayers were getting such partial results when we realized ...
for some years, our living conditions had been really horrible ... and every attempt to improve them proved either beyond our reach or suddenly evaporated.
In the last few months, however, several of these problems have suddenly found real solutions which may be developing into a sustainable situation.
It seems obvious to us now that God saw that healing our bodies would be non-productive as long as the conditions which seemed to create our troubles continued ... and the healing began with things like getting our yard bull dozed clean.
Praise and Thanksgiving !

just an update

2010-08-27T11:18:00.000-07:00

First of all, I thank you all for your kind wishes.
The recovery continues apace ... unfortunately at a very slow, pre-Frederick pace!
As one problem improves, another is unmasked. If things continue, I'll be able to start new therapy September which will be a major improvement all around.
Unfortunately, until then, between the zombie impact of the medications and the time to lie very quietly with my legs up ... there's less than an hour out of every four. I'm hoping that I'll be able to undertake a speaking engagement in September which doesn't leave me any time to paint figures, push lead, or really write fun events.
This has led to a major hiatus with the Margrafin and Mr. Mack ... for whom I'd planned a dizzying set of dances, parties, and intrigues (a couple of my officers being classic ... uh ... romantics? .... ) I'm tempted to say that they had to be put into quarantine for their protection ... but as a lovely adventure seems about to be written for them on another blog ... :)
On the good side, the wife came across a couple of scenario maps and wants to play one of the games, so a good game is now scheduled for the day after the new therapy starts! Of course, given that she'll be involved, there should be some good pictures too. Hope springs eternal!

Ground Round ...

2010-08-14T17:33:00.000-07:00

Just a quick hello ...
I've been laid up, but the infections seem to be receding and the deep vein thrombosis may be in control ... but alas, it limits the time I'm allowed to sit up and type!
I did manage to sneak a small game in anyway ... no pictures again, alas.
Report afterwards.

swords are crossed

2010-07-25T13:30:00.000-07:00

Giblet already knew that his own goose was cooked, but he gallantly attempted to fight. First he sent gallopers into the depot to bring warning. Then he called his scattered troopers to rally south of Friedburgerwart. Even as his detachments came rushing towards him, however, the Gallian officer saw the hostile dragoons dash through the village and wheel their sections into line. Knowing that his squadrons would never be able make a regular formation in time, Giblet gambled and ordered them to dash, helter skelter, into the foe.
Surprisingly, most of his troopers did charge, but many seemed to shout, “get stuffed!” and flee back towards the depot.
The foe made a short counter charge, but their mass and formation easily pushed aside the confused Gallians. Major Giblet had his hat shorn away and the epaulet on his right shoulder sliced in half. A Gallian dragoon grabbed the stunned Major’s reins and led him out of the melee onto a grassy knoll.
As the depressed and shaken officer tried to gather his faculties, he rejoiced to see the Oullette Hussars hurring up the road. Then his spirits were dashed again, as a couple squadorns of hostile dragoons caught the hussars still in march column and scattered them as well. Giblet observed that a particular officer, dressed in glowing white, seemed to be the spark behind the rapid reaction and energy of the enemy force.
Then, the alarm cannon and drums roared from the depot. “Finally,” Giblet told the few troopers who were gathering around him. “Let’s see if we can rejoin the cordon in time. Perhaps we delayed them long enough for Broglie to wake up and wave his hands at somebody to take care of the problem!”
They road back towards camp, and saw the other squadrons of their regiment formed up covering some infantry battalions deploying. The Gallians, however, made no attempt to advance to the site of the skirmish, where a huge, reverse colored Frankszonian flag marked the center of a reforming, and still growing, force.

The raiders close in at last!!

2010-07-22T04:40:00.000-07:00

(Used a lot of graph paper and dice ... heavens! I miss my miniatures! May be September before they're excavated {something about not letting me heave around tubs filled with lead ... Pfui!})

Major Giblet was worriedly riding his squadron's post at Friedburgerwart just inside the Frankfurter close. The major Gallian supply dumps lay just south of him inside the Frankfurter Gebeit (which is surrounded by tree lined ditch and dyke). Word had already reached him that the expected Resistance raid on the depot had begun. There had been intense fighting to the west, and the smoke rising from the echoes of cannon fire were not as exhilirating as distant fireworks.
The Major ordered his detachment to spread out in skirmishing order towards the west in case any of the foe got by the Frankszonians who were trying to stem the assault for themselves.
He had a good unit. Drawn from the Queen's Garden, l' Tampon Azure had acquired a reputation for plugging many a bloody hole in the line. He was confident that their ability to soak up the pressure would give time for the depot to deploy its defense.
Suddenly, one of his troopers came dashing down the line from the dyke. "There's a large force advancing from the Justice De Burgerwart, M'seur!" the man shouted. Major Giblet raced to the dyke to discover a large cavalry force of several squadrons deploying less than a mile away behind him in the east! (A couple of lucky initiative rolls had forced the Gallian unit to guess at the angle of the attack ... they goofed and Parsleigh had force marched into position).

More to follow in a few hours, I"m not supposed to be up right now, LOL

They Shall Not Pass!

2010-06-24T17:53:00.000-07:00

http://campaignsingermania.blogspot.com/2010/06/hurtshog-en-bataille-chapter-1.html

Bill Protz has kindly undertaken to resolve the middle battle in the Tannes Berg (btw, Bill, the Tannes mtns are NORTH of Frankfurt, :) ).
Lovely pictures and resolution using his excellent BAR rules (which I've praised elsewhere and used myself once or twice).
So far, the battle is exciting and events are still in the balance.
We'll await results eagerly!

Woad is driven away from Rudelheim!

2010-06-24T17:44:00.000-07:00

The after Action Report is at Murdock's Marauders ...
http://murdocksmarauders.blogspot.com/2010/06/proxy-battle-after-action-report-my-son.html

Woad will have greater control over his survivors than the Rudelheim contingent, so I figure they'll get back to base ... but the road is open for the flight of Parsleigh and RausenMarie after they've hit the depot ... at least as far as the main road over the Tannes Mountains, where another battle is taking place ...
:)

Those Three Small Battles ....

2010-06-07T23:51:00.000-07:00

I'm looking at three brigade size encounters, as the Gallians and the Frankfurters catch the Resistance forces coming through the mountain defiles. More details as soon as health permits ....

One collision will be Rudelheim militia and dragoons running into Highlander mercs and fusiliers and Hussars (Frankszonia under Broderick Woad) in open but rolling terrain. I think Murdock will be taking this one. This will be the western encounter.

Two: will be veterans versus Guard .... the resistance will be running the Old Retainers (elite unit), estate jaegers, and another line regiment with a regt. of curiassiers against a battalion of Guard, two converged battalions of Grenadiers and a regt. of Cuirassiers ... which are under the direct command of the Hurtshog. I think Bill Protz will be taking this one, as involves the resistance trying to sneak out of the woods on the Tannes berg (exiting a mountain pass).

Three: will be the Fisch Freicorps (2 battalions) and militia fusiliers with a brigade of dragoons and Marie's artillery under Parsleigh ... who will run into Gallian dragoons who will be swiftly reinforced by whomever is parked over the depot .... but the engagement will occur close enough that Marie's artillery or a squadron of dragoons will have an opportunity to try to fire the depot ....
Ideally, the Resistance forces will slightly outnumber their foes. If Frankszonia and Gallia win a scenario, the victorious units may try to interdict the retreat line of another Resistance unit ...

I'm trying to get some painting in, as that can be done in my bed (for a long while I couldn't even lean forward to touch brush to palette). Anyway, I've got another squadron of 14 Hussars on preliminary basing (and found the missing three riders tonight); a third squadron of 17 Hussars ready to prime (all Revell Plastics); about 30 Minden Prussian grenadiers (which would be two Koenig Krieg battalions) and 12 Minden fusiliers (another K.K. battalion) ready for priming.
Unfortunately, my primer bottles seem to have been swept up in the general haul out of stuff from the living room!

:)
Arthur

Catch up Post, May 2010

2010-05-29T07:22:00.000-07:00

End of May 2010 catch up post.

Due to life intervening (which has turned out better than expected at the moment, thanks be to God), I’ve been off the computer for weeks. Moreover, my figures and terrain materials are in temporary storage. The only figures I’ve got out for painting are the Revell Prussian Hussars ... and they’re giving my limited skills fits!! LOL

This has left me with a whole series of planned scenarios which can’t be resolved until later in June at the earliest, so I’m looking for proxy battle volunteers who can field at least a good brigade of infantry and several squadrons of horse – all with artillery support for each side.
It would be nice if the officers, etc. of each army are given a sort of role play reaction to the events on the table .... as many know, there are short files on all of them down to battalion commanders! (Grin)

Some months ago, I lost my favorite atlas (Wesserman’s Grosser Atlas zur Weltgeschicte). We lucked up on an affordable version of the ‘67 edition, and my beloved wife made that her anniversary gift to me. Perusing the various pages (which naturally tend to emphasize German concerns), I am again amused by the incredible plethora of mini-states in Germany at the time. Indeed, in one map of a section of Swabia, I think, I found two “countries” which were less than 4 square miles in territory! Of course, this enthused me even more over our imagi-nations and their travails. The idea of many, very small force scenarios increases my frustration over this period of enforced inactivity (wry grin).

Anyway, it is necessary to update things as swiftly as possible.

V. Mack and most of his party survive ... Beauphaup is wounded (shot from the side while fencing with another assassin) and two of his aides are killed. The assassins are hirelings who’ve been paid with Gallian coin ... but the contact information one carries connects to a known Stagonian smuggling ring. With the return of the Hurtshog, Princess Stuftliana is able to extend official hospitality to the Beerstein party.
(There will hopefully be a more extensive after action report later ... can't promise it, alas. Also, my notes are confused as to which of the Beerstein men is fevered from his wound ... I'd kind of like to spare SomeRussian Guyovitch, but he was the target after all ...).

An envoy is dispatched to the Kingdoms of St. Maurice. We’ve come across some corrosive salt and pepper mixtures which damage zombies and cause them immediate distress when fired from shotguns .... also, bladders filled with oil of vitriol seem to show some promise ...

—
The Sultan of Swat has acquired a new staff officer, Hauptman Heinrich der Alte. He has an endorsement from the Trucks and Turbines for his service with light infantry and cavalry.
—
An envoy is dispatched to Hesse Fedora requesting them to expel the Frankszonian Resistance and Cheezers from their territory. Hesse Fedora is gently reminded of traditional friendship with Frankszonia which the Hurtshog has maintained in spite of their currently being allied to Germania.
—
An envoy is dispatched to Hesse Homburg, requesting that they do not violate Frankszonian territory in their internecine dispute with Hesse Fedora.. Also, complaints are lodged with Gallia about Hesse Hamburg's arrogance and territorial violations (ironically, it seems that Hesse Homburg may be filing almost identical complaints, just with the names switched so as to appear innocent).
—
Unsubstantiated and malicious rumors report that Frankszonian officers are reconnoitering the intervening terrain between the two Hesse Hats. That such rumors are fallacious is obvious. After all, prior to the Gallia / Hesse Seewald war, Frankszonia was very actively asserting its influence in that area. The Tannes Mountains are embraced by Frankszonian territory along the Nidda River ....
----
Hans Muckiethaler, the financier involved in the Frankszonian Resistance, has offered to loan Hesse Seewald a treasure apparently of Hindu origin. He is acting as the agent, he says, of a consortium of four adventurers who'd been lucky in Agra.
—
Baron Bastille, the Gallian Intendent at Frankfurter, has recently found himself the target of the attentions of two Fraulein. One has a dragon lady widow mother (who has also hinted at her loneliness, unfulfilled desires, etc.), and the other is staying with a tipsy uncle and her foppish cousin.
---
Gen. Hottatrot is seeking some hoboists to play in his regimental band.

celebrations

2010-05-12T07:40:00.000-07:00

Things have been a little hectic here .... getting some work done on the house and enduring some more health problems, but thankfully, doing a little better today ...
the 20th anniversary of our marriage ... the one time I know I beat my beloved's dice roll!!
:)
Arthur

A brouhaha

2010-04-14T19:38:00.000-07:00

Brouhaha.

Even as the landlord got his footing in the archway, dark shapes boiled out of several stalls. The Croat fired his musketoon and dropped one, but this drew a fusillade from the attackers’ pistols. The Croat was slammed against the arch and slid down with a groan. The dark figures continued their rush resisted by only the landlord.
Now it was true that the landlord had had little military training, other than the standard required of all the local citizens, but the peaceful reputation of his inn rested largely on the fact that the landlord was a pieceful man, in that other’s picked up the pieces etc.... The assailants ran into a much more muscular wall than they’d counted on. A fist used to easily handling fifty pound hams can also usually lift someone off their feet if properly placed just on the jaw. The landlord managed to knock another into the muck before a clubbed pistol behind the ear also dropped him onto the pavement.
By this time, however, the Prioress Hildegarrd had pulled two pistols from her robes and leapt into the gap. Her shots spun one assailant around and caused another to duck back. This left one lonely fellow to try to dagger the “nun” as he surged past. Unfortunately for the luckless man, he stumbled over the bodies in his way, and as Hildegarrd caught him, another Croat’s musketoon was discharged directly into his face.
More cloaked figures charged out of the common room while everyone seemed to be focused
on the fight in the stable archway. Their pistols dropped another Croat and hit one of the “nuns” in the shoulder. While the little priest dove under the coach, three of the nuns fired back into the charge. This intimate discharge quickly piled three bodies onto the porch and momentarily stopped the charge. Suddenly, the “nuns” displayed broad bladed scimitars and with a wild ululation they rushed their foe. These men rapidly redeployed back into the common room and managed to bar the door just as the first extremely large nun crashed into it.
Windows in the upper floor now slammed open, and men leaned out to fire into the courtyard. Another Croat was dropped and one of the horses began to plunge out of control. Two of the nuns quickly ran behind the coaches to cover. These new assailants, however, had overlooked the four men on top of the carriage whose shotguns abruptly blew the assailants back into their rooms.
In one room, a young man looked at the his two bleeding companions and anxiously began to try to help them. In the other, however, the third man counted on the moment when the enemy would be reloading and leaned out the window to take aim. His folly was completely corrected by four pistols fired from less than ten yards away ... the coachmen had plenty of back up firepower!
There was now a wild volley from the windows of the common room, and the nuns on the porch quickly took cover. The landlord, however, by now had risen from his feet, and the assailants in the stables had fled to their horses. “This way!” he shouted to “Sister” Hildegarrd and the now dismounted Croat. Bursting through a side door into the kitchen, he grabbed utensils from the kitchen table and dashed into the common room, taking the band clustered around the windows from behind!
The landlord’s furious scream as he charged was punctuated by the discharge of Hildgarrd’s pistol and the Croat’s musketoon. The confused assassins tumbled over each other as they tried to face this new assault. Which held one hapless man steady in front of the landlord’s flung cleaver.
The assassins discharged their own weapons into the smoke and drew their swords. They began to try to spread out, kicking tables out of their way. At this moment, an explosion ripped apart the door to the courtyard! As the “nuns” pile screaming into the room, a few men manage to escape, but most throw down their swords and yield.
As the landlord and his new guests search about the inn, they find two dead assailants and one unconscious in the stable yard; one dead and one injured upstairs; two dead and one injured on the porch; and four injured and three healthy captives in the common room. Alas, two of the Croats and on of the nuns were also dead. Two other Croats, including the veteran leader, were injured and two of the “nuns” were also bleeding. The little priest proved to be skilled surgeon and the wounded would probably all survive.
Nothing could be gained from the captives, unfortunately, other than “the Holy Office” had dispatched them to intercept “the Apostate” who was believed to be traveling disguised as a Croat to some anti-Papist plot in the Rhineland. The Croats were as confused as the landlord, and the “nuns” who were obviously Turkish eunuchs, weren’t conversant with enough German to illuminate anything. The four coachmen just demanded more beer and roasted pork.
Bernard was found sporting a bruised bump on his head and bundled into one of the stalls with a pregnant mare. The priest cautioned the landlord that Bernard’s seemingly minor injury could be more dangerous. “One cannot cauterize the brain,” he admonished the landlord.
“Funny,” the landlord responded, “all these years I thought somebody had already cauterized his brain.”

Another family emerges:

2010-04-11T15:17:00.000-07:00

Inspired by the presence of the Iznplotz regiments in Germania (see Alte Fritz' blog), I'm generating another military dynasty to help the poor Hurtshog.

Hauptman Izzent Plotzt, son of,
Col. Ishent Plotzt , son of,
Brig. Shnot Plotzted, (rummored to be a son of a Bysshe from England) ...

It was very wet night ...

2010-04-11T15:01:00.000-07:00

As v. Mack hastened down the stairs, he heard a noise and bustle from the ground floor. Quickly taking a post at a landing, he glared down at the figures milling around in the foyer. To his surprise, he recognized the long absent Comte l' Beauphaup. However, Mack's professional eyes noticed that instead of the usual cluster of fancily dressed youth, the accompanying men had the hardened look of seasoned dragoons.
Mack quickly slid down the hall to the doors of his employers and gave the special knock.
"Wonderful!" the Duches v. Kern declared as he stepped in. "Have you noticed that Frankszonia has FINALLY decided to officially recognize our presence?"
"Perhaps," Mack responded coolly, "they decided they'd need to while we were still present."
"Oh, I wasn't planning on leaving without SOME sort of meeting," The Duchess replied icily.
"It's not your plans, but those of Louis and Hugh d'Vile I'm worried about," Mack responded.
Somerussian Guyovitch lurched to his feet. "Where?"
"Close, and with a team for backup."
"They mean to get all of us!" the Duchess gasped.
Mack's trained ears noticed the tread of cavalry boots crossing the floor above them.

Arrgh!!

2010-04-05T18:47:00.000-07:00

I'd started to game the situation at the inn ... using a fudged version from Two Hour Wargames black powder rules. However, the game suffered a major cat-astrophe.
On the plus side, he did NOT jump on the battle board, but carefully avoided it like the good cat he is.
On the disaster side, his big fluffy tail ... ...
I'll need to fudge up something to replace the floor plan and hopefully find the other figures ...

Before I forget, however, initial moves reveal that the "nuns" are Turkish eunuchs ... armed with pistols and scimitars. The coach men are excellent shots, having pistols, rifles, and shotguns. The Croats are old soldiers ...

The assassins are NOT mercenaries, but fanatics and volunteers and of enough income level to dash about the continent on wild escapades ... hence, though they outnumber the target, they are much less well co-ordinated. They are talented and eclectically armed. At the moment, three are down in the porch of the common room, while others fire through the shutters ...

The rush from the stables has knocked down the old Croat and the innkeeper, but the struggle gave the "prioress" and "Sister Hermenigarde" time to engage. One of the other Croats is down and out (leaving three still up and mounted, though their muskets are now discharged). Two of the "nuns" are injured, and two have tried to take cover under or behind their coach. The coachmen have exchanged shots with attackers in upper windows ... the coachmen are all right so far, and the effect of their fire isn't known in the yard yet ...

The innkeeper, though knocked down, is not out, and is about to go into berserkergang ....

Of course, nobody has actually SEEN the Apostate yet ....

Meanwhile, back in Frankfurter ....

2010-04-04T15:39:00.000-07:00

Von Mack, sitting near a window in a quiet cafe near the temporary residence of his nobles, observes a large man striding through the dark puddles of the wet night. That can only be Moosehunter, he thinks when the figure suddenly stops in a bit of shadow and seems to look directly at his window. Then, with a quick sideways jerk of the head down the street, the large man strides into the rain.
v. Mack quickly rises and tosses a coin to the barman, grabs his coat, and hurries out into the street. Moosehunter has vanished, as V. Mack expected, but a quick whisper from a sodden, late night vendor asks, "Some goat cheese, meine Herr? It's quite fresh, and there's more to be had at the Sign of the Broken Flute."
"Goat cheese?" v. Mack asks, then comments, quietly, "this looks more like some Muenster."
"There be plenty of monsters on the street tonight," the vendor responds. Then he quickly crosses the street, turns a corner, and vanishes.
V. Mack looks at the cheese in his hand, and notices the paper in which it is wrapped. He hurries back to his rooms and presses the paper against the chimney of his lamp to read "3 + karl v". Rapidly snatching up a case from his luggage, v. Mack hurtles out of his room towards the quarters of the V. Kerns.

A Bell Rings

2010-04-03T16:05:00.000-07:00

The landlord jerked awake behind his bar as the gate bell rang. Who would bother? The gate would not be barred this early, even though there was no custom to speak of on such a horrible night. Cold rain, dark cold rain, about what you’d expect at the end of winter, he thought. At least there’s no lightning.
The bell rang again, and there was pounding on the gate.
The landlord’s comments revealed his Platt Deutsche origins as he grabbed a lantern off one of the wooden pillars and trudged out into the rain. “Are you crippled?’ he shouted into the night. “The bar isn’t dropped yet!” Then, in the swaying shadows, he noticed that a barrel had rolled against the gate somehow. Between his rich, lowland comment on the situation, he assured the unseen guests that he would quickly remedy things. His language became even more florid when he realized that the barrel was from today’s shipment of Italian wines ... and he’d need every drop, he had, if his guesses about the strange crowd in the back rooms was correct. Had to be a mercenary band from Italy ... Italian officer, Spanish troopers, and God knows what else. They’d retired too early, but he’d wager that they’d be out for refreshment before the last bell rang. Mercenaries were always notoriously thirsty!
As he bent for keg, however, the landlord suddenly stopped an peered through the gate window. Armed and mounted men? Before he dashed back inside to raise an alarm, however, he spotted the two coaches. “Who are you all?” he asked. “Where on this d-m-d night are you headed?”
“The Prioress Hildegarrd from St. Kunnegunde’s,” was the heavily accented reply. “They’re being sent to start a ladies’ home in Bravaria somewhere.”
“Okay,” the landlord grumbled as he rolled the keg away. “Come on in, and I’ll rouse the ostler. Bernard!” he shouted. “Bernard! Look lively! We’ve got another herd of pf—ing horses, and you’ll have to find room for them.!”
The convoy rattled onto the paving stones of the inn’s yard, and some of the coachmen sprang down to place steps at the doors facing the inn. A small wiry man in priest’s garb came out first and helped down the prioress. The landlord greeted her fulsomely, while noting that she seemed much more plump than he’d expected ... ah well, he had some good hams which could be prepared quickly.
“Where’s the ostler?” one of the mounted guards asked.
“With tonight’s rain,” the landlord grumbled, “he’s probably sound asleep. He has had another large batch of horses to bed down earlier tonight.”
The men and the nuns exchanged quick looks at this. “Will you have enough room, then?” the priest asked in a reedy voice. The nuns in the second coach stopped dismounting and listened worriedly.
“Sure, they were a cheap bunch and bedded down together like they were back in the barracks,” the landlord responded grumpily. “Bernard!” He shouted again.
One of the Croats dismounted. “Perhaps,” he commented, “we will go together and rouse the stables.”
“I am so sorry,” the landlord apologized. “I am completely mortified, Mother,” he groveled to the prioress. “Alas, meine Herr,” he continued to the soldier, “I’m afraid you have the right. How long have you been in service?”
“Excuse me?”
“There’s hardly any accent in your Deutsche,” the landlord said. “Usually, that means a veteran in the Merry Teaser’s service.”
“Her father’s, actually,” the soldier responded.
“I’m afraid he was the last of the old emperor’s,” the landlord sighed. “Well, we’ve a reputation of being a quality but orderly stopping point for soldiers now for almost a hundred years.
“Sisters, the common room is just through that porch,” he continued. “My maid will be glad to wait on you. We do have some good stew on, and if that runs out we can have some excellent ham cooked in just a few moments.” He turned then towards the stable, escorted by the soldier leading his horse.
In a moment, they’d splashed through the arch leading into the stable yard. The landlord threw open the large doors and shouted, “Bernard!”
There was no answer, but a couple of lamps were still lit and a water bucket was spilled in passageway. The landlord cursed, and started forward, but the soldier grabbed his shoulder and pulled him back. In the same motion, the soldier slipped his musket off his shoulder and stepped back into the archway while cocking it.
“What? What?” the landlord spluttered. His fear of armed bands rushed back over him, as he noticed that the other guards had spread out in the court and also now were prepared for combat.

Sprouts

2010-04-01T00:28:00.000-07:00

Scene: a dark, somewhat dingy room lit by a single candle. Bundled shapes lounge or lay about on crude furnishings while their breath steams in the cold. Rain drums on the strake shingles, but the sound of a horse galloping up and stopping outside is still audible. Most of the bundles begin to move into a more upright stance, and there is a sound of metal sliding across leather.
Steps and muffled voices sound from a room beyond the door, followed by a quick rapping.
One man rises and slightly opens the door while another stands behind it.

"They've been spotted at the Hausenstein ford," a voice says quietly from outside.
One man in the center of the room speaks clearly but with an Italian accent, "were they able to cross?"
"Yes, my Lord."
"They're continuing on in this storm?"
"It looks like they're trying to get here."

A moment of quiet excitement and rustling figures follows until the lord asks, "How many and how long?"
"Looks like about a half dozen outriders and two coaches, my Lord. Given the condition of the road, they could be over an hour out, but normally it'd be about half an hour to here now."

The nobles stands up and begins to divest himself of the rug in which he'd been wrapped. A Spanish accent from the corner cautions, "Quietly, Gentlemen. Quietly. And no smoking. Wait for the bell."

Growing grains ...

2010-03-31T09:15:00.001-07:00

Given the recent splurge in interest in 18th cent colonial conflict, I'm guessing that Frankszonia will need to hassle with the Dutch in the East Indies .... we have to protect our spice supply!

Meanwhile, a couple of non-descript coaches and Croat outriders toil through the heights and rain and mud of western Austria ...

Dispatch from Sonnenhauf near Klein Umstadt

2010-03-23T20:42:00.000-07:00

From: General L'Marquie d'Hottatrot
To: His Grace, the Hurtshog Stanken Fharts v. Frankfurter

Sire:

I have met and foiled an attempt to penetrate the defiles of the OdenWald by the Colon Coalition.
Our scouts and sources report a concentration near Radheim.
It is possible that the foe will attempt to maneuver further north to near Schafheim to strike at us via Schlierbach. As this would expose them to an assault on their flank launched from good cover, I believe that they will first attempt to force a somewhat more constricted passage directly from Radheim to this place.
Our forces have deployed for a rear slope defense, but a curve in a watercourse east of here provides us with the opportunity to contest two bridge crossings. The first is actually in the defile, but the second is below the ridge which we are holding. Furthermore, the enemy would be constricted by the bend in the stream and have only bridge to his rear for his guns.

I have the honor to be your servant,
L'Marquis Hottatrot

Mud on the Carpets!

2010-03-21T16:30:00.000-07:00

Early morning and drizzly rain, the perfect time for a contingent of exhausted, mud splattered riders to crash through the various carts and stalls, splash across the square, and blunder into the palace grounds. As the guards snap to attention (trying to ignore the horrible splatters on their dress whites), the party squelches to a stop at the steps. They help each other dismount, demonstrating a degree of stiffness one would expect from courtiers and overweight nobles who had just endured a grueling, multi hour dash through increasingly foul weather.
As they clatter and clump (and I do mean clump) through the doors onto the marble floors and priceless carpets (much to the dismay of the maids who had just finished their morning cleaning). loud roars (commands distorted by fatigue) bring a few staff officers hurriedly into the hall.
"Your Grace!" one of the men exclaimed, "You almost beat your courier here, we're still gathering."
"Gathering? This late in the day? When we've troops in the field?" the Hurtshog was NOT pleased.
Another over large uniform came through the door. The soldier wearing it was obviously not as fussed about appearances as the first rush of staff officers. He also seemed to have slept, or perhaps not slept, in his uniform. "Your Grace," he mumbled with a polite reverence.
"Okay, what happened, Oscar?"
"Well, we were on that zombie hunt on the border with Maurice when there was a local mutiny."
"Mutiny!?!"
"Yes, Sire, mutiny. We suspect Stagonian agents of course, but before we could prove anything, our flanking brigade ran into a war in Saxe-Bearstein."
"Saxe-Bearstein? Saxe-Bearstein!! Gut Got, Meine Herr, ve haff to haff SOME friends left in the world!" The Hurtshog's facial color was definitely getting florid.
"Nichts! Nichts!" Gen. Meyer reassured his old friend. "We were able to get in on our old friend's side. Already been some fighting down there. We've got Generals Schwann and Rosenschnauz in command of a good expiditionary force."
"By now," the one rider who somehow managed to still look daper intervened, "Gen. Hottatrot will be in command."
Gen. Meyer gave an inaudible sniff of disdain, but continued, "we have a slightly more serious situation though ..."
"I know, little Rausen Marie," the Hurtshog interjected. "I'm hoping we got here before anything happens."
"Well, we're not sure, ...." the old general seemed at lost for a moment how to continue ...
"The depot supplies may have been sabotaged again," one of the staff officers hesitatingly offered.

Meanwhile, Baron Bastille was angrilly shedding clothes in his quarters while staff gathered around. This being a family friendly forum, his comments on Frankszonian politics will not be shared. As his comments about Generals with Royal Favor being even less discrete and potentially harmful to his health, they will also be quickly smothered under a pillow.

Col. Mirage, however, was even more incensed than everybody else!
"Why .... I mean WHY haven't they been shot for mutiny?" he icily demanded.
"Well, Sir," the worried Major responded, "It's just happened, and honestly they do have a solid point. Besides, the powder is worthless ... it hardly ignites, let alone explodes."
"Okay," Mirage's expression seethed with not okay, "what happened."
"Well, the sergeants refused to make the cartridges because they thought the powder had been poisoned."
"Poisoned?"
"To paraphrase, Sir, they said it smelled like a thousand cats had pissed in it."
"That would be some strong saltpeter," Mirage acknowledged. "Go on."
"Well, we tested a bit, and it just smoked and stank, .... And stank, .... and realy gagged us all, Sir."
"Has a chemist examined it yet?"
"That's in progress, Sir." Mirage interpreted this as a more urgent version of "we'll got on it right away, Sir." The major continued, "but I'd guess somebody took some charcoal kitty litter, ground it up, and mixed up the gunpowder in some of the barrels."
"Just how many is 'some,' Major?"
"About a hundred and thirty five, Sir," the happless officer answered. "We're still checking."
"Out of how many barrels checked, Major?"
"A little over a hundred and fifty, Sir."
*Good God! Merci or Merde, Generals Cheveret and Broglie need to know about this right away!* Col Mirage thought. Then he had an idea as how to spare himself the immediate fireworks. "Major," he ordered, "have your personel report to me. You must go instantly and report this to the generals!"
"Oui, M'sr," the Major managed a disciplined salute and withdrawel.

*Now,* Mirage wondered, *which Frankszonian noble has tons and tons of cats around ....?"

Flank Stakes

2010-03-17T17:44:00.000-07:00

Flank Stakes

In one discussion group, folks were speculating on the classic, off-board Flanking Maneuver. The new idea was a strategic, rather than a tactical penetration. In other words, the flanking force would actually never appear on the table, as its target was deeper behind the lines in an effort to drive its foe (I’ll call them the target to keep things simple for my addled pate) completely from the position and to obtain a better battle ground for the decisive engagement.
Since this was the aim of the Colon Coalition in my last game, the question intrigued me a lot. I really wanted to see how Koenig Krieg handled off table movement, but my whole bag containing the rules, dice, and notes is missing (aftermath of the turmoil and turbulence of evicting a “houseguest”).

Now the key to understanding the conundrum here is the simple fact that both such a flanking force and whatever counterforce goes against them WILL NOT BE ON THIS TABLE AT ALL. Indeed, the outcome of the maneuver cannot be effectively known in the scope of a game which recreates the tactical or grand tactical encounter of forces in a specific place to be ideally resolved in one “game day” (or about 4 hours or less of play). While the flanking force and whatever it runs into provides a nice game scenario all in itself, the leading commanders today must fight without knowing how the flanking maneuver turns out. Their primary influence thus will fall into the objectives of the battle commander on that field and in the size and kinds of forces that commander would bring to the battle.

For the flanking player, the obvious choices would be as follows, I think:
a): the size and composition of the flanking force (for gaming purposes, I personally limit the options from 25% to 66 % of the O.B. available to the player);
b): the actual purpose of the strategic flanking maneuver (Is it a raid to say blow up a key bridge or depot? Is it to sieze a key node in the target’s supply line and hold it? Is it to seize a vital objective site to draw the target’s forces onto some sort of kill zone? Etc.): and
c): What is the actual objective now of the force left on the table (make a lot of noise, but run from any real counter offense; attack some point to prevent the target from quickly pulling forces out to meet the flankers; hold the position so that the flanker has to fall back to find another route or be trapped; etc. etc.)?

For the target, however, the situation is much more complex.
First, is the flanking maneuver detected? The determination of this can be a simple die roll modified by commander ratings; or it can be a complex matrix including the quality of scouting and screening forces deployed by each side, the nature of the terrain, who is “at home,” etc. etc. etc. For myself, I prefer very simple solutions.
BUT: if the flanking maneuver IS NOT detected, how to adjudicate “winner” and “loser” of the game, will the target player be allowed to make what sort of provision against the suspected strategic penetration?
IF the target suspects a flanking maneuver, but fails to roll a detection, what can he do? Should he crush the force in front of him and then race back to try to meet the force in his rear? Perhaps the flanking move is purely tactical? Should he hold back a force to deploy to either flank when the off board forces appear? This would obviously weaken the impact of any move made against the enemy on his immediate front. Perhaps, it might even freeze him in place.
On occasion, I’ve deliberately held units off the table on the first move or three simply in order to bring them on in my own rear to strike the target line where it had been weakened to defend against the suspected flanking maneuver (btw, I have consistently misspelled “maneuver” ... thank God for spill chick, eh?). With a “detect flanking force” roll, such a stratagem would be compromised ... as the foe will know they made their roll, yet no flanking force was revealed.

Here’s how I’m thinking of handling the problem.
First of all, both players bring “objectives” to the table, written down before deployment on the table, based on their intelligence of the opponent and what terrain they observe.
Second, tactical flanking forces can not be brought on the table for the first turn or two (there’s a number of systems for deciding when and how tactical flanking forces arrive ... I like simple ones based on the quality of the leadership).
Third, BEFORE DEPLOYMENT, any “detect flanking maneuver” roll should be made ... and this would require some basis ... scouting forces cut from the OB to scout: being on home ground: leadership quality. If the roll is successful, then the other player would need to declare that such a force exists. But this roll would ONLY apply to a strategic flanking maneuver ... in effect saying to the successful caster that some of my forces will not be on today’s table. This would retain the normal value of also including a tactical maneuver!
Fourth, at Turn Three, both players may write down revised objectives for their on board forces ... from “get away alive” to “crush these bozos to let me get at the rest undisturbed”. Then victory points or whatever can be considered in light of the last set of objectives ... and in the difficulty of switching one mode to another in media res ...

Obviously, this needs a whole lot more thought ... and remember I like simple but plausible mechanisms!

just a quick note ....

2010-03-10T21:50:00.000-08:00

before the bit about posting ethics ... there was some more byplay with the Gallians ...
I haven't had time to flesh out another scene do to some legal hassles down here (had to evict somebody).
Anyway, obviously, the gang comes thundering back into town to find everything in an uproar ... and relations with Raubenstadt will hit a new low when the dark beauty, Stuftliana, loses her temper over allegations of negligence from the Kerns .... V. Mack and various others will be running around trying to smooth things over ... while a suspected Stagonian noble is spotted near the waterfront across the Main visiting some house of low repute ...
:)
A

Staggering Stagonians

2010-03-05T06:35:00.000-08:00

I've been giving some thought, at Jeff's invitation, to some characters for Stagonia ... both those in the employ of the DeVilles and those who are under the illusion that they're free agents ...
One thing which was bothering me was the perversions and disgusting habits which I'd need to ascribe to them.
Obviously, there will need to be some degree of homosexuality ... it was a feature of the period for those who were determined to rebel against the mores of their class. Equally obviously, it needs to be handled with care. After all, I've already hinted at pedophila in the case of one expired character (whose son and protege are major characters in Frankszonia). In these times, such issues are very, very sensitive. So I need to watch my step.
There was some substance abuse in the period as well, but it was no where near as pervasive as it became later in the century ... and the selection was not nearly as diverse as it is today. So drug smuggling (with a side line in aphrodisiacs, knock out drops, etc.) seems like a likely industry for the Stagonian agent.
I've decided to not have ANY cases of abduction for sex (though abduction for hostage or for political marriage slides close to this) including no "date rape" scenarios (unless it involves a hint of bestiality, after all, those goats have a fiery personality).
So, at the moment, I'm looking at smuggling, drugs, seduction (either for sex or for treason) and debauchery, poison, scams, Ponzi schemes, extortion, protection rackets, crooked gambling, and writing filthy graffitti as the main lines for Stagonian agents ... any other ideas? And what would you guys suggest I NEVER really spell out (besides abuse and beastiality) ... ?
I've got a group of Stagonians on their way to perdition in Frankfurter to write up!
:)
Arthur

Traveling At Night

2010-03-05T06:23:00.000-08:00

Traveling At Night

Some rock or pothole had jolted him awake. Frankly, he was surprised that he’d fallen asleep in the first place. These frontier goat paths through the mountains didn’t really qualify as roads in broad daylight, and sending a coach rumbling through these mountains at night time was insane. Typical of little Stinky though.
He wondered if the driver and escorts were Frankfurter or Wiener agents. The two outriders had Wiener accents and old sergeant manners, but Adolf who sat across from was clearly part of Kunegunde’s agency. He wondered if that fixed smile would become alive if Adolf was watching some poor wretch being tortured. The way Adolf always knew where he’d planted his small backup pistol was unnerving.
At least Adolf did seem very solicitous of Hans, the poor Stagonian servant. That man looked like someone who had tried one of the bad dream powders from Asia. Clumsy, retarded, obedient to the letter of every instruction, the poor fellow had to be dressed and cleaned by Adolf Badmann.

He wished he could look out, even though it was nighttime. Moonlight on the high snowfield was always lovely. He would love to share that with his s ... aide. The lad slept the innocent and cheerful sleep of youth, while his secretary slept the experienced sleep of the old campaigner. The last time he had come this way, he smiled to remember it, he’d been amused by the fantasies of sweet, little Stuftliana. She’d more than half expected to be introduced into some rude fastness where men with horned helmets growled about the battlements or roistered drunkenly in the courtyard.

So she was a mother now. He shook his head. Time passes. Things change, but she’d been a vastly better companion than Badmann’s mannequin like fixed, blue smile. In the dark coach, Adolf’s face looked varnished.

He thought of the note from Dilbers he’d found in yesterday’s brats and wondered how many monasteries they were trying to slip past

There was a quick rapping on the blinds. Adolf pulled one back slightly. “Ja?”
“Hussars, Meine Herr.”
“Hussars?” There was an incongruous note of surprise.
“Hussars,” was confirmed by the rider outside.
Badmann frowned a moment. “Ask them for fresh horses, and show them the documents from the blue case.”
“Gut.”
“Now which case was that?”
“Blau, meine Herr.”
“Ja. Gut. And make sure that Hans has his blunderbuss ready.”
“Ja, meine Herr.”

There was stirring in the coach as everybody checked their frizzens and made sure that their other tools were accessible as the clatter of the wheels slowed.

Dropping from the Cathedral Eaves ...

2010-02-26T18:34:00.000-08:00

Eaves Dropping

Mack knelt in the darkness, leaning into the shadow of the great pillar. He smiled ironically. Frankfurter was mostly Anglerican / Lutheran and pro-Protestant. Still it had a sizable population of Papists, including the scandalous Later-In-The-Day Saints. That cult had very enjoyable festivals and celebrations, so everybody pretended to belong. Still, most days, the Ducal Cathedral was almost empty. Naturally, the foolish children thought of it as a private place for their trysts ... not realizing that anybody who actually entered the building was almost always noticed by somebody, and gossip blazoned their romantic secret across the market in seconds.

So, his informant being an imaginative lass from the mercantile class (which actually runs Frankszonia), had arranged her “secret contact” there.

It was no loss. The mother of the family came from the Reich Duchy of Beerstein, so folks would already assume that he would contact them. Then again, she was healthy, pleasant looking, and quite cheerful. Having himself linked in gossip with her could only enhance his carefully contrived reputation.

So, suppressing a quiet chuckle in the stained glass colored shadows, he began to cross himself and to rise ... but froze instead.

Another had entered the nave. Unlike most folks, who went softly and even attempted furtiveness, the figure strode quickly over to the candle stands and dropped some coins into the collection box.

“Do you need a lighter, my son?” an older cleric queried from the sanctuary.
“Certainly, Light is Needed,” the stranger replied. Mack could hear the capital letters and the Italian accent.
“Adjutorum nostrum in Nomine Domini,” said the monk.
“Qui fecit Caelum et Terram,” the stranger responded.
There was a moment of quiet as the two regarded each other and swept their eyes around the dark interior. They seemed to miss Mack still reverently kneeling behind his pillar.
“He’s been spotted,” the stranger.
“How close?”
“Cavenderia.”
“And?”
“We don’t know yet. The General Secretary thinks he sailed on to Trieste and has alerted the Tyrol brothers.”
“But you?”
“Up through Croatia to Vienna and then across to the Main somewhere.”
The priest demurred, “A Turkish Captain General going through Vienna without being spotted?”
“He’s a Fhartz. They have a low opinion of the Wieners’ intelligence already, and he would be a traveling German noble. Hardly remarkable or even noticeable in the waltzes or beer gardens.”
“You’re right,” the priest mused. “He also is remarkably well suited to come as one of the Croats or an Hussar. What do you suggest?”
The stranger sat in a pew, and Mack noticed that in spite of his martial bearing he wore no sword. “I sent a Postulant to Father Feurenkopf. They’ll be watching the inns to the west of Vienna. I think we need to get higher up the Main and stake out the boats. He could easily make entrance from Offenbach.”
The priest began to pace nervously. “What shall we do if he makes it?”
“I honestly don’t know,” the stranger complained. “I know that the Secretary and his cronies have their ideas, but none of them are really used to working in the field. What’s old Stinky up to? This could be a subtle bit of pressure on the Reichs Rat in Wien. It could be a trigger for some rumpus inside Stagonia. It could be merely working out a new route to smuggle in more spices for their Frankfurters.” He grunted wryly, “it could even be a purely sentimental desire to visit again. They were quite close when the Hurtshog was little.”
“Do you think the Hurtshog might reinstate him?” The priest was very worried at this prospect.
“It’s possible,” the Italian threw up his hands. “Everybody forgets that the Apostate is legitimate, and he’d make a very skilled Regent if it came to that.”
“Gott in Himmel!” the priest paled. “We’d lose our status versus the heretics!”

One of the ornately carved doors creaked open somewhere and banged shut. The priest quickly turned to trimming the candles while the Italian rose and knelt before them. A young man, plainly dressed but in fine cloth, came in peering around. “Father Silenius?” he called from the back, is that you?”
“Yes, Richter. I’ll be with you in a minute.” Father Silenius turned to the Italian, “I’d be blest to hear your confession, traveller,” he covered quickly. “Come, let’s step into the sacristy to be private a moment.”

The two plotters exit, and the youth advances up the aisle, anxiously watching them go. Mack slips quietly away and down the stairs to the cellar. So he missed the quick light-footed entrance of a pretty farm girl who hurried up to Ricther and quickly gave him a sisterly peck on the cheek.
"Rose Marie," Richter greeted her. "I always love to see you, but here? Now?"

"You have to know," she grinned as if she were flirting but kept her voice low. "Beerstein is getting involved."
"Stagonia again?"
"Possibly, but this reunion ... there's Fhartzen whom the Reich Duchy Lace would love to see expelled and blown away."
There is a noise of a chair scrapping across the floor in the sacristy. Rose Marie flies back out again, calling, "You HAVE to come to our cookout!"

The General is indisposed

2010-02-25T22:55:00.000-08:00

Somewhere in the Hessian scramble of states, a great army sits muffled against the winter cold. They are depressed as they seem to have stumbled on the threshold of a complete victory. Hesse-Seewald and Germania with British aid have stopped their advance. The cold, iron logic of the situation requires them to fall back on their ample depot near Frankfurter. Around their fitfully smoking campfires, the men are glad that the ground is firming up from the last winter storm. Marching in frozen mush is horribly uncomfortable, and the damage to their kit has all the sergeants practically incoherent. In their iced tents, they listen to the clatter and rumble of the endless wagon traffic bringing hay for the horses and taking the latest casualties ... most with frostbitten toes through the hills.

A low growl of noise seems unending from the thousands of men and their various implements and animals. Through this constant muted cacophony the sentries’ challenges and the clatter of couriers hooves occasionally places a stronger note in the mix. Tonight, however, some of the men at the fires stand up to watch, and some of the men raise their heads from whatever half frozen knapsack serves as their pillow. There is a rush of couriers, a cavalry horn sounds assemble, and staff officers and Brigadiers are seen hurrying about.

In his commandeered manor, General Chevert is irritably listening to an agitated Intendant Bastille. “This couldn’t have waited until the morning?” the General grumbles peevishly.

“Our own agents confirm the broad outlines of their warning,” Bastille asserts. “There could five or six thousand already mustered and more coming. It would be big enough to lob a lot of bombs into the depot, even if we keep them well out the supplies.”

“Really,” General Chevert replies, “shopkeepers, apprentices, farmhands, and the odd old noble who thinks himself a general!” He snorts disdainfully, “these seem hardly a threat.”

“You spend your summers on campaign, mon General,” one of Bastille’s aides intervenes. “These Frankszonians are weird. They pride themselves on their status as a Free State and as the traditional locale for crowning the Emperor. Their summer cook outs are accompanied by competitions in drill, manual of arms, and even marksmanship.”

“And I suspect that a lot of these wounded and prisoners going into Frankfurt are small units of Germanians or British, heavy on sergeants to provide the nerves for the force,” Bastille continues.

“Wounded and Prisoners to Frankfurter?” The General finally shows alarm. “They were supposed to concentrate on Mainz!”

“And, my agent pointed out another concern, General,” Bastille grabbed his advantage. “Many of the reliable and experienced Frankszonian units are involved in this affair down in Alesgarden. The people of Frankszonia are mostly Protestant and support the Elector against the Emperor. There is a good chance that some of the regiments in Frankfurter will turn coat. If they do, our foes could have twenty thousand men, many veteran regiments within yards of the Depot before any response could be made.”

“And Stagonia?” Chevert required.

“They definitely were involved in both the zombie affairs and in this recent mutiny which drew reliable forces out of town through the Stadt Wald ... and possibly in getting them mixed in with this Alesgarden Affair with the Reich Duchy of Beerstein.”

All of the aides now looked worried. Stagonia had the forces and the position to endanger all communications with Vienna and also would be a cancer in any defense of Bohemia. Since Aftschaftenberg was also in turmoil, the entire Gallian position could be fractured.

“What have you done already?” The General asked Bastille. Bastille was an excellent staff officer, and he had not shirked the firing line when his turn had come. The General was sure that the Baron had used his position to start some response already.

“I’ve sent the Marquis Hottatrot on with an escort of Hussars and Dragoons under Col. Mirage,” Bastille began, and defended his impertinence (which had already irritated the General), “ .... his men move fastest and the risk of a preplanned ambush could be best met his alert gifts for this sort of thing.”

“What’s done is done. What else?”

“The rest of the Frankszonian Nobles will be sent on back tomorrow with a flying wing of cavalry, light guns, and some freikorps.”

“I assume that you will accompany them, my Lord,” Chevert nodded.

“I suspect that the Hurtshog would cheerfully reinforce our depot guards with his own Lieb Garde and Cuirassiers in my absence, “ the Intendant acknowledged wryly. “It would be more efficient to steal our depot in one coup rather than the blood sucking they’ve used so far.”

“I am sure that his pet fop will write glowing reports of his sacrifice, energy, and dedication in service to our King and his Empress,” Chevert reflected. “I wonder what his real goal is?”

“Stagonia,” Bastille asserted.

Chevert looked at him for a moment and then back to the map table. “No, my lord Intendant,” he mused. “Stagonia is too far, too strong, and he knows we’d stop it until Stagonia stops sending us men, money, and supplies. Also, this whole thing stinks of that cabal’s little schemes. They’re trying to flush somebody out.”

There was a moment’s pause while everyone considered the irritations of the grating effect of the petty games of petty German princelings. One of the Intendant’s aides wondered aloud, “and where is Roquefort now?”

.....

Die HundeHof in der WodenWald

2010-02-23T12:08:00.000-08:00

Much more coming as this post gets edited ...
am having to work in short stints due to household problems impacting health (sigh)

The fabulous paintings of Dame Edith have arrived. Quite fortunately, she had been doing some studies of the flora in the OdinWald when hostilities broke out.

Even though she was enraptured by the precious beauties of the region, she sought out her friends among the Frankszonian forces. She was happily greeted by their commander, Hottatrot, who appeared exhausted but confident of victory.
He informed her of the possibility of a minor action near one of the manors she had been visiting, and she dashed back to catch the action.

(Picture is Wild Roses by Pickren Hall Road)

She arrived not a moment too soon, but thinking there was still time rode forward until she suddenly found herself surrounded by the approaching enemy!

(battle reports will be posted beside the pictures)
West end of area ... all forested (I couldn't get to my primary tree box). the Coalition is on the bottom of the board, and almost entirely Giant of Hong Kong figures (20 mm plastics, allegedly the worst ever made for AWI).
The FRangipani Hussars (Revell) who were in advance post managed to get a first move card and are quickly retiring from the ragged Coalition line of militia, grenzers and jaegers. Behind the Hunde Manor in the upper right, a battalion of good troops awaits to hold the enemy's advance and Jay's Jaegers are hiding behind the forested hill on the left. Hottatrot himself is leading the Frankszonian force.

Having done some sketches in the area, Dame Edith tried to get around their forces by swinging southwest into rough ground, but encountered a developing firefight between Jay's Jaegers and the Jaegers and light infantry of the foe! (ever noticed how hard it is to type when a cat decides to beat the keyboard with its tail in jealousy?)

The Coalition commander, Oberst Taunjyk, orders the advance to begin on the right while his center follows carefully behind the retreating Hussars. The two companies of Grenadiers were ordered to stand as a reserve.
Meanwhile, Jay's Jaegers are sneaking over the hill through the forest.

Now Dame Edith found herself trapped behind the attacking forces, which, though they treated her well, would not allow her to return to the Frankszonian position (the cads! As if such a genteel lady would be a spy!). So she climbed trees and dashed back and forth behind their lines to get quick sketches of the rapidly shifting action.

Coalition forces advance against the Hunde Manor. Grenzer company on the right, a militia company to the left .... this attack would eventually stall, but it would give Hottatrot a few tense moments first.
(Yes, those are chenile craft trees. Fun to make, very light, photograph well, and don't leave bits and pieces and shreds everywhere).

Blocked by dense woods and debris from an ice storm, she failed to find a route around the enemy's right flank either ... and then the horrible sound of cannons, rifles, and muskets firing fouled the air!

Fire erupts along the entire line. Jay's Jaegers have advanced to the forward slope and have engaged the jaegers of the coalition forces in a deadly fire fight.
BAR rules permit saving throws, which tended in this game to favor the Frankszonians (No, I did NOT have Dame Edith throw all of them, but Hottatrot is her second favorite character in Frankszonia).

Chocking on the vapors of the battle, she imagined that she dimly perceived vast forms manipulating the brave mortals through the trees .... (Okay, so I had to keep checking the rule book, and getting a tad flustered on turn sequence. Give me a break, I'm isolated, solo, and this was my first run through).

The Coalition presses forward in the center with alarming success.
Most of the cannoniers of the Frankfurter column actually fall to a musket volley (only two saves for the whole gun!). Since the very good troops (Minden Miniatures, alas, none of the pictures from that side turned out well) from Hottatrot's own regiment are taking a pounding, the General is worried, but orders the companies to hold fast to the manor house, hoping that Jay's Jaegers and their supporting battalion will be able to overcome the Coallition left.

The giant mist (state of my brain trying to remember rules and use them) seems to loom over the action and to push Jay's Jaegers dangerously close to their foes in the forest.

This picture shows the intense fighting around the Manor house. The Superior Hottatrot muskets not only flay the attacking force, but are making about twice the save rolls ... but the central battalion of Oberst Taunjyk's command is still pressing forward, and the Hussars are even further away though reforming (out of picture to the left).

Jay's Jagers wipe out the foe's Jaeger company and decimate the rest of the Coalition's left battalion!

This enables Jay's Jaegers supporting musketeers to begin to threaten the central advance of the Coalition. Taunjyk calls his grenediers to begin to advance to support the central force's flank.

Dame Edith perceives that after their strong advance, the Coalition appears to have stalled. The elemental giant does not seem to be intervening any more.

(Der Grosser is considering whether to charge with the Hussars now ... and is wary, considering the historical value of troops in line facing off a cavalry charge. Given the nature of the BAR cavalry rules, he decides he has to fudge (table is too, too small) and start them trotting now).

And, she notices that the Frangipani Hussars are returning to the fray, advancing on the shredded battalion which had pushed recklessly into the field between the Manor and the jaeger filled woods!

Meanwhile the Grenzers on Taunjyk's right finally crumble under the disciplined volleys of Hottatrot's musketeers ... this enables Hottatrot to bring a cross fire on the central battalion just as it is trying to face the advancing Hussars!

Smoke blooms again as the Frankszonian forces press back toward Dame Edith's tree.

The Coalition central battalion attempts to halt the Frankszonian advance to give the Grenzers time to reform. However, the Hottatrot battalion is now concentrating on their front and the fire from the flank is galling. The Hussars break into a canter, and the center battalion gives ground!

Dame Edith wisely clambers up a nearby hill and finds another good tree limb to observe the last moments of the conflict.

Oberst Taunjyk gathers what troops he can around his grenadiers and retires into the mountainous forest. Hottatrot considers that he has achieved his local objective of persuading the Coalition forces to take the northern route through much clearer terrain. Besides, in the forest, the wiley Taunjyk just might turn the tables again!

So once again, as a hawk swirls above the mess, memories of the moment when Colon almost burst through!

Becoming Endarkened ....

2010-02-06T13:06:00.000-08:00

Well, during a thaw, we clawed out over the mud and slush to the paved roads and drove into the next county .... in part, because that's the closest place to get film developed.
So I dropped off the roll which Edie had shot of the Odenwald battle ...
That night, as I was emptying my pockets, I found my nitrostats had mysteriously transformed themselves into a roll of film!
Yep, I had ...
Fortunately, I hadn't needed them (they're the emergency pills when my ticker takes off) and I'd a new bottle for back up at home.
Mall Wart has recovered my bottle and will hold it at their pharmacy for a few days ...
When, I hope, the pictures WILL be submitted for development.

Anybody need a court fool?

LOL
A

First Blood in the Colon ....

2010-01-31T19:51:00.000-08:00

First Blood ... OdenWald, near Rabach

First of all, I didn’t know which part of the Covenant army was facing Gen. Linnenblatt, so I took my farcical Order of Battle down there. Also, it was the first time in months that Edie had handled a camera (we’re snowed in, so it’ll be a couple of weeks). So I set this up as a preliminary skirmish using B.A.R. rules and a few of my Revell and Minden miniatures.

I had Oberst Taunjk leading his Grenzers supported by some grenadier companies through the Waldenburg to judge the practicality of the route (the main highway today).
The objective of General Hottatrot was to convince the Coalition that it needed the more open terrain of the more northern routes. So he took Jay’s Jaegers, the Frankgipani Hussars, and a battalion of his own Hottatrot Musketeers.

Hottatrot attempted to ambush Taunjk at a large estate north east of Rabach. Taunjk, however, halfway spotted the ambush and spread his grenzers out in a wide line and advanced. His forces had not spotted Jay’s Jaegers back in the woods and behind a ridge line until too late (happy card draw). The hussars had managed their fake flight without problem because the battalion coming down the road behind them had spotted the battalion guns at the estate.

Jay’s Jaeger’s eventually overwhelmed the battalion facing them, while the Hottatrot battalion, though badly shot up (the gun crew devastated) managed to hold on. Taunjk was regathering his own companies when he saw the Hussars returning to the field and withdrew behind the company of grenadiers.

Lessons learned,
1: even with just 24 man battalions, my little game board is not big enough to handle BAR.
2: Yes, one can forget almost everything one has read in the rule book in two weeks.
3: the card draw initiative creates some of the surprise of K.K.’s initiative rules (which I like, especially for solo play).
4: In spite of constant vigilance, the cats still managed to destroy one of my very rare Giant of Hong Kong Hessian Grenadiers (only have @ 6 left ... groan, gnashing of teeth).

Consequences,
The Farces of the Covenant of Colon are now approaching from the east via Radheim. There has been patrol contact at Hausenhof.
Hottatrot’s subordinates and staff are urging him to advance to the stream and gully from Gruenheckerhof to Eulheckerhof to exploit the forested rough ground on both flanks. Hottatrot has opposed this, however, and has elected to remain a Klein Umstadt and hopefully to engage the Colon forces before Sonnenhof.
His reasoning is that the forward position would enable the opposing army to also hold its ground without trouble, and even to mask a wide flanking movement to the north. At Sonnenhof, there is also a stream, though with two bridges and fordable for the length it is less of an obstacle. Hence, he hopes to draw the large Colon forces onto his own position in such a manner that his superior troops can exploit the open terrain to defeat them. Furhter, the rise from that stream to Klien Umstadt should enable him to spot any flanking maneuver in time to exploit the inevitable weakness this would cause to the Coalition forces.

The Farces of the Semi Colon army

2010-01-28T20:00:00.000-08:00

(this is a major amplification of earlier material)

The SemiColon Farces
Given that I've inveggled an invitation to play a proxy game with my farces near Oldendburg in the Alesgarden affair, I have to think up the enemy. Now the leaders of the Colon armies are brand name whiskeys, it seems. These days, the wife and I drink very, very little, so instead of brand names, I've focused on associated terms ...:)

Coalition of Colon
(Analyzed under the affluence of inkohol ....)

Co: Lt. General “Der Alte” Kroak

Sub Commanders: Major General d’Styll & Graf v. Ginnheim

d’Styll’s Command:

Cavalry: General Moenshein
CR Das Stiffs 1 X 14 @ (7) {Cuirassiers}
CR Talleine 1 x 14 @ (7) {Cuirassiers}

Infantry:
* Brigadier Brandett
IR “Inflexibles” 2 x 12 figs @ (5 morale) {+close order drill}
IR Furst Run 1 x 12 figs @ (4) (+drill}
* Inhaber V. Trink
IR v. Trink’s Frei Korps 2 x 12 figs @ (4) {Light Infantry}
IR “Die Alte Vinters” 1 x 12 figs @ (3) {militia}

1 battery light guns
1 battery 12 lbrs.

v. Ginnheim’s Command

Cavalry: Brigadier Passout
DR Schotzglas 1 x 14 @ (6) {dragoons}
DR Passout 1 x 14 @ (6) {dragoons}

Infantry:
*Brigadier Glasserstein
IR “Alte Still” 2 x 12 figs @ (4)
IR Wagnerein 1 x 12 figs @ (3) {militia}
*Brigade Taunjck
Oberst Taunjck
1st - 3rd Grenz 3 x 12 figs @ (4) {Light Inf}

1 battery howitzers

Of course, it might help to re-introduce these valiant gentlement who will be commanding the patriotic (if mostly foreign) farce of the foe ....

The Semi Colon Army Command

Frankly Phonies

Major General d’Styll (a steamy character)
Brigadier Passout (very unperturbable)
l’Comte Bourbons (ostentatious but smooth)
Brigadier Brandett (pronounced “Brandy” of course, can sneak up on you)

Die Deutsche Marks

*Lt. General “Der Alte” Kroak (who moans that the great old troops are nevermore)
Has been hired on basis of his glittering resume (gilt paper costs a lot.).
The resume lists the following:
his outstanding achievements in training infantry (he sponsored a good drill team);
His successful governorship of Fort Kleine Bubbles at Glashaus (little bubbles in the glass ... what actually happened was his fastidious obsession with appearance caused the fort to be so clean that local epidemics never had a chance);
His partnership with several other noted leaders (he served as an aide-de-camp during peacetime).
* Brigadier Glasserstein (lacks initiative but takes orders well)
* General Moenshein (a very bright leader)
* Graf v. Ginnheim (a refugee from Frankszonian Imperialism)
* Commander of the Grenz: Oberst Taunjck (pronounced “tonic” ... is a great friend of V. Ginnheim)

The Britischerwurst

General Cooper (likes to keep things closed up)
Brigadier Juggers (Commands the 1/5th Dragoons)
General Mash (known for his sour disposition)
General Charles Coel (diplomatic and known for smoothing things out ....)

Intelligence services lead by the Margravaine Inebria

Le Affair Dishabille

2010-01-28T13:16:00.000-08:00

Le Affair Dishabille

SUMMONS!?!
Summons ME?!?
Merde! That @#&*’! Insignificant, flatulent petty princeling!!!
Summons Me!!
The rest of the thoughts of the Baron Bastille are untranslatable, gutter French as he storms up the stairs of a country inn in Hesse Seewald. His aides and l’Comte d’Beauphaup try to remonstrate with him as he storms towards a door slightly more ornate than others in the hall.
Hesse Seewald manages to barely, BARELY, repulse us at their own gates, and this (lost in translation) cleaner of foul orifices DARES to SUMMON me! the Baron rages internally. He bursts through the door.
For a moment of a shattered microsecond, the Baron sees a large room. On one table, there is a steaming samovar and the rich odor of fresh coffee fills the room. Just beyond it, a tall uniform is talking with some rumpled evening clothes. Then time slams on its brakes.
Four large pistol muzzles facing him do not frighten the Baron, but the huge jump in his anger litterally freezes him incoherent on the spot. Indeed, he barely notices the impact of his aides who chase blindly after him.
Before the Baron can find his voice again, the guns are lowered and the dressing coat admonishes, “Have a care, m’Lord Baron! The danger is great and the threat is close upon us!”

to be continued ...

The probable site of the collision ....

2010-01-26T18:01:00.000-08:00

On examining various historical maps for the hysteria of the forth coming battle, I’ve guessed that our “Oldenburg” is not the historic duchy way up on the Baltic or North Sea, but rather the once thriving town of Obernburg ... which is now a neighborhood of Gross Umstadt.
Glancing at a more modern map, and the satellite pictures of its neighborhood reveal that it would have made an excellent blocking position for forces coming out of the OdenWald.

From Ohlbachcerhof up to Klein Umstadt, and further north to Kleestadt ... it looks to me that the likely position would be the flat lands passing north of the high hills and defiles of the OdenWald and perhaps strike right at Sonnenhauf ... where I think Hottatrot will deploy to meet der Alte Kroak .....

Interestingly, this is near TippleBruder, and the FrangiPani Hussars who are with Hottatrot are quite familiar with the ground ....

:)

That Commander of the Coalition farces ...

2010-01-26T16:59:00.000-08:00

Lt. General “Der Alte” Kroak (who moans that the great old troops are nevermore)
Has been hired on basis of his glittering resume (gilt paper costs a lot.).
The resume lists the following:
his outstanding achievements in training infantry (he sponsored a good drill team);
His successful governorship of Fort Kleine Bubbles at Glashaus (little bubbles in the glass ... what actually happened was his fastidious obsession with appearance caused the fort to be so clean that local epidemics never had a chance);
His partnership with several other noted leaders (he served as an aide-de-camp during peacetime).

wonderful flags

2010-01-25T20:43:00.000-08:00

While I took the easy route and use a picture of Vaubaun for my blog picture, I've noticed some really involved and lovely creative flags and heraldry on other blogs.
I hadn't really paid that much attention before, but Jim (is that double o 6?) who is one of those nice guys who actually pays attention to my blather, has a really nice one. It caught my eye when I was checking up on the situation in Beerstein today.
Alas, I can't remember which country he creates (though I'm positive I've a link to it under the "numinous nations" side bar!).
It caused me to think, how do these guys go about constructing their flags and where do they steal their .... uh, where do they get their inspiration?
I wouldn't mind hearing from a few of you about yours!!!
Regard,
Arthur

Watch this spot!

2010-01-25T20:38:00.000-08:00

I've begun pulling out materials for the SemiColon Farce which Hottatrot will soon be facing.
Unfortunately, as you know, my wife and I love to generate characters for the commanders and sort of role play them during a game ... and it appears that the Coalition Commander is a mercenary whose riding on his own hype (and frankly is too busy chasing skirts to keep track of where his units really are).
Since the Coalition should have excellent intelligence about the various Baronial forces, the rolls indicate that this thrust is intended as an easy snatch while the force under General Linneblat (spelling, one of my cats keep crawling up into my arms) are tied up down south ...
How little do they know ... even though they have at least two battalions of Grenz, these guys aren't ready for Jay's Jaegers in the hills outside of Oldenburg!
:)
A

The SemiColon Farces

2010-01-17T13:37:00.000-08:00

Given that I've inveggled an invitation to play a proxy game with my farces near Oldendburg in the Alesgarden affair, I figured I'd have to think up the enemy. Now the Kingdom of Beerstein sees all the leaders of the Colon armies as brand name whiskeys, it seems. These days, the wife and I drink very, very little, so instead of brand names, I've focused on associated terms ...
:)

Coalition of Colon
Analyzed under the affluence of inkohol ....

The Semi Colon Army Command

Frankly Phonies

Major General d’Styll (a steamy character)
Brigadier Passout (very unperturbable)
l’Comte Bourbons (ostentatious but smooth)
Brigadier Brandett (pronounced “Brandy” of course, can sneak up on you)

Die Deutsche Marks

Lt. General “Der Alte” Kroak (who moans that the great old troops are nevermore)
Brigadier Glasserstein (lacks initiative but takes orders well)
General Moenshein (a very bright leader)
Graf v. Ginnheim (a refugee from Frankszonian Imperialism)

The Britischerwurst

General Cooper (likes to keep things closed up)
Brigadier Juggers (Commands the 1/5th Dragoons)
General Mash (known for his sour disposition)
General Charles Coel (diplomatic and known for smoothing things out ....)

Commander of the Grenz: Oberst Taunjck (pronounced “tonic” ... is a great friend of V. Ginnheim)

Intelligence services lead by the Margravaine Inebria

Honors

2010-01-15T21:32:00.000-08:00

My characters have been granted several nice honors by various other guys in the Emperor vs. Elector crowd.
Most of the guys who are given these happily post those honors on their blog, but I'm not sure how I can do this yet ...
I'll try to find out this week!
:)
Arthur

Farces in the Field

2010-01-15T21:01:00.000-08:00

Beerstein is engaged in a major struggle over the province of Alesgarden.
By happenstance, Frankszonia got drawn into the struggle. As we're old friends of Beerstein (as such things go in the Empire vs. Elector blog), we're obviously concentrating our southern forces (which had just had to handle a mutiny and another zombie incursion ... apparently instigated in part by Beerstein's foe as well as Stagonia) to their assistance.
Three regiments of Cavalry, eleven battalions or so of infantry, and a few guns ...

Force Commander:
* Francios l'Marquise de Hottatrot: (1 = meaning above average but not brilliant ... Hottatrot has proven that he is brave and a dynamic leader and able to function even if wounded) Lewd, plain looking but not fat; a gourmet but flatulent. Maintains a couple of ballerinas and is very keen on dance. Devil may care, reckless, audacious, etc cavalry man (though he has won his accolades with an infantry regiment he raised). Secretly fond of Rhine Wines.
Awarded the Grilled Frankfurter for his aggressive initiative and fight even though seriously wounded at the Battle of Bad Tannes ... now an initiative +1
Another tragic family secret is connected to some rumors:
a: he was born before his parents were married;
b: perhaps his real parents never did marry;
c: but his legal mom and dad dote on each other and are quite sensitive so he can't openly
research the problem ...
d: rumor also has it that his dandified legal father is more fond of young boys than girls ...
Hottatrot is also rumored to be involved with Frankszonian under the covers organs ...

Cavalry
* Brig. Shlidelisht: (1) An erratic cavalry genius.

* The Cellulite Cursers ... Cuirassiers; 2 x 14 figs (7) (a heavy cavalry brigade, white with blue
cuffs, etc., silver Cuirass (These are veteran fighters, the numbers meaning that there are two “regiments” of approximately 700 swords each)
* Frangipani Hussars 15 @ (7) Light cavalry, but very professional. They frequently are the quick reaction force in Frankszonia (and based on an historical Bravarian and then Austrian unit).
These Hussars are also frequently deployed as an “independent” force.

Infantry
* M. Gen. General Schwann (2+ Meaning very, very good) ( a driving and romantic personality, very concerned with mobility .... his units would get the Prussian double action bonus);

Brigade BallPark
* The Baron von Ballpark (0) (a beefy fellow whom rumor has linked with the infamous Pigg
in a Blanket scandal)

(Infantry regts. = # of battalions (morale rating) and list strength (600 men for these units)

* IR Phutyl Fusils 2 x (4) x 12 (These are largely Frankszonian nationals. They are “trained” but are usually kept out of the major actions in order to watch the units which are more heavily recruited abroad)
* IR Foot Longs, 2 bats @ 12 , (5) (Black with yellow turnbacks, ?small clothes, yellow lace)
These are veterans, and possibly the most experienced unit in the Frankszonian army. They are noted for their endurance and usually pass morale checks while in action.

Brigade Rosenschnauz (brevet Brigadier)
* Oberst Rosenschnauz: (0) heavy (as in 300 lb) drinker. (He got his start as a staff officer under Gen. Ballpark. While he has performed adequately and bravely, rumor has it that his promotion is due more to his wife’s .... ah ... dedication than his own. This is intended to be his big chance to prove himself).

* IR Hottatrot 2 x (5) x 12; (Battle Honors for Bad Tannes)
Veterans, professionals, and proud of their achievements and of the ... ah ... achievements of their Inhaber ...
* IR Grinderdiers, 2 bats @ 12 figs, rate (6)
Veterans, a standing regiment of Grenadiers. They are used both as a prestige unit and as a sort of “fire brigade.” As such, the majority of the rank and file are proven but foreign men.

Independent Units:
* Jay’s Jaegers 1 x (6) x 12 Rifle armed, but very sneaky. These are proven poachers ...
* 1 battery of 12 lbr cannon
* 2 batteries of “light” cannon (4 to 6 lbrs.)
* 1 Battery of howitzers

Ingredients added to the stew ...

2010-01-06T20:57:00.000-08:00

Events Speeding Up?

Scene I: In the Tannes Mountains near Ausfhart:

Inside the hut, the other woman picks up a sewing basket and starts stitching on some cloth while the men argue about possible routes from the various Resistance camps onto the Frankfurter plan. The forces covering Russelheim are clearly a threat in the field. Should they be bypassed or struck first. Hans argues that the over all strength of Frankszonia must be conserved, and a mere demonstration might keep them in place long enough for depot strike to succeed. Lord Bleah disagrees as his Cheezer forces will have to march past the Frankszonian posts to join in the strike and on their withdrawal.
“Not if you come through this valley and turn towards Hesse Fedora,” Rausen Mariah responded. “The Alte Vater will keep the men in this pass out of the action either way.”
“A friendly neutral?” Emil wonders.
“Nein, Miene Herr,” the unamed man responds. “Even more than the Hurtshog, the Alte Vater has no desire to see Fhartzen hurt in strangers’ quarrels.”
“And,” the seamstress intrudes, “the gold that the Crown of the Britscherwurst will contribute to ameliorate the damage caused by the passing armies will be a great incentive to behave.”
“I thought so!” Emil exclaimed. “We were sure that this invitation would be a request for subsidies for your Resistance forces. Good, we’re prepared to offer ...”
“Nein! Nein!” almost all of the Frankszonians exclaim. “The funds really will be directed to the restoration of the old family seat and for the family reunion.”
Bleah and Emil exchange disbelieving but puzzled glances.
“Germania and the OysterReich are struggling to dominate Deutschland,” the nameless man begins to explain. “The Fhartzen favor the OysterReich and the Merry Teaser, but there are much greater issues which this struggle will pull into the fire.”
“Already, Russian Cossacks and Swedish pirates are moving into Poland,” the seamstress continues, “and the Porte is mobilizing forces. Whether the Trucks go after the Carzina or the Merry Teaser is really a moot point right now. The Merry Teaser will be forced to divert the Hungryones away from Germania and Hesse Seewald.”
“I hardly see how that would motivate we Britischerwurst to worry,” Emil complained.
“Where do you think the armies to hold Bohemia and Prague will come from then?” Rausen Mariah snapped. “The Gallians have already intervened there twice. Do you want a de facto Gallian province to appear all along your southern border?”
“So, you want our help to strike the Frankfurter depot,” Lord Bleah nods.
“And our money and perhaps a little activity to give you a place to run too,” Emil concludes.
“And confusion to the Gallians!” the nameless man exclaims.

Scene 2: a suite in a quality hotel in Frankfurter:

A merchant stands by a table on which he is examining several very fancifully dressed dolls. A valet enters and says, “A person to see you, Meine Herr.”
“A person?”
“I cannot rightly call him a gentleman, Meine Herr.”
“Oh, very well, but give me enough time to put these away first.”
“Sehr gut, meine Herr.” The Valet leaves, and the merchant swiftly places the large dolls in a well padded trunk and locks it. After a minute, a dirty, stinking, ragged relic shambles into the room.
“Teuffel!” the merchant exclaims. “Don’t sit down on these fancy chairs! You’d double the rates we have to pay for this dump. By Wotan’s blind eye, what have you gotten into?”
“Und eine Guten Abend to you, Graf Putzenhoel,” the human wreck responds with a surprisingly well inflected baritone. “You wouldn’t happen to have anything “vile” to drink around would you?”
“Nor to smoke,” the Graf grunts. “You know I have to smuggle these play pretties past the Germanian outposts. Getting caught with them would be expensive enough!”
“Ah yes, the Parisan fashion doll gimmick again?”
“Jah. They provide a nice introduction to Mistress Ewewarp and some of M’Lady’s entourage.”
(For the incognosci, they used to make big dolls with the latest Paris fashions and ship them around Germany so that the local ladies could copy the outfits ... the more anti-French potentates always tried to prevent this).
“Mistress Ewewarp? I know you’re a lecher, but fat old ladies are hardly my cup of tea,” the tramp laughs.
“You’ve not been in the service long, have you, Gummibaher?”
“Just since I made the mistake of playing with that vixen from the Baltic.”
“Playing?” Putzenhoel laughs. “The way I heard it, it was more like being eaten alive.”
“It was okay until one of the king’s girls came in without knocking,” Gummibaher grinned.
“Ha! Was gibts?”
“First of all, as you probably already known, Frau Ewewarp is absent from the city.”
“Humph!”
“And a carriage from the Margravate of Raubenstein has been recieved at the palace.”
“Raubenstein?”
“Jah, und there is a strange cavalry officer in their entourage.”
“The Kerns! Have they asked any questions yet?”
“Nein, but I’ve never heard of the officer before some affair in the Balkans last year.”
“Well, well,” Putzenhoel muses. “I may have to delay my urgent trip to the Bar Line for a bit ...”

Scene Three: A country inn somewhere in Hesse Seewald ....

M/Lord Bastille steps out of the common room into the courtyard and lights a pipe. He looks up at the clouds and the light snow falling with a smirk. He had that scheming petty Frankszonian Duke wrapped up nice and tight and away from making any trouble! His pleasant reveries are interrupted when a tipsy teamster bumps into the shrubbery and shakes some snow onto Bastille’s fine coat.
“Be careful, man!” the Intendant complains.
“Your pardon, m’Lord,” the teamster apologizes. “I seem to be a little dizzy,” he laughs and turns to look up into Bastille’s face.
“Mon Dieu!” Bastille swivels around quickly to be sure no one is watching. “What are you doing here, Master Peter?”
“Working overtime,” Peter answers. “This is a tough gig when all the apprentices and journeymen suddenly leave town.”
“Eh?”
“And I asked for charity from the Anglericans, but they’ve suddenly gone to all short form services and are buttoned up for the cold.”
“Ah,” Bastille nods knowingly, “So the Germanian tyrant is finally playing the religion card.”
“Perhaps,” Peter nodded, “but one of the Frankszonian generals who deserted to Germania was seen talking with Mistress Ewewarp, and she’s missing now too.”
“What is that silly Boche doing now?” Bastille was beginning to get irritated.
“Possibly nothing,” Peter responded. The Intendent waved that off angrily, but Peter pressed on, “the only dispatch rider I saw was coming here, and I’ve not spotted much traffic back to Frankfurter other than wounded and prisoners.”
“Wounded and prisoners?” Bastille’s eyebrows merged with his feathery hat. “Just how many wounded and prisoners and in what size groups?”

Scene Four: A chilly vault under the Frankfurter Cathedral:

A Cathedral Cannon is carefully sorting candles when another priest enters the room.
“Monsignor Virtu!” the Cannon greets him cheerfully, “What brings you here?”
“We need to get the lay brothers together,” the visitor responds with a heavy Italian accent.
The Cannon crosses himself anxiously. “Are you sure? They can be hard to control and can cause some terrible trouble when they’re set loose.”
The Italian is silent for a moment, casting a grave look outside the room. He returns to the Cannon and whispers in his ear, “The Apostate Prince Returns.”

Scene Five: A comfortable suite in a country inn in Hesse Seewald.

The Hurtshog and Beauphaup play chess beside a cheerful fire while General Hottatrot watches the snow fall outside.
“Close that window!” the Hurtshog cheerily orders the General. “Do you want to give your sovereign pneumonia?”
“Not really,” the general responds. “I just thought I heard the sign of a Frankszonian Ritter.”
The chess players both look at him and fall quiet. Outside, the steady clump of heavy boots rapidly approaches the door. At the knock, Hottatrot challenges, “Who goes there?”
“Hauptman MooseHunter, mein Herr.”
The chess players quickly rise while Hottatrot hustles the officer into the room swiftly.
“What’s happening?” the Hurtshog demands bruskly.
“Rose Marie has another crazy scheme going, Sir,” the copper skinned giant responded. “And with most of our reliable forces out of town and going in different directions, this could prove very embarrassing.”
“Does the Intendant know yet?”
“I passed one of his agents just outside of town, and stalled long enough to let him go in ahead of me.”
“Good.”
“But ...”
“Well?”
“Roquefort has gone to ground, Sir,” the Indian said. “We’ve lost track of him.”
“Perhaps the Gallian court has finally decided to reign him in,” Beauphaup suggested.
“They have, but he appears to have skipped even before his assassination scheme went sour,” Moosehunter cautioned.
“And we saw some Cheezer officers posing as wounded being “taken” south after the battle,” Hottatrot noted.
The Hurtshog made an abrupt gesture and walked to the window. He opens it and watches the snow for a minute. “Comte Beauphaup.” he said.
“Oui, your Highness?”
“Please find m’Lord Bastille. Inform him that he is summoned to an immediate conference with the Hurtshog Fhartz von Frankfurter.”
The other men stiffen at the tone and the word “summoned.”
“At once, your Highness,” Beauphaup responds and leaves.

Kurmudgeon Krieg, part 1 of many to come ....

2010-01-06T18:53:00.000-08:00

Critiques of Koenig Krieg, version 3, 1st edition.

First of all, it is important to note that I am very fond of this game. Version 3 has introduced many ideas, some of which were to clarify the original rules, some of which were made to distinguish between their primary period and Napoleonics, and some of which were created in order to expand the scope of the rules from a purely European theater to the whole world in which Lace Armies were engaged. Thus, a K.K. player can now game Turks versus Persians and Indonesians versus Dutch and so forth.

Again, I like these rules and will cheerfully play them as written with other gamers.
However ...
Very often I have problems with particular sections and passages. The one which amused me the most was the reference to Frederick in which he “arrested” the Silesians when he overran those provinces (I wonder if this was the inspiration for concentration camps? LOL). .
In my pompous opinion, quite a few of these new rules introduced unnecessary complications and moved away from the pristine simplicity of the original.
Secondarily, the guys who put this set together were Australians and sometimes unaware of how their wording would read to Americans.
Thirdly, as a former teacher of English, there are several passages which cause me to cringe.

Indeed, my very first critique will be a grammatical note. In the second paragraph on page three, they wrote “There are .... army lists, a.... battle points system (BPS) for determining the winner of battles and you can now play tournaments.”
First of all, the predicate here is a series, but the series is not done correctly. The first two points are noun phrases and the last is an independent clause. Secondarily, I follow the newer rule in which ALL equivalent items in a series are separated by commas. Hence, “.... winner of battles, and provision for tournament play.” would be one possible (there are several others) correction.
Now things may be done differently still in Australia, so I’ll only comment on the first few and afterwards ignore in this critique ...

Page 4: Series ... should be “Front, Rear, and Flank Zones” Other wise “Rear and Flank” are one item which together are parallel to “Front.”

Page 5:
* One could add a comment that this game is very, very easily adapted to the Marlborough era (War of Spanish Succession) and also with a few amendments to Napoleonic warfare.
* Under “A Battlefield” the idea that the battles were fought in wide open areas primarily applies to Eastern Front engagements ... and ignores the very cluttered nature of conflict along the Rhine, in the Low Countries, and even in the Alpine regions.

Page 6:
* Scale – one inch equals 150 to 200 YARDS??? So you’ve got the smoothbore musket engaging at half a kilometer away??? No, it should be FEET!!

* Basing – I found the statement that basing was “slightly exaggerated” to be an amusing understatement.
* I noticed that Skirmish infantry had bases of half depth ... as I’ve found this to be unstable, I hope you all don’t mind if I stick with the old system.
* Camels and elephants have the same size bases?? How small are the Elephants? LOL
* IMPO: Tribal and Brave basing is an unnecessary complication.
* Commander Basing, is the width given the SIDE of the base or its DIAMETER FROM SIDE TO SIDE???

Page 7: Second column, second paragraph. Insert comma between “...as laid out” and “but all players ...”

Page 8:
* Turn represents “up to half an hour” ??? I thought the default was 15 minutes??
* Rounds – “includes” does not agree with subject, should be “include”.
* Segments — “e.g.” should be followed by a colon “:”. “... action segment (comma) and morale ..”
* Command and Control: — “rallying” and “replacing” are gerunds. “Identify” is not. (And the missing comma ... I know: that is old rule if you all decide to keep it that way).

Page 10:
I’ll need to redo my generals ... but I do have one command base which is two infantry figures ...
I’ll have to rebase them all anyway (sigh).
But ...
* is there any unit which does NOT automatically rally??
* WHY are Army Generals replaced right away while lower formations take three turns???

Page 11:
Are there minimum / maximum sizes for Brigade commanders?

Page 12:
When Army General is attached ... is “-1" check across the board as if dead ... or is that “-1" from the Army General’s rating?

Page 13:
(Close Combat) Initiative: Do the players activate by UNIT or by FORMATION (the book says “formation” ... and I though close combat was by unit?)

Page 14: Note that the “fall back” of a cavalry unit failing to break the bayonets is now 2 inches and not to the start position (of old rules). Yes, I know, cavalry could charge from 2 inches, but it could also charge from one inch, right??

Mountain Dew (the plot thickens)

2009-12-30T18:01:00.000-08:00

A get - together Scramble: part two

A few people came out of the house, but they did not come to greet the hikers. Instead, the girl placed her and on Emil’s sleeve, gave him a serious look and said, formally, “Welcome, von Reisling, to one of Frankszonia’s most sacred secrets, The Bock Spring.”
The people from the cottage doffed their hats, and as Emil followed suit, he saw that Hans had grounded his rifle in a veteran’s stance of attention. “Honored, I’m sure,” Emil said, “but why is it so sacred?”
“From here, Frankszonia arose,” the girl responded.
“Ja,” Hans continued. “Once, long ago, when the Electors came to crown a new Emperor, the best beer in the world was brewed from this water. The brewmaster Fhartz sent an entire wagon to them.”
“From that time,” one of the men from the cottage noted, “we Fhartzen have been enobled.”
“We Fhartzen?!?” Emil and one of the strangers exclaimed together. Even as they snatched for their pistols, however, the others reassured them.
“Do not fear, mein Herren,” the first speaker chuckled. “We are truly of the Resistance.”
“The dream of truly free Freistadt derived from the Imperial Receipt is not confined to just .my uncle,” the girl assured them.
“Your uncle?”
“The Hurtshog Stanken Fhartz zu Frankfurter,” she replied impishly.
“Ja,” chuckled Hans, “Our Rausen Marie, the Rose of the Resistance, is a Granddaughter of der Alte Hurtshog.”
“But,” Emil protested, “I know that his agents communicate regularly with the Gallians, and in spite of the hassles he’s caused other Gallian allies, he has provided troops and fought himself to protect Gallian supply routes.”
“The Hurtshog favors the Merry Teaser,” the speaker responded. “As long as there’s no hope of a Germanian nor an Imperial rescue, there’s no point in sacrificing Frankszonians.”
“Besides,” a lady smirked, “the Gallian depot is the best source of Gallian wines.”
“So, the Hurtshog pretends alliance to plunder the Frogs?” Emil asked.
“No, no,” the speaker grinned. “We replace the Gallian kegs with good Rhine wines, locally grown and legally paid for!”
“Of course,” Rose Marie laughs, “we’re careful that the gentlemen who drink their own estates vintages will get their own stuff.”
“Then the Resistance is a sham!” the other stranger shouted angrily.
“Hardly,” the speaker responded soberly, “and that’s why this meeting is necessary.”
“Most of our people hate an alliance with the Catholics,” the other woman said. “And most of the nobles resent the Gallian presence visciously. Now that the imbecile Bastille has removed the Hurtshog, they’re getting ready to act.”
“Without Stanken, we doubt that Broderick Woad will commit his men to the field,” the speaker continued, “and without Hottatrot, a lot of the Frankfurters will drag their heels in fighting their own cousins. We won’t be able to take Frankfurter, nor would we have nearly enough people to actually capture the depot.”
“But we can probably burn a lot of it,” Rose Marie eagerly suggested, “and we can drive the Gallian lapdogs back into their master’s boudior!”
“Then the Gallians would be forced to pull back from Hesse Seewald,” the other stranger realized.
“And then,” Hans contributed, “the Resistance will need a clear path to run!”
“And that,” the speaker continued, “is where you two come in. The Mayor of Ausfhart needs to know that you can clear a quick route out of the valley into Hesse Fedora or even further north.”
“And what,” the other stranger asked, “is the Mayor’s role in this?”
“My Lord Bleah,” the speaker replied, “Stanken may be Hurtshog, but the real head of the family is always the Lord Mayor. Surely you Cheezers knew that!”
“I doubt,” Emil responded, “that our Britischerwurst can get any real strength this far behind enemy lines. Why even involve us?”
“Because Stagonia and the Kerns are about to relaunch their feud on our turf,” the other woman responded. “Neither the Alte Vater nor the Hurtshog care to risk the fall out taking out too many of our cousins. This is a rather pretty dance we’re trying to make here.”
“This stinks worse than Frog Cheese,” Lord Bleah complained. “The Frankszonians would still put nearly 15,000 men into the field if you tried to concentrate for a real strike.”
“Hardly, they’ve got nearly 4000 already committed to the Altenburg affair,” the speaker commented.
“And our agents don’t report to General Mayer,” the other woman continued. “They won’t have time to get their full strength into the field, even if they knew what was going to happen by tonight! Stagonia has some usefulness, it seems.”
“So,” Emil asks, “what is going to happen?”
“These are mountains, Captain,” the speaker responded. “They hide a lot, and city troops won’t be trying to patrol them when a hard freeze hits.”
“And the morning after,” Rose Marie exulted, “my beautiful bronze guns and their friends will be skating across the fields!”
“There is a big risk in that,” Emil cautioned, “Your heat, my lady, just might melt those fields and freeze the guns!”
She laughs as the men turn back to the cottage to begin more detailed planning.

A Get-together: A scramble in the woods

2009-12-29T12:54:00.000-08:00

A get - together Scramble

The pearl grey mist swirls about vague, pre-dawn shadows like rope curtains. On the tree dark slopes, two indistinct lumps slip across wet, black stones and stumble, muttering, over gnarled roots.
“Ha! Poachers!” storms out above them, and they jerk to an awkward halt.
“Not poachers,” protests one figure, “but protectors!”
“Ja, ja,” their captor sneers, “und you vill the little birdies from der Hurtshog’s kitchen protect, eh? Nein, Nein!”
“Nein, Feldwebel,” the other captive answers with a girl’s musical voice. “We keep therm from turning into Frogs!”
“Ach, meine kleine Blumen,” the large figure of a jaeger sergeant steps down among the black pillars and dripping branches. “We did not if you for sure were coming know. Welcome to our Ausfhart Wald und valley.”
“Hans, Hans,” the girl chides him and gives him a quick hug. “I have your hunts always enjoyed.”
“Ja, und we have your style of hunting always loved,” the big man chuckles. “Wo ist?”
He gestures to the other figure whose shoes were slipping off the rocks.
“Emil,” the girl responds gaily, “stop slipping away and come meet Hans Baher.”
Hans catches Emil a second from disaster and leans the smaller man into a tree.
“These boots,” Emil complains, “are too stiff for this work. Our little plotter here won’t let me just ride in!”
The sergeant grunts cheerfully, “only a dwarf on his mine pony could where we’re going ride anyway.”
“Where are we going then?” Emil asks.
“Come!” Hans moves across the slope, leaving a billowing wake in the fog. Emil and the girl stumble along behind him onto a narrow path which cuts across a cliff hidden by tall firs.
“Careful, meine Herr,” Hans cautions, as he leads them on a narrow goat path across the face of a cliff. “It can get slippery.”
Emil clutched the cliff face on his right as he wobbled through the fog. “Where will we meet the others,’ he asks after one slip sends a small rock bounding down among the firs.
Hans and Rausen Marie steadied him. “Already there, Mein Herr,” Hans reassured him. “Achtung! Be careful,” Hans continued and then seemed to vanish into the cliff!
Emil came to a startled stop, and the girl blundered into him. For a moment they tottered and swayed together, clutching each other, tree branches, and random loose rocks. The little tussle ended with a loud slap and a muttered apology. Their little stumble, however, had moved them far enough for Emil to see into the mall gorge which cut into the cliff. Of course the path turned suddenly into the gorge a few yards above the boulders over which a mountain stream splashed.
“First,” Emil mockingly grumbled, “you try to break my legs. Now you want me to break my neck and to ruin my boots?”
He was rewarded with a brief giggle.
Though the rocks were wet and mossy, they weren’t slimy. Emil was quietly grateful for that. Then after a few yards, the gorge twisted, and the crack climbed swiftly. The three stepped out onto a clear terrace. A few goats nibbled at bunches of grasses on the glade. The stream flowed from beneath a dilapidated cottage leaning against the upper cliff face. Emil’s companions removed their hats and nodded respectfully towards the cottage. “We’re here,” the girl said.

At last, the camera is found!

2009-12-20T15:21:00.000-08:00

My has a beloved Pentax which was rigged for close ups with special mounts and tripod ... it disappeared last spring, which removed a lot of the oomph for my postings.
I've played several interesting games, but with no photos didn't feel like posting them.
Today, after a major excavation (not kidding, it took her hours of heavy effort; and I was unable to help); she reports she has finally found it.
Looking forward to a much more active time next year!
Perhaps I can persuade her to shoot some of the figures I'd painted this fall ...
which would make me feel more like a participant in our grand enterprise.
:)
A

Saluting

2009-11-13T17:38:00.000-08:00

My confuser was down for a couple of days, so I missed posting my own salutes to the honored folks who had served before, with, and after me.
My grandfathers, of course, both served in W.W.I.
Grandad Carnes came back so committed to pacifism that he would not defend himself when a bully attacked him.
Grandad Pigg was much more enamored of his adventures as a Navy man ... even though he spent three days swimming the North Sea when his ship was torpedoed.
My step-Grandad Clifton Talbert was in the trenches ... and he would talk about it on occasion and kept his VFW magazines all his life.

For myself, however, I was recently extended an honor which I don't really deserve. The American Legion (for whom I hold good feelings because they didn't discriminate against my Viet Nam friends like the VFW did back then) informed me that I was now defined as a combat era vet. Unfortunately, I don't feel like I deserve it all. It's a long story, but I never served a single day under fire or even out of the country.

Now that I am legally part of the gang whom I always honored, however, I feel ever more keenly the struggle for them to be treated properly by we stay-at-homes who never made the horrendous sacrifices still being demanded of all troops of free countries. I've been under fire during some violent strike settings, and it always amazed me that these men functioned, survived, and came home after enduring endless days of a thousand times more intense struggles. Yes, a few of them came back quite damaged in their spirit, but most came back to be folks who existed at what I felt was a higher level than mine. Who had day after day put all their dreams and all their selves on the line, often for things they didn't really understand.
Great history, to me, is actually the art, the music, the food, the discoveries, and so forth of a time; but I am cognizant of the overwhelming fact that none of that would survive or even be possible without the good soldier and the stained knight.
Which, in part, is why I wargame.

My games are often funny, always trivial, and the worst wounds occur when I'm trimming the flash off of a new figure. But in the background, it's a way to honor the real heroes. Not the great conquerors, most of whom could rightly be seen as monsters even when as benign as the Persians; but the young officer bravely holding the flag staff in a square at Waterloo thinking that he'd never heard of a battle where everybody died ... as it seemed was happening all around him then.

Nor do I forget the fellows who fought on the other side. It is popular today to hate the German soldier, but ninety percent of them had real reason given their limited knowledge (deliberately limited by their rulers, just as occurs today in dictatorial or fanatical regimes)to believe their cause was just. Even if they did not, they still felt the need to stand for their country against war's destruction.
So the guys who marched so far barefoot under Jackson or struggled across the sand for Rommel I honor too.

We may never be free of the horrors of war until the Parousia, but until then, I honor the good folks, now boys and girls, who willingly march into hell for me or for their own families.

Sincerely,
Arthur

Alarms and Excursions

2009-10-11T18:50:00.001-07:00

First, PLEASE, PLEASE, go to Bill's excellent post:
http://campaignsingermania.blogspot.com/2009/10/cheer-boys-cheer-parade-and-surprises.html
In which Bastille manages to snag the Hurtshog, L'Comte d'Beauphaup, and the Marquis d'Hottatrot into the advance of the Gallian Army under General Cheveret ...

Then ,,, rumors abound ...

Amidst the roar and infernal smoke and total confusion of a great battle, The Frankszonian "guests" of Baron Bastille notice a slathered horse being led to the party.
A young Gallian dragoon hands an attache case to the Baron, who looks at a couple of the papers inside, and then quickly wheels his horse towards the rear shouting for an aide.
The messenger remonstrates, pointing to the Hurtshog animatedly, but Bastille brusquely orders the lad away!
L'Comte d'Beauphaup quickly overtakes the rider and inquires, "What news from Frankfurter, M'seur?"
"There seems to be a mutiny among the Frankszonian forces in their southern Stadt Wald, m'Lord," the lad replies, excitedly. "A supply train from Wittenberg was taken, and one of St. Maurice's patrols were ambushed! Several regiments seem involved, and they've got the support of the peasants in the forest!"
After sharing the shock and excitement (and a draft of cordial) with the lad, the count hurries back to the Hurtshog. To their pressing inquiries, he replies, "that foolish Gallian will be buying more of our seltzer and bizmuth, my lords." Then he adds, grimly, "It seems that the inevitable consequences of removing the Hurtshog from such an unstable stew as Frankfurter are already boiling over."

And updates

2009-10-06T23:15:00.000-07:00

First of all, the big news is that the Hesse Seewald which was in position to liber ... ah, besiege Frankfurter has fallen back through the Fulda Gap in response to the Allied victory at Minden ... as I write, news of a great collision near the capital of Hesse Seewald, Gotha, is just beginning to arrive (see "Campaigns in Germania).

Of course, the Resistance continues its forlorn struggle (I've fourteen pages of rough draft to bang into the confuser), and the search for the wife's good close up camera also continues ... Amazing what two cats can accomplish in a single night in one room ...

:)
Arthur

Thn Von Kerns Are Coming!!!

2009-10-06T23:12:00.000-07:00

Once again, the creator of Erwin v. Mack is participating in the story line, I happily copied this post from HIS blog ...
:)

The Von Kerns Are Coming!

http://raubenstadt.blogspot.com/

Erwin von Mack was grateful that the trip from Raubenstadt to Frankzonia had been without incident. The Markgrafin of Raubenstadt, Sharon von Meltzer was traveling to Frankzonia to visit the ruling family, the von Fhartz, and help them celebrate the completed renovation of one of their many estates. Of course, the presence of a platoon of the Markgrafin's Own Guard Musketeers, with their glittering bayonets, and a squadron of the Markgrafin's Own Lancers, with their twinkling lance heads, probably had something to do with the uneventfulness of the journey. It would have indeed been a bold band of highwaymen to even consider hindering the carriage and it's escort.

"If I keep showing up here, they're going to name the road after me.", he thought sourly to himself.

He was not surprised to see his counterpart, von Badmann waiting by the entry portal, as he rode up to the gate. Von Badmann raised his right hand and spurred his horse forward.

"What?! No wandering yodelling instructor cover this time?", referring to their first encounter years ago. "You know, old friend, that we'll have to name the road after you, if you keep popping up!", he said after shaking hands.

"Well...at least I could yodel, unlike those God awful clocks you were trying to foist off as your own work. Besides, I had no choice in the matter this time.", he grunted, and jerked his thumb over his right shoulder towards the carriage. "The Markgrafin and her brothers have come to call."

"Her brothers?!", Badmann's tone and right eyebrow rose.

"Only two of them.", von Mack dryly replied, enjoying his friend's discomfort.

"THREE von Kerns?!!" His left eyebrow joined the right in a mighty effort to reach the hairline.

"Technically only two. The Margrafin herself, her brother David, the commander of her personal Guard Musketeers, and her other brother Paul, the commander of her Guard Lancers. You see, Paul has given up the family name. So...he'll thank you to call him what he goes by these days: Colonel Somerussian Guyovich."

"And he thinks that that is enough of a fig leaf to hide behind?", Badmann inquired.

"He has great faith in the new name, the cossack scalplock, the moustache, his troopers, that he has spent enough time in the Cossack Stiech for everyone to have forgotten why he left, and if all else fails, that weighted Hungarian saber he favors."

Von Mack laughed as he turned his horse around and started to canter back to the carriage.

"I've seen him hack through a fencepost, in one stroke, at a full gallop with that cleaver!"

"We'll talk later!", Badmann called after him, then slumped back in his saddle.

As von Mack neared the carriage, he heard the clink of tumblers and a flask, as the Markgrafin said, "To old scores."

"And their settling!", David replied.

"In a painful manner!!", Somerussian Guyovich chimed in.

The Battle of Nichtschlaftenstein

2009-09-19T23:08:00.000-07:00

While the plotting and excitement continues to rise over the forthcoming family reunion, news arrives of a battle along the Nidda River in Frankszonia's northern reaches ....

The Battle of Nichtschlaftenstein

(Theoretically, this occurs somewhere in the Tannes Berg on the communications route between Hesse Fedora and the Hesse Seewald army threatening Frankfurter)

The first thing one needs to note about this battle and its long after the action report is that the whole thing was done when I was supposed to be asleep. Being an adult, I didn’t need to burn a flashlight under covers (which always resulted in too many figures being knocked over or out of place when I was a kid), but I did need to use reduced lighting so I wouldn’t wake up the wife. Similar considerations will show up elsewhere in this report, I’m sure (grin).
Anyway, I’d decided that my leg pains and toothache between them were going to prevent me from getting any sleep, so why not a little wargame? I grabbed a bit of green foam core (it had gotten bent, so the wife didn’t want it for an art project .... measured 18" by 28" or something ... and yes I measured, but remember I was very sleepy). Quick testing showed that I could prop this up as a level board on my beside table and a nearby clothes tub with the aid of a few books (around here, there’s ALWAYS a few books in reach :)). Obviously, then the game would have to be a small one. I considered using the Two Hour Wargames stuff, but the bag with the all important die roll charts was too far away (I would have to actually get up to get it). On the other hand, having spent a lot of time with the Koenig King rules lately (and no, I don’t have them memorized, I’m just a slow learner), I felt I could fudge something off of that system.
Now this presented me with a new problem. K.K is written for games using 15 or more units per side. Even in 15mm this would be too much. Moreover, my usual K.K. collection resided in the front room where our houseguest was supposedly also sleeping. Now I happen to have a stack of various little plastic armies in the bedroom ... but as they are based as if 25mm figures, they also would require a much larger playing field. So I decided to fudge it.
After washing down the last of the candy with my bedside water mug, I decided to do what I’ve often done before. Shift the focus from the brigade to the battalion. Koenig Krieg has an interesting initiative system in which the initiative swings back and forth throughout each turn. It has always generated a bit of surprise and excitement and even tension for me as a solo gamer. Normally, one rolls initiative to control the sequencing of brigades. Since I didn’t want to have that big an army, I would roll for the battalions instead. (Works fine if each side has less than 10 battalions to fool with).
Now the problem was how to fudge up the battalions ....
As many of you know, my wife and I are invalids. As a result, I’ve often been at the receiving end of the surprising generosity of wargamers. Very often, when I’d buy a batch of figures, they’d throw in a few bits of odds and ends ... one of this, two of that ... so forth. So I wound up with wound up with two, 8 figure battalions of green coated Freikorps (actually, they were supposed to be indians ... from arguably the worst every cast commercially figures – the old Giant of Hong Kong set, — indeed, most of the figures actually wearing tricorns on the board that night came from that set ... even though I’ve long, long ago lost 90% of them ... including all the Hessian grenadiers ). An “Allied composite battalion” (mish mash of Napoleonics, I think ... I gave them to the redcoats) of ten figures. A British Grenediers (very old Airfix, I think) of ten figures. Two British line battalions of 10 figures (actually Colonials, red coats, blue pants, white pith helmets). To command them, I pulled out the V. Ballpark figure (a British officer type for Nappys but mounted on a rocking horse).
Now I did have enough of those Giant tricorns to make three battalions of twelve figures each ... and some bicorn figures that made a nice 10 figure battalion. ... Also, enough loose, unassigned single figures to give the blues 4 officers (I decided to give the Freikorps to the Blues too, but to make their commander “unreliable” ... which meant he had to roll every turn to see if he did anything).. With all this I had a hundred figures on the little bit of foam core. I also dug out some “cannons” I’d made long ago from pipe cleaners (blues got one, red got two, of which I designated one as an howitzer). When I plopped two paper houses and an hedge line (which I was using to mark the edge of a “woods” ... I expected the board to chock full.
Surprise!
Not only did the board not fill up, I actually had space to consider some maneuvering.

So, emerges the Battle of NichtSchlaftenstein. In the west of the little flat space in the hills lies the tiny village. In the northeast lies the wooded rise of NichtSchlaftenberg ( I did mention that the foam core board was a little rumpled). A small and insignificant creek trickled down the middle (caught the mug before it fully spilled when one of the cats decided to jump onto the bed).
Our loyal Frankszonian forces (the blues under Brig. Nathan) march in from the northwest corner. The Britischerwurst (reds under Lord Ficksnore) from the southeast. Ficknsore is an experienced, creative, but rash leader who has a force of fairly elite men following him (good shots, close order drill, and a battalion of Grenadiers). Nathan, on the other hand, though an experienced officer, as are his subordinates, tends to be rather methodical in his approach. Surprisingly, however, the first initiative falls to Nathan who throws the Militia into the village. After this first bit of luck, however, Ficksnore’s brilliance seems to dominate as he moves his forces in a coordinated manner on board.
Ficksnore wants to draw the Frankszonians into the cross fire of his artillery, so he holds back the Red Line and starts the Grenadiers confidently to drive the militia out of the village and his allies to secure the wooded flank. Since Nathan has a battalion of lights (I held back the two figures lying down, as I intended to remake them into casualty markers anyway), he sends the light infantry into the woods to challenge the composites. Meanwhile he marches his two line battalions, one behind the other, to support the militia. The small battery covers the left of this movement, while the Freikorps is also ordered towards the woods.
In the next turn, Ficksnore manages to get both of his batteries firing into the village, and though the militia takes light casualties, it holds its position and the village does not burn. The forces in the woods engage in a firefight (the new rules gave the Frankszonian lights only three dice against their foes five ... this would have repercussions later, but given the disruption factor or whatever, this round the honors were about even). Seeing the grenadiers pressing forward, Nathan orders his artillery to focus on them. The Frankszonian artillery will perform quite well, ultimately weakening the grenadiers enough that their attack on the village will fail). Unfortunately, the Freikorps leader refuses to enter the woods to support the lights this turn.
In the next turn, the grenadiers open musketry on the village, but the first battalion of the Frankszonian line is able to come up on their flank and deliver a resounding volley! (Out of ten total dice in this firefight, btw, not one single solitary hit! .... and then a cat knocks over the dice box, so I have to move the whole battle onto the bed, get down on hands and knees with a flashlight and pick up the dice, and then get reset again .... all without disturbing the wife! (Woosh)). The Frankszonian lights do get driven out of the woods in this turn, but the Freikorps leader posts one battalion to confront the woods while marching the other to capture the Britischerwurst howitzers. Those howitzers had damaged the Frankszonian first battalion enough that it fails to charge the exposed flank of the grenadiers.
So, on the next turn, The Grenadiers storm into the village (where the militia amazingly stands fast). Nathan anxiously brings up his second battalion hoping to drive the redcoats back before they can consolidate. The Britischerwurst line advances to support the howitzers and to stop the Freikorps charge. Amazingly, the militia holds on in the village and much bedraggled Grenadiers are driven back in disorder (carrying Lord Ficksnore with them). The British line does score a few casualties against the Freikorps, but the Friekorps does manage to overrun the howitzers! The advance of the Frankszonian 2nd battalion also manages to take the recoiling Grenadiers in the flank, driven them back through the Red line ... and then to drive in a battalion of the Red line!
Covered by the composite battalion and the 2nd line battalion, the Reds retreat into the hills, barely avoiding a cat astrophe named Tweetie who was looking for any leftovers from an earlier feeding ...

It may have been the light, it may have been my tiredness, but these dice never rolled so many low numbers before ... which created a lot of surprising situations for me to enjoy.
I figure Nathan is still reaming the 1st Battalion for not charging when it should have, and I expect the Red coat troops would like to ream Ficksnore too ... but that will take another day.
The Red infantry wasn’t too worried about losing the Howitzers ... in three turns of firing, they only managed to inflict two casualties!
And how can I effectively give battle honors to a militia unit which will evaporate before my next game!!
:)
Arthur

.

Photos of Vauban Fortifications

2009-09-13T18:57:00.000-07:00

http://lechenet.free.fr/Reportages/vauban/vauban.htm

I truly wish I'd had this site available 30 years ago when writing my Senior Thesis!
A major comment, when you view the photos, look at the green stuff! Most of Vauban's works were earth works on which he deliberately planted trees and bushes to make them very difficult for the enemy to figure out the best sites for siege batteries ... much of the stone work in these photos are obviously from pre-Vauban eras!

BTW, if you don't know ... the "portrait" used for me in Blogspot is actually one of Vauban ... one of my heroes. Not only a great engineer, a brave soldier, but also a daring proponent of the idea that one should tax folks who HAVE money rather than the peasants (this last idea forced Louis XIV to retire him).

:)
Arthur

A Hunting we will go ....

2009-09-09T21:17:00.000-07:00

The time approaches for the annual visit to Ausfhart by the Hurtshog, Stanken Fhartz.
The old castle of Einfhart has been renovated, and there's a family reunion scheduled for the annual late grape harvest (okay, it's probably later than that in real Germany, but I always liked Reisling Spatlaze Rhine wines).

Since the family is as politically united as Frankfurter itself, this is going to take some ticklish diplomacy ....

Intendent Bastille pours himself a solid cup of Benedictine (Chevert Wine is for more delicate occasions) as he sees L'Comte Beauphaup sashaying towards his office.
I'll have to paraphrase their conversation as I don't speak a word of French ...

Bastille gulps it down and turns toward the door to greet his visitor:
Bastille: Good afternoon, m'Lord. What is the occasion of the honor of your visit?
Beauphaup (taking a sniff from his pomander): Nothing especial, your Excellency ... we just require a few notes of safe passage through the lines.
Bastille: Through the lines?
Beauphaup: Well, there's the Hurtshog cousin, who's declared himself the true Hurtshog and attached himself to Hesse Cassel and his entourage;
Bastille: Permit hostile officers through the lines?!?
Beauphaup (ignoring Bastille's irritation and shock): and the Ritter Frazlewitz, the Hurtshog's illigitimate half brother ...
Bastille: Ah, the old Duke did have a reputation!
Beauphaup: NO, no. That crowd would be too dangerous, somebody might decide to attempt a radical form of legitimization, if you follow my meaning ...
Bastille (even more shocked): So, this "half brother" is not his father's child?
Beauphaup: Of course not, and there is also Bombastus Fhartz, though he'll be a special problem ...
Bastille (a little rocky): a (his voice rises an octave)"special" problem?
Beauphaup: Oh yes, he's a renegade. Casts cannons for the Turk, you know. The Papal agents will be trying to catch him, and Stagonia will be trying to buy him ...
Bastille (with heavy sarcasm): and what is the purpose of these "little requests"?
Beauphaup: Well, the old family castle has been renovated, you know: Nice French style gardens with clear fields of fire and so forth. The Hurtshog feels that a grand family reunion amid the wine fest would help him with the people outside of the city where the Resistance hides out.
Bastille: So he's throwing ANOTHER ball?
Beauphaup: Oh yes. It'll be all local girls except for whomever you and the other foreign notables bring.
Bastille: You expect ME to attend another of the Hurtshog's balls? (His voice rising and trembling)
Beauphaup: Of course! How could we hold a state ball without bringing such powers as yourself? The official invitations probably won't go out for a few weeks yet ...
Bastille: Excuse me, m'lord Count, but I feel some indigestion ...
Beauphaup: So sorry. I'll leave these documents with you ... perhaps some Fraumilch might help?

Bastille lurches abruptly for the closet, waving Beauphaup away.
Beauphaup shrugs, does an about face, and hands a portfolio to Bastille's aide as he minces out ....

Centurions Wargaming

2009-08-09T13:43:00.000-07:00

http://centurionswargaming.blogspot.com/

Centurions Wargaming club is up by Minneapolis and St. Paul ... and they do a nice Koenig Krieg game periodically.
Their latest after action report is nicely detailed ... an awful lot happens in a single turn of K.K., and they went 5 turns ...

There are nice pictures at:

http://www.flickr.com/photos/war_artisan/sets/72157621857977553/

They use "historical units" and aren't really an imagination, but they call their games the wars of scrambled alliances, as each guy brings his own figures. Then they set up "balanced" armies by ignoring who was historically allied with whom.
:)
Looks like they had fun though
:)
A

An Evening Ball OOM!

2009-07-10T19:38:00.000-07:00

As usual, the Frankszonian cooks perform prodigies, and the salivating scents slide on the smoke throughout the gathering party. As the luminaries begin to drift back, the ladies in fine, voluminous gowns and jewels, the men in silken sashes and golden piping and epaulettes around their frothy lace, the party is enlivened by the gaiety arising between the young foreign cavalry troopers and the Frankfurter girls.
There is a brief pause for the proper welcoming speeches, introductions, and of course (this is Frankszonia after all) rounds of spontaneous toasts. As Moosart gets his little orchestra set up in a pavilion (there had been a delay while a troop of pioneers checked the structure for soundness ...at least that’s what the musicians were told), the Hurtshog clambers up on a table (not actually an act of spirit induced spontaneity, the table had been carefully chosen to bear his weight and known clumsiness) to hail the crowd.
“We aren’t going to have the normal fireworks show,” he begins, and the crowd boos. The Hurtshog persists however,” we WILL have fireworks.”
“The normal fireworks show is a prolonged concert of explosions and colors,” Stanken explains. “Tonight, with Moosart’s guidance, we will be firing off our displays in small batches at times chosen to enhance the orchestra’s performance.
“Tonight,” he concludes, weaving alarmingly above the edge of the china, “we will dance to light and thunder!” He then clambers down to the cheers of the crowd with the aid of several soldiers.
Indeed, there are quite a few soldiers on the parade grounds tonight. In their parade uniforms and brightly polished bayonets, they are formed into squares which mark out distinct activity areas ... the refreshments, the tables, the dancing floor, the side lines, and so forth have distinct groups of troops who pace back and forth but otherwise seem to ignore the party altogether. This of course, is a challenge to some of the younger maidens, but their attempts to distract these men is usually met by a polite but firm unteroffizer who guides them away to some other attraction, like a foreign and tipsy trooper.
The young gentlemen of the party sigh in despair as a few of them have the chance to dance with the grand ladies. The Princess Alisonia, of course, has a nice coterie of local noblemen, while Lady Masquerade seems surrounded by people whose acquaintance she’d made on her last trip. Lady Pettygree quite entrances the grounds when the orchestra plays a Scottish air and some officers of the Black Skirts dance an Highland jig with her. The visitors are treated to a local folk dance ... a sort of reel in which the chain of dancing couples have to pass through the arched arms of the leading couples ... who deliberately place themselves at an angle to the former arch so that instead a straight troop through and around, the dance weaves through the grounds (Okay, made that up, but my “German” relatives were sober, Protestant Hoosiers from the time of the American Revolution: folks who didn’t dance at all ... sigh).
Every time that a dance called for jump, or sudden stop, or other movement, there would be a swoosh of scintillating rockets. When the dances ended, bright, silvery green fountains would spray up around the crowd. When the orchestra was set for the next piece, mortars would lob great, loud, brilliant silver bombs into the sky.
“More wine kegs?” Ritter Andrew asks v.Mack, after one extremely loud shot They kept close to Duchess Lynda ... who was being entertained by a Frankszonian general who had met her previously.
“Yes,” v. Mack answered. “The fountains as well. They’re quite bright aren’t they?”
Even as Andrew is responding, there is another loud explosion beyond the grounds, and a bright flash through the trees. The orchestra is thrown a little off as the explosion seems badly timed, but continues playing and the laughing crowd continues to dance and to imbibe. V.Mack and Ritter Andrew, however, join the sudden rush of officers towards that explosion while a company or two of soldiers quickly drop to a ready stance facing in other directions.
Alarm begins to spread through the crowd as an alarm bell sounds and cavalry bugles sound. A smattering of musket shots and shouts breaks out and dies down. Gallian and Frankszonian officers circulate through the crowd assuring them that all is okay and to resume the party. The nervous crowd, unfortunately, is not calmed when people realize that the notable visitors and the Hurtshog and his Princess have suddenly vanished. Indeed, they are all going quickly to the Bastille, surrounded by Col. Enigma’s personal squadron of troopers and the Frankszonian jaegers.
Arriving at the Bastille, they find a large hole blasted in the side of the building, exposing several cells. There bodies in and around the building, and Gallian soldiers with still smoking muskets carefully checking each one. One body suddenly rises and attacks! A Gallian officer and his sergeant dash upon it and chop it to pieces with their swords.
“Hold!” cries Reich Duke Wilhelm. “Try to take them alive!”
“Too late, sire,” the officer responds. “Some of these guys were dead before they got here.”

** (Note to my readers: I never watch zombie movies, so I am unfamiliar with the concepts larded onto the zombie from Hollywood ... for that and other good plot reasons, I’m sticking to the poor unfortunates produced by Voo Doo, etc.) **

“What do you mean?” Major DeBauchery demands.
“We’ve got a couple of the better specimens bound over there, sir,” the captain replies.
He leads them to a group of soldiers who are restraining several men who lurch about awkwardly.
“A little too much spiritual reinforcement, eh?” the Hurtshog laughs.
“No, my lord,” the captain responds. “I saw this sort of thing in the West Indies, sir. The poor person is poisoned and falls into a coma. The locals bury him, but the villain digs him up and revives him with the antidote. How much damage is done depends how much poison the victim has received and how soon the antidote is administered.”
“What horrible poison do they use?” Princess Alisonia inquires.
“Some sort of fish oil, your Highness ...”
The rest of the answer is lost as the entire party gasps. All have ingested considerable portions of fish: fried, grilled, battered, spiced, and marienated. The Anglericans having risen to the challenge of the moment.
“How quickly does the poison act?” the Hurtshog asks urgently.
“Fairly quickly, sir.” the captain responds.
“I’d say that if you walked over here from the dance grounds, you’re safe.” Princess Stuftliana adds. “My own people are aware of this poison.”
“We also took precautions,” Baddmann assures the group. “We made sure no chef even considered anything suspicious. No eels boiled in brew!” he directs to Lady Pettygree. “We did intercept a shipment of dried fish from upriver which were supposedly from Weiner.”
“Upriver? As Stagonia is upriver?” Stanken Fhartz presses. “I think that you ought to reconsider your connection with Stagonia, My Lords.” He urges the Gallians.
“Actually,” Gen. Broglie answers, “this poison might more closely implicate Roquefort. We all know he’d like to replace Prince de Charade and l'Duc de Formidable with his own creatures. Seems like he thinks you’re vulnerable, Bstille. Be on your guard.”
“On my guard?” Bastille responds angrily. “Around here, I hardly dare to sleep!”
“Ja,” Baddmann whispers to v. Mack, “but our Mariah says he snores like a dragon.”
“She keeps notes, I presume,” v. Mack quietly responds.
“Hardly, the poor strumpet is totally illiterate,” Baddmann assures him, though v. Mack blatantly disregards the comment.

“Gentlemen,” Gen. Broglie, “we need to focus on other matters now. Capitan, whom did they rescue?”
“They tried to get out all of today’s prisoners, sir,” the officer responds, “but only one got away alive. I think it was that Hans Rottenbrat.”
“You still have the others in custody then,” Bastille said, feeling momentarily relieved.
“Sorry, m’Lord,” the captain answered. “We had to transfer custody to lower authorities if you know what I mean.”
“You killed them?”
“I don’t think so, sir. They seem to have either been killed in the explosion or by these rather inept rescuers.”
“Right,” the Hurtshog speaks loudly. “King Basil, your Majesty? Your Highness, Duke Wilhelm? “ He pauses, “Princess and Lady Pettygree, it would probably save time if you would join us and the Gallian generals in a private conference.”
The rest of the party draws back at the implicit command. L’Comte Bastille and Gen. Broglie seem inclined to argue, but the Hurtshog politely gestures for them to wait a moment.
“It’s as we feared,” he continues. “There’s been a collusion among our enemies. This is a plot much more ingenious and deeply developed than Roquefort has ever managed. Further, it is beyond the skill of the new Stagonian vileness.”
“It also, fortunately,” Bastille interrupts, “lacks the precision and professionalism of M’Lady.”
“That’s one relief!” Cherish Masquerade laughs. The Hurtshog grimaces at her uninvited presence but decides to ignore the issue as pointless. “I had wondered why the old Lady didn’t warn us about tonight.”
“Especially,” Lady Pettygree adds, “when Col. Enigma tells me we were saved by her this afternoon!”
“It’s an oblique attack,” Gen. Broglie decides. He explains to the younger people, “Germania has this tactic of marching off to one wing or another and sending the whole army after the lead battalions. That way they hope to overwhelm their foes at the point of contact, and even though the lead battalions may be totally wasted, the rest of the force will be in a position to attack.”
“Baddmann,” the Hurtshog calls, “I want a report from the officers in the city immediately. Any thing out of place, ANYTHING you understand?”
“Yes, Sire!” Baddmann calls and dashes off into the dark.
“Where are your reaction battalions?” the Hurtshog demands of Gen. Broglie.
“Between here and Bischoff, your Highness,” the Gen. responds. The Gallians are irritated at the bumbling Hurtshog suddenly assuming command, but in the presence of all these minor German royals, they have to act respectful. “We can have them here in half an hour or less.”
“Start them marching,” the Hurtshog responded, “but we won’t be here.”
“Pardon?” Bastille asks.
“Enigma!” the Hurtshog shouts, “Now!”
Col. Enigma whistles and one of his men begins to blow “Assemble” on a horn.
Stuftliana displays her pistol and calls out, “Ladies, present arms!”
Her example is quickly mimicked by rest of the party, but the Hurtshog advises the men to rely on swords in case more of the zombies appear. Indeed, a few do, but are ridden down by the thunderous appearance of the rest of Enigma’s regiment and the Hurtshog’s Sage Guard Cuirassiers. The party’s cavalry escort also comes tumbling through the dark to find their horses ready on leads by the other cavalry men.
“Your Majesties, Lords, and Ladies,” the Hurtshog laughs as he helps Stuftliana mount, “I think it’s time we dodged out of Hell. Lead on, Enigma!”
The force crashes into the night. Occasionally, someone takes a hopeless shot in the dark before being ridden down. Some small bands of shambling zombies are quickly butchered. Riding like a storm, they soon arrive at a small palace which was a refurbished castle. The Black Kilts are already in full possession of the place, as the horses crowd into the grounds.
“Your majesties, and all,” Stuftliana says as they gather, “this may not be as fancy nor as convenient as the palaces and embassies, but it is nice. We apologize for the necessary crowding, but until Gen. Broglie knows that the enemy is fully cleared away, we felt it better to not be where they expected.” She turns to Broglie, “What happens to your oblique attack, if, after the assault is made, you find your enemy is not where you thought it was, but was entrenched against you.?”
Gen. Broglie laughs loudly. “Observe, Comte,” he tells Bastille, “turbulent Frankszonia lets us live again.” Bastille, smiles wanly in response.
As the party moves inside, l’ Comte d’Beauphaup greets them. “I have taken the liberty, your majesties and gentles, of obtaining some BOTTLES of Chevert to settle your nerves.”
The party applauds him, and he begins to unseal the bottles. Suddenly, v. Mack grabs Beauphaup’s hands and snatches the bottle away. In the shocked silence that follows, he grimly displays that a tiny hole had pierced the seal! After careful examination, they find two more bottles similarly marked.
“Tonight,” the Hurtshog sighs, “I’m afraid we’ll need to employ the old stand by of tasters. Alas, Comte,” he turns to Beauphaup, “that clearly is your station as well tonight.”
The ever urbane diplomat nods and, opening an untampered bottle, pours himself a glass.

—

In spite of the terrors of the night, no further alarms excite them. The tampered bottles are removed to be tested on condemnd prisoners. I am sorry to not have written a tense night of worrying and lovemaking, but my real Princess needs me tonight and so this adventure draws to a close.
Some loose ends ...
It is decided to publicly blame “fugitive brigands from St. Maurice” and offer a joint operation with the Kingdom of St. Maurice to restore law and order in the FrankWald.
I had thought of sending the party back by river boat, but unfortunately my time is burnt up for writing this (sigh) ... plenty of gambling and necking to be done ...
And the tiny prick of fear at the end ... was m’Lady involved after all?
While rumors swirl around Frankfurter, the official word is that the visit was exciting and new bonds of friendship (and commercial opportunity) have been formed.

Hope you enjoyed this, the chair at my confuser is most uncomfortable!
(Luagh)

A Quiet Fry Up, just a little fishy?

2009-07-08T20:47:00.000-07:00

(Apologies for any misspellings of character names here ... a little discomfort healthwise, nothing serious, but I don’t feel like making all the corrections for my bad typing tonight) :_(

After some heated discussions, mostly involving who would be safest where, the whole party removes to the Redan Bastille (a reinforcement of the Frankfurter defenses obtained as a sop to local feelings during the construction of the nearby Gallian prison, both outside the main walls). Not only did all concede that it would be easier to intercept any attacks there, but also there were several crack units already deployed there in preparation for a grand review.
Gen. Broglie was puzzled, however, that the Sage Guard from Frankszonia would not be in the review. Not only was it a Guard unit, and thus usually a part of any formal visit, but also it contained some of the best drilled professionals in the area. Gen. Oscar Meyer grinned wryly and responded, “this week, a lot of the men in the Sage Guard Uniform are better drilled for hunting than for a parade.” The comment confirmed the suspicions that the military members of the party had already entertained about their local honor guard. The presence of squadrons of their own escort was comforting.
In spite of the terror of the previous hour, the Frankfurters cheerfully lined the streets and cheered from their decorated houses as the party paraded through the town under the brightly dyed fabric arches. Cuirassiers following the party scattered silver pennies among the crowd, and a large beer wagon stopped at each corner to hand out a keg. In the side streets, outdoor grills filled the air with enticing smells, promising a flavorful evening to partying throng.
“They seem awful cheerful,” young King Basil commented.
“I’ll drink to that!” The Hurtshog, who was riding with the other sovereigns, responded. “We take celebration as a serious commitment here.”
“So we’ve heard,” laughs Duke Wilhelm. “I wonder how the vivandiers are making out?”
“Fairly often, I hope,” Princes Stuftliana giggles.
“I’m sure,” Princess Alisona said with mock primness, “that their contributions to the general festivities are widely appreciated!”
—
When the party arrives at the redan and takes its place in a pavilion placed on the works, the Hurtshog convenes a quick council. “We have things to consider together,” he comments to his guests, and carefully chooses a spot downwind.
“Your security,” Col. Enigma complained, “seems rather like a sieve. I’d hoped for better after last time!”
“We don’t have the resources of Gallia,” Gen. Meyer snapped. “But we have more than our share of enemies who specialize in secret agents.”
“Gentlemen,” Gen. Broglie intervenes, “there is too much here to indulge ourselves. What information do we have?”
“First of all,” Gen. Meyer responds, “those guns at the Cathedral were northern made.”
“Northern?” Ritter Andrew asks. “I thought they would be Stagonian and from the southern forests!”
“We must consider,” Herr Kunnegunde (Frankszonian Chief Watchman), “that the guns were left behind. They may be a deliberate decoy.”
“But,” the Hurtshog continues, “there is also strong evidence of collusion among our many enemies. We’ve been on alert ever since we found out that Lady Pettygree was coming.”
“I’m hardly an enemy,” Diana protests.
“Indeed not, my Lady,” the Hurtshog responds. “Indeed, we have one regiment that would rather be here to defend you than our southern woods! However, is it not true that when you come this far into Germania, there is a Germanian agent of incredible skill who seems drawn to oppose you? After all, Comte Bastille, we have still received no word on what that little affair near here a couple of days ago was all about!”
Bastille and Broglie look at each other but say nothing.
“Right,” the Hurtshog continues, “and what information did your mother send you, Ritter Andrew?”
“She warns of ambushes, possible sabotage of the powder supplies, and the usual Stagonian poisonous wine.” The young man answered.
“Aha!” Kunegunde exclaimed, “We thought that was Roquefort again!”
“You knew about sabotaged powder and poison?” Bastille demanded indignantly.
“No, M’sr l’Intendant,” Kunegunde answered, “but you must ask the Hurtshog.”
As the group’s attention returns to the portly notable, he calls, “Baddmann! Bring in a keg.”
“So we can drink to it?” Gen. Broglie asked sardonically.
A well suited, middle aged man whom they had seen dancing with each of the ladies on the previous evening enters with another gentleman carrying a small wine barrel. A quick glance passes between Ritter Andrew and the second gentleman as the pair very carefully set the keg on a table.
“I’ve heard of your reverence for wines, your Highness,” King Basil comments, “but this is a tad extreme isn’t it?”
“Gen. v. Pilsner?” Gen. Meyer bows slightly, “if you would be so good as to step to the table to witness, please? Meanwhile, could the rest of you please step into the embrasures to enjoy the bands and the drills out in the drill field for a moment?”
The ladies and their men exchange worried glances ... what new fright is Frankfurter going to reveal? Lady Pettygree, however, pulls loose from Catherine’s worried grasp and steps forward with Cherish Masquerade. “We should probably also observe, General,” Diana insists.
Col, Enigma quickly offers to take her place, but she firmly places her hand on his chest and steps forward. Meanwhile, a double file of large grenadiers forms a solid wall between King Basil and Duke Wilhelm and the military clustered around the table. Baddmann and v. Mack are carefully and slowly working the top off of the keg.
“You will observe,” the Hurtshog begins, “that the keg bears the markings of the Chevert Estate and Vinyards.”
“But! ...” both Broglie and Bastille begin.
The Hurtshog stops them with a sharply upraised hand. “We know,” he nods his head. “Chevert is never shipped in barrels, the estate is very and properly proud of its glass works and its bottling process. An alert shipper brought this to our attention.”
“So that’s why you’ve been burgling the wine stores!” Bastille exclaims. “What is the poison?”
“You’ll be pleased to know, m’lord Comte,” Hzg. Fahrtz replied, “there’s not one drop of poison in the barrel.” He grimaces, “indeed, there’s not one drop of anything in the barrel.”
The collective puzzlement of the party is caught as Baddmann carefully lifts out a small spoonful of black and silvery powder. He flicks the powder onto the floor where it snaps, sparks, and smokes brightly!
“Mon Dieu!” Broglie exclaims. “We could all have small kegs in our quarters!”
“Which is why,” the Hurtshog answered grimly, “why we’ve planned for the fireworks and ball to be an affair in the park. I trust my Grenz and my Jaegers to catch assassins before they get too close out there.”
“May our own light infantry join yours, your Highness?” Gen. Broglie is polite enough to ask.
“We’d appreciate it, but be sure that the sergeants and officers know each and every face.”
“Of course!”
“And, your Majesty and your Highness,” the Duke turns to his guests, “if your escorts could also attend, with swords and whatever, I believe that my Chamberlain, l’Comte Beauphaup has managed to locate enough young ladies to partner them ... it will be a wonderful ball, hosted by the Guilds in your honor, Duchess Lynda. Unfortunately, there will be no masques or costumed waiters.”
“We must be honest with you,” Gen Meyer interjects. “We do expect some more ... ah ... interesting intrusions. But we are quite confident that they will be resolved as thoroughly as the affair Pettygree recently, no?”
The party smile rather nervously, and the ladies press their gentlemen with worried looks. At this, Princess Stuftliana, who had been acting as if a star struck girl to this point, stepped forward. “Dears, your presence would be very, very helpful,” she pleaded. “Besides, the Frankszonian people really have looked forward to seeing you at the ball. We have a wonderful seamstress here, and her girls can create and equip wonderful gowns with interesting features ... like this!” She suddenly displays an expensive pistol, seemingly from thin air. As the group’s collective shock settles, Stuftliana continues, “Alisonia, Diana, no whimpering. I’ve seen the reports on how well you handle pistols. I suspect that the vivandiers are no less qualified also. They are from Monte Cristo after all.” She grinned mischievously, “come, come, girls. Isn’t it time we demonstrated why we demand so much from our guys?” She looked out at the field where a Frankszonian militia unit and some Gallian musketeers were performing an “X” march through drill to the music of drums, trumpets, bugles, and a lot of tubas. “Let’s see if we can bore them as much as they do us!” Stuftliana concludes, laughing.

A Morning's Entertainment

2009-07-07T13:35:00.000-07:00

Imagine Johannes surprise when Erwin says in response to his question, "I brought four of my 'fancy' pistols. Would you care for a pair? And when did you ever know me to have an unloaded one about?!" Baddmann gave an approving grunt as the two double barreled pistols disappeared under his cloak.
Mack continued, "I learned this trick when I was in Canada. Buck and ball with a large charge of powder is the key. Makes a hell of a loud noise, you can hit almost everyone in a small room with at least a pellet or two, the cloud of smoke comes in handy if you have to retreat, and by the third shot most crowds have found better places to be, leaving one shot in reserve. Tonight, my friend, I am loaded for bear. Although I'll settle for stag!"
“More like a filthy old goat, I’m afraid,” Johannes responded. “We suspect that Roquefort and M’Lady are involved too.”
“No wonder every time I look around, I see an alert soldier of some type!” Erwin responded. “Looks like you’re going to try to swat flies with cannon balls!”
“That’s the general idea,” Johannes responded. “Hesse Cassel armies are too close to overlook the chance that either the guilds or the Resistance will make a serious effort ... and with all these agents in town, it’s likely that some of them are suggesting it.”
Even though, Johannes sounded like he was just grousing, v.Mack’s watchfulness had been suddenly amplified by what he’d heard. His eyes were moving from one deep shadow in the night bound street when he chanced on a face moving through a light, “Rottenbrat!” he hissed to Baddmann and quickly gestured at an otherwise nondescript laborer still putting up bunting.
In moments, their two horses were at the foot of the man’s ladder and four pistols were held close to some very sensitive areas. “Okay, Hans,” Baddmann growled, “come down very slowly and lean on the wall.
“Private!” he gestured to a nearby soldier, “call for the sergeant of the guard.”
As the soldiers clustered around him and thoroughly searched him, Hans Rottenbrat protested his innocence and productivity. V. Mack had already climbed the ladder for himself, however, and found a smelly, black rag in the folds of the bunting lying under a glass ball.
“So, Stagonia plans on Frankszonia having a hot time tomorrow?” he challenges the now silent and surly agent.
“Ver*%&#!!” Baddmann exclaims. “We’ve got miles of very expensive and brightly died cloth hanging on every house! It will all have to be checked tonight!”
“No need,” Rottenbrat asserts, “I just had time to put up one.”

After the prisoner is removed and handed over to the Gallians for deposit in the Bastille, Johannes and v. Mack hasten to the palace to spread the alarm. As. V. Mack delivers the letter to Andrew, Herr Kunegunde orders the town criers out while the tour party is still happily entertained inside the palace grounds. Several more incendiary devices are found in a couple of hours, and the city returns to its uneasy slumber.
___

In spite of Frankfurter’s fears, the night passed peacefully. The gathering at the palace, aided by the glittering presence of Princess Alisonia, Lady Pettygree, and Lady Masquerade is a social triumph. Princess Stuftliana choose the auspicious moment to make her reentry into the social whirl, looking exotically lovely in a simple gown from Frau Ewewarp. In recognition of the exhaustion of the day’s travel, the party breaks up at midnight.
In the hazy morning, Duchess Lynda and her ladies are awakened by sweet flute music being played by a quartet in the courtyard of the Beerstein embassy. After a breakfast featuring a selection of Frankszonia’s sausages, the ladies are especially delighted by the tour of the porcelain industry. Excellent Delft ware and brightly painted ceramics are displayed for their pleasure. They each get to select a set of some design that they personally find pleasing. After a short coffee with the other high level guests of the Duchy, they get a brief tour of the sausage factory. L’Comte Beauphaup apologizes for the shortness of the tour, but the factory in full production is hot, smelly, and very noisy.
To compensate for the chaotic racket of the sausage factory, the party is led to view the Frankfurter cathedral and the materials used in the coronation and annointing of the Holy Roman Emperor. While they tour the building, choirs take turns singing various hymns and historic songs from the choir stalls.
As they wander through the dusky corners of the Gothic edifice, a gentleman passes Lady Pettygree and whispers, “God save King Charles. Watch the wine.” Before she or Cherish can respond, the man is lost in the shadows. They step behind a pillar to discuss the incident with Catherine when an old woman brushes by who says, “Why do you tempt fate? Germania, though it gives you admirers also gives you deadly greetings. Look high and low!” Then, as a puff of incense causes the ladies to blink and sneeze, the old woman also is gone from sight.
Now thoroughly alarmed, the ladies seek out Col. Enigma who has so often protected them in the past. The whole party, however, is led out to the square, where in one corner a luncheon pavilion has been erected. There, brass bands of school children serenade them, one group presenting “The Tuba Sonnata”. The luncheon is lively ... exquistely grilled fish, bratwurst, and other items blend with the best beverages, laughter and chatter as the ladies and lords flirt and the children from the bands march by, red faced with pride.
Suddenly, the happy noise is shattered by the loud staccato of musket fire! As bullets smash into the crystal and china on the tables by Pettygree and Duke Wilhelm, the ever present guards spot the smoke from the roof of the Cathedral. Gallian and Frankszonian troops return fire, though the professional ear of the officers in the party notice that some of the Frankszonian “Guards” are equipped with rifles. Other soldiers dash into the building to try to catch these dastardly assasins.
The party members begin to scatter as the ladies scream and the men curse, but Col. Enigma catches a glimpse of an old lady beckoning by the Rectory. With loud commands he manages to herd the notables into the house and to get soldiers stationed at some of the windows. Ritter von Meltzer and Ambassador Sgnori Vittorio Moretti demand why they’ve been brought into this building with its large windows when the already garrisoned inn on the square had been closer. Even as the normally imperturbable colonel hunts for a good excuse, a loud, bright explosion tears out of the inn’s basement.
“I knew it!” Enigma exclaims and dashes off to find Lady Pettygree.
For about an half hour, the square is filled with competing troops ... cavalrymen from the Grand Tour, Frankszonian guards, and Gallian Grenadiers. As the confusion and furor die down, and as the smoke from the badly damaged inn settles, the Archbishop reports that the assassins seem to have escaped! “There are just too many hidden passages and acloves in the cathedral,” he explains. “Given the all the confusion outside, if the evil men had the foresight to dress in uniforms, they probably had an easy time making their withdrawal. We did, at least, find the three weapons they were using.”

Grand Tour cont. : The Night Before

2009-07-06T21:20:00.000-07:00

“Oh, Wilhelm,” Lady Louise sighed as they step out together onto the terrace from the noisy ballroom, “these Frankfurters are fun, but their food seems all charred!”
“It’s their obsession with grilling and frying, I suppose,” he answered. “Still, you need that kind of fortification for what they call an evening’s light dancing!”
Lady Louise laughs, as there is a moment’s pause in the music and some polite applause. “They do take their drinking seriously though,” she giggles, “don’t they?”
“I understand it’s something to do with local religious traditions,” Prinz Wilhem grins. “I’d never heard an argument as whether beer or wine was more sacred before either.”
The couple falls silent as they notice a sudden mass movement on the grounds below them. The guard, in his parade uniform is joined by about a dozen others and a sergeant. From the glances the men cast up, the couple perceives that the soldiers are obviously concerned about them. “Excuse us, sir,” Lady Louise calls down, “but did we cause you trouble?”
“Of course not,” a gruff but educated voice answered from behind them. Turning quickly, they find Major Ricewits of the Ducal Staff smiling at them. “It’s just that we don’t want a repeat of the last time,” he chuckles.
“Last time?” Prinz Wilhem asks.
“Shootings, though that’s already happened, duels, poison, and God knows what.”
“In the Palace?” Lady Louise gasps.
“No, it was a mansion out in the suburbs,” the Major responds genially. “It got badly shot up in last year’s battles, I’m afraid or we’d be there again ... better perimeter and all.”
“And .... what WAS this ‘last time’?” the Prinz insists.
“Well, a big ball for the Ladies Pettygree and Masquerade who’d come to celebrate the official Christening of the Urpprinz.’ Ricewits pauses a moment before continuing, “When you’re beautiful, talented, and have the ears of some of the major potentates, it seems that trouble can’t be far behind. We’ve got quite a load of royalty and nobility here, and frankly our local politics aren ‘t as healthy as anyone of us would like.”
“What’s up?”
“Well, it’s a little confusing. First of all, we’re occupied by major force we can’t hope to challenge directly, but which the people really don’t like. Our rulers are supposedly Catholic and the people devoutly Lutheran. Meanwhile the Syndics and Jews flourish under this Hurtshog and every outlying little town thinks we’re out to gobble them up. Added to that we do have some serious and perverted enemies. All that can be predicted about them is that they will try to make trouble too.” The major sighs, “Tonight, all is still calm. We hope to provide you a day or two more fun than ... ah .... interesting and exciting,” The major laughs a little and strolls away into the shadows.
Louise turns to Wilhelm with a worried, perhaps a little frightened gasp. “Andrew noticed some things on the way into town as well, darling,” he responds seriously. “We’ve got our own guard up too. It’s a byword that l’Comte Bastille is driven paranoid by the Frankfurters, but he’s still healthy and prosperous, so will we be.”

—

In the darkness, at the Saxenhausen Gate (Saxenhausen is Frankfurt’s fortified bridgehead across the Main), the guards challenge a tired rider on an exhausted horse. The rider notices that the guards are all Frankszonian and makes a professional note of the fact. “I’ve an urgent, personal message for the Ritter von Meltzer,” the rider declares. “He’s with the Grand Tour party of Reich Duke Wilhelm and King Basil.”
“Very well,” the young Lieutenant answers. “Dismount and lead your horse in through the sally port. We’ll water you both while we check your story.”
“My documents from the Margrafin von Raubenstadt,” Erwin von Mack proffers some papers to the men as he passes through the gate.
Inside the gatehouse, some men see to his horse and a private brings v. Mack a large stein of quality larger. Mack drinks the beer slowly as his professional eyes note the positions of the guards ... and a preloaded battery of small guns inside the gate. “What’s the threat?” he asks an off duty sergeant who is smoking a rather long pipe inside the room.
“Officially,” the sergeant grins, “we’re at war with the Kingdom of St. Maurice. Unofficially, the Gallian Gen. Broglie has threatened to impress every man who stand up, see lighting, and hear thunder if we fire another musket at each other.”
Mack laughs, but notices how one squad keeps behind and covers the forward squad and that there were gunners standing alert near the guns. *Nice excuse,* he thinks, *I wonder if the Hurtshog has heard the same rumors that we have?*
“Irwin! Good God!” a loud voice breaks into his reverie. “It’s been ages! I haven’t you since that affair at Weisbaden seen!”
“That can only be Baddmann!” v. Mack laughs in response. “What game are you playing today? Not another woodcarver, I hope?”
“Ah no. You see before you the dissipated gentleman who enjoys nothing more than a nice dance, and a nice dance afterwards too,” Johannes grins. He gives a card to the lieutenant, who quickly salutes and brings v. Mack’s horse to the door. “Come,” Johannes continues. “Your young Margraf is the lights fantastic with some northern fraulein dancing. I will you straight to him take.”
The pair ride through the normally dark streets, but which tonight are lit for party goerers enjoying the festivities. “All right, Mack,” Baddmann says as they cross the bridge, “what’s up?”
“In a word, Stagonia.”
“Any details? We’d spotted some of their stooges nearby.”
“My Lady’s letter is sealed, I’m afraid, and probably coded for the young man alone.”
“Naturally ... and what does she say?”
“More than one plot is afoot. There’s been signs of things concerning wine, fireworks, and sharpshooters.”
“No kidnapping? Stagonia always loved to kidnap children at loose in the world.”
“She didn’t mention that, but I’d rather suppose it’s possible.”
“No known connection then ...” Baddmann falls silent, leaving v. Mack puzzled as to the meaning of his comment. Then Baddmann asks after they pass the guards on the Frankfurter side of the Main, “You’ve that fancy pistol with you? If it’s not ready, we’d better stop while you load.”

The King is Coming, The King is Coming!

2009-07-06T13:00:00.000-07:00

The ladies gather chattering in Capitaine Malecki's residence. After their adventure and the excitement, the conversation is perhaps a little louder than usual. Even the fine vintages, including some fine old bottles of Chevert don’t seem to calm them. Some of the local battalion’s musicians gather outside to play a few pieces ... and to practice their regimental music. In all the noise, the clatter of hooves from a hard ridden horse and the challenges of the sentries are almost missed. Col. Enigma, who had been inside the house with the Princess Allisonia, however, has learned to always be on his guard when the Lady Pettygree is in the area.
Quickly pulling a pistol from his waistcoat, he steps beside a window and looks out past the drapes.
“Something’s happening,” Diana warns her friends, and in a moment, the cheerful party falls silent and alert ... a surprising number of other pistols appear from the voluminous folds of the ladies’ riding gear. The sound of the guards snapping to attention, and the command “Present ... Harms!” from outside, however, reassure them. Thus, when the door is opened, the young rider is not shocked by the sight of an unseemly number of gun barrels pointed at him. Rather, he minces inside in his silken brocade uniform, fluttering more lace than a rose bush has blooms. He pouts in attempt to appear serious, and bows to the assembled party.
“M’Lords and M’Ladies” (except it should be in stilted school French) the youngster proclaims, “I have the honor a message for Her Highness, the Princess Alisonia, and the Ladies Pettygree and Masquerade to be carrying.”
Even as the Princess begins a gracious reply, Lady Pettygree asks, “From whom does this missive come?”
“It is an urgent note from my Lord, L’Comte de Beauphaup, m’Lady.”
“The old fart’s private diplomat,” the captain declares. “What’s up, lad?”
“If my Ladies will read this missive,” the youngster responds, “I’m sure all will be made clear.”
Lady Cherish Masquerade quickly accepts the proffered envelope, breaks the seal and unfolds the stiff parchment. “Diana,” she exclaims, “King Basil could be here any moment!”

—
In Frankfurter, adjutants and notables are scurrying about in haste. L’Comte Bastille is interrupted in his interrogation of the new prisoners by an harried looking aide. The would be assassins are hurriedly stripped and locked away while the Gallians send their own swarms of messengers into the countryside and to the nearby encampment. Cloth merchants are raided for bolts of cloth to be used as bunting which swarms of apprentices and mechanics quickly nail over the main intersections.
At the palace, Moosart scrambles to get his little orchestra together while the Hurtshog consults with his diplomatic advisors and the StadtRadt leaders. “Can we put together a quick agenda?” is the question on everybody’s mind.
The consensus is that the presence of the lovely and widely admired foreigner noblewomen is a real boon, even if their presence was part of another nefarious plot by the occupying forces of Gallia. If they will participate, a reception and informal fete would give the city a night to spruce up. In the morning, a quick formal inspection of some show troops followed by the mandatory tours of the excellent ceramic works (and a good source of exquisite gifts for all the visitors) and the famous sausage works, followed by a tuba concert. Then a real ball to the music of Moosart’s musicians.
The guild syndics, of course, hope to corral the various diplomats with the party and obtain good contracts for the long lasting Frankfurter field sausages, artillery from the foundry shared with Offenbach, and similar condiments. Their primary anxiety is that the Hurtshog is going to try to intervene to make these contracts very favorable for the young King Basil, as his opposition to the Turkish hordes may open up new products for pork based products.

=—
As the afternoon wears on, the convoy of the Grand Tour is delayed by numerous check points. The closeness of major armies for Gallia and Hesse Seewald involves numerous little challenges for the diplomats riding with the party. Finally, a couple of chivalrous generals from the opposing sides generate special passes and each contributes a ceremonial escort ... a fact grimly noted by some nondescript shepherds as the party passes through one of the many woods near Frankfurt.
As the now enlarged party exits the hills overlooking the fortress town and its surrounding encampments, two squadrons of cavalry approach. The first to arrive is a somewhat dusty but otherwise impecable Col. Enigma and a troop of hussars. With a lovely caracole, he brings his troop into the double file reception lines along the road. Riding up to the royal coach, he makes is bow and politely welcomes King Basil and Reich Duke William on behalf of l’Comte Bastille, Intendant of Frankfurter, and General Broglie of the nearby Gallian army.
While the hussars, whose escorting troops seem to gravitate towards the vivandiers from Monte Cristo, squeeze in beside the considerable force already present, a glittering troop of Frankfurter Guard Cuirassiers arrives at a more sedate pace. General Hottatrot rides forward to deliver a somewhat florid greeting, but winks at the ladies as he delivers it. Ritter von Meltzer, in command of the convoy’s escorting cavalry, however, notes that a considerable number of dragoons had peeled away from the Cuirassiers during their approach march and seemed to be carefully searching the fields and copses off the road.
“Is there some problem?” he inquires of General Hottatrot ... indicating one of these hunting parties.
“Rumors, my man, rumors only,” the genial general responds. “Just taking precautions against any eventuality ... we are rather close to some angry folks here!” he laughs.
*Ja,* King Basil thinks, *rumors, Das is richtig ... und rumors in Morea wenn Ich comt also*

the Tour gets busy!

2009-07-04T20:41:00.000-07:00

From the Margraf von Raubenstadt (one of Nebulous Neighbors) comes this lovely bit!

Von Mack Rides Again
Erwin Von Mack, Chief (and Only) Intelligence Agent for the Markgraaf of Raubenstadt, found himself late at night on the road to nearby Frankfort Am Main, with a message from the Margrafin to her second son, the Ritter Andrew Von Meltzer, who was currently accompanying the Grand Tour of the Reich Duke Wilhelm Von Beerstein. She had received vague warnings from her sources in Stagonia, that there was a foul plot underway in Frankzonia involving the Grand Tour and the Frankfurter Herzog, but no further specific details as to who, how, and when were forthcoming.

Von Mack thought that if the Stagonians had grown so bold as to antagonize the Frankfurters, they were due for a rude awakening. Could this new agressive stance be the influence of the Duchess of Sachen-Vindow? If so, she did not know the Frankfurters as well as she thought. Bitterly gained personal experience had taught Von Mack that underneath the bland and somewhat bumbling facade Stanken showed the world, there lurked a mind that could have taught Machavelli a thing or two about ruling. He mentally winced at the memories, and wondered what it would be like to be on the same side for a change.

Sachen-Vindow. Sachen-Vindow. His failure at that damnable Inn, "The Crooked Kobold", had haunted Von Mack for months now, and if events had just gone a little different, he probably wouldn't have found himself on the road to Frankfort Am Main at such an ungodly hour, with a full moon lighting his way along the well known track. The grim setting did nothing to improve his mood. Von Mack was determined that this time there would be no failures.

Justice and Death, personally delivered in the form of Erwin Von Mack, were coming closer to Frankfort with every plodding hoofbeat of his horse....

A Spiritual Mess ... uh ... Messenger

2009-07-02T10:33:00.000-07:00

(An Announcement after a Meeting With Spirits in the Frankfurter Cathedral)

Most Reverend Addled von Gutgulp, Patriarch of the Later-In-The-Day Saints (an unique rye, uh, Rite in the Catholic Shursh), has ashsigned Rt. Rev. Mousewitz as a plenty ... uh ... plainly ... uh ... represhentative of Frankshzonia to the Bishopric of Uber Gruntshuffen on behash uf der Hurtshog Fhartz von Frankfurter to dishcush problemsh of mushial (Hic!) intrestsh.

HAlleluia!

Vee'll trink zu zhat ....
Deo Grashiash

Royal Visits Expected ....

2009-06-28T22:26:00.000-07:00

Great excitement arises in Frankszonia, as word of a forthcoming visit by a young prince and a gallant sovereign from the Mediterranian struggles with the Muslim heretics!
The several Greek and Slavic exiles whose recipes have enhanced the quality of the frankfurter locally are in fervor.

Officials are sent to the Gallian commands locally to be sure that they do not slight the expected guests and that their security patrols will be especially vigilant, given the suspected presence of M'Lady. Furthermore, it is suggested that some of their premier Gallian vintages be made available for the palettes of these Southern lords.

Lady Pettygree and her marvelous company are, of course, given a special invite to attend the festival occasions. Mistress Ewewarp is ordered to create special gowns for the occasion, and Moosart composes a special fiddle faddle.
A special battalion of Invalides Guards is formed to provide appropriate pageantry.

The reception at the Ducal palace itself, alas, will be restrained, as both the Hurtshog and Princess Stuftliana are rumored to have been recently run through some ordeal by these blundering physicians .... still, it is rumored that some special fireworks will be fired from the fortress mortars for the occasion ...

On the really beautiful version 3 Koenig's Krieg

2009-06-28T21:48:00.000-07:00

A much more detailed commentary will be written up in a week or two. This is not a review, but more an initial reaction ... and I've promised them a review. So far, I’ve got two pages of notes on things which were either new or troublesome to me.

Let it be understood, none of them (except for the missing cheat sheet) would put the kabosh on me really liking and supporting these rules. Furthermore, the incredible and perhaps overly ambitious use of many, many color photos of figures in formation, etc. undoubtedly ran up the price of the book massively. Having seen it, I’m no longer surprised at the price.

* One: they really got fancy: wonderful eye candy, lots of figure photos, very sharp graphics which more clearly illustrate rules, and detailed summary charts. Moreover, they were at pains to repeat stuff whenever it was pertinent ... which was irritating to me, but understandably very helpful to folks who would be perusing the rules to determine what to do next. Also, they deliberately introduced double spacing in between the various points, which also made the rules structure easier to understand. Some of the many charts to summarize the rules were perhaps too detailed (the flow chart for turn sequence, for instance, which is done in such a way to enable a computer programmer to work it, {Laughing}), but will invariably speed up finding and applying a given rule (but the important ones simply will HAVE to be put on a cheat sheet).

* Two: by and large they did some excellent things to make the rules understandable and put the kibosh on rules lawyers. For instance, I found the write up on defensive fire to be most understandable (by the way, I’ve flipped on this a bit ... looking at the game logic, no defensive fire is more appropriate than what I originally fought for).

* Three: Since the game is based on Brigades and independent units, they redid the cost analysis from individual figures to Brigades and such units. While they do provide for a lot of flexibility, it is just rigid enough not to appeal to an ad hoc gamer who plays undersized games (like myself). On the other hand, the approach does make building armies much more rapid and enables the creation of "victory point" systems as well as nicely analyzed cost comparisons. Also, this method let’s them include many considerations which would otherwise require more figuring on the part of the player (such as the much more expensive staff for larger armies .... put into the cost of the general).

* Four: They also included rules to make the game much more effective for battles outside of the European theater. The effort to do this introduced a new level of complexity, which I deplore, but do vastly expand the utility of the game within the era ... Once again, one can fight for India or face the American Indian swarms ...

Of course, I have my own quibbles .... I've got to maintain my standing in the elderly, obese, curmudgeon club!

* First: Most of the rules changes seem to have obviously been done to produce a greater focus on the period of 1730 = 1780. I'll be doing a more complete write up later, but IMHO, quite a few of these new rules introduced an unnecessary level of complexity. I was particularly bothered by the new way in which the artillery rules were written ... which did not really change things that much as make the system more flexible, especially for battles outside of Europe. On the other hand, the new complexity is not too bad, easy to follow their reasoning, and not only widen the scope of play but also definitely increase the period flavor in tangible ways. The 2nd edition was quite easily used to play a basically Napoleonic army ... which is now patently improbable.

* Second: There are some amusing typos ... only two of which could cause any confusion in play that I saw so far. I understand that the proofreading was rushed and done under confusing circumstance to begin with. Should all be easy to fix in the next printing (which I also suspect, will include less of the wonderful photos of figures and so forth, as those are sure to be running up the price).

* Third: (both a very good thing and a quibble together) They include the basic major armies of the 7YW; some very nice scenario designs, and an historical battle (Mollwitz). On the other hand, the wonderful army features of the 2nd edition and its list and classification of historical period generals is missing. Nor do they have the supplements for WSS, Festung Krieg, etc. I suspect that this is because their very elaborate method of providing army lists was also a huge expense ... though it does make the lists rather easy to understand.

* Fourth: This is a lethal error, I think. They did not include cheat sheets!! They have already realized their mistake and are putting them and some supplementary material together as a freebie supplement already ... we who already have the rules can get them as a free download.

By and large, this is a very good job. The things I didn't like (almost always because I felt that they weren’t really necessary) would not impede the play and would definitely add clear period flavor. Just leafing through the book and looking at the pictures and skimming the side bars was quite fun. Really, this IS one of the games in which I'd like to participate ... if ever I can get to a convention myself! So, back to the painting board.

28 June 2009
Arthur Pigg

A Very Dry Vintage

2009-06-03T15:34:00.000-07:00

A Very Dry Vintage

It was a dark and very quiet night (okay, I couldn’t resist). With no moon, the stars over Frankfurter sprinkled back from the wavelets on the Main. Along the unloading piers for the Gallian depot, the sentry marches tiredly on. Quietly, after the sentry has passed, two figures suddenly appear on one of the barges and step quickly across to the pier to one of the ramshackle sheds thrown up by the Gallian suppliers. The smaller fiddles with the door for a second, steps through and then back out and nods to the larger. The large man, who even in this dim light looks like an old copper statue, ducks under the lintel and a moment later steps back out carrying a barrel. The two step back onto the barge and disappear. The whole action taking less than a few seconds.
In the dark, sentries exchange the sign and countersign, and the local private wearily plods back the wier to the other end of his beat. As he passes, a strange, long boat with both ends curved up and together slips silently out into the river. The two passengers steadily and stealthily dip their paddles into the water and cross over towards Saxenhousen.
“That was quick, Moose Hunter,” the short man in the front of the canoe whispered. “Are you sure you got one?”
“Third one I picked up, Johannes,” Moose Hunter replied. “It’s full, but there’s no liquid in it.”
They quietly finish their voayage and get pulled through the muck on the south shore by a couple of soldiers. The barrel is lifted onto a small cart, and the soldiers led by a young Fahenjunker and an Hauptman hurry through the dark streets followed by Johannes and Moose Hunter. They stop at what appears to be a run down boarding house and carry the barrel inside. The soldiers step outside again and march away except for the two officers who move slowly towards a darkened inn.
“So! Our little Gallian lap dog is stealing from his master again!” the Fahenjunker cheerfully commented.
“Hush!” the Hauptman answered quickly. Then he looked carefully around and lowered his voice. “It’s time you started to pay attention to things that a nobleman should notice. And it’s time you learned to keep your mouth shut too, now that Kunegunde has Bastille’s little house to take the blame for his actions.”
“I’m sorry, Father,” the youngster apologized. “What is it that you want me to notice?”
“Frankszonia has fought four wars with other Gallian allies ....”
“And the Hurtshog has carefully held back the best troops at the last moment to ensure that they win!”
“... But under the cover of those little squabbles, the Hurtshog has eliminated the pockets of territory cutting up out Stadtholdings and more than doubled our territory and resources.”
“So he’s a good little Hurtshog who is nicely improving his claim,” the youngster snorted.
“Wake up, Son! The Hurtshog and his councilors are quite serious about Deutschland vor Deutsche Volk. They’ve got this impossible dream of some sort of confederation of little states that can keep the big boys from tearing up our towns for their playground.”
“Isn’t that what the Wieners and their Reich are supposed to be doing?”
“Ja, and you can see for yourself how wonderfully well THAT is working.”
“So what? If our tiny army sneezes, Bastille and Broglie will impress whoever is unlucky enough to survive “
”If Germania and Hesse Seewald win another big one nearby, where will all those Gallian troops be? With the Resistance fighters who always seem to get away, the supposed deserters under Pepperoni and Braunsweiger, and few other friends like Hesse Fedora, I suspect that the Hurtshog will have enough to hold Frankfurter until relieved.”
“So we’re going to double cross the frogs?”
“Only if we have to. We are quite aware that neither Germania nor Hesse Seewald are really all that interested in having a lot of little autonomous duchies to deal with. Now hush. Not a word of this even to Mother or you sister and especially not to Fraulein Busch!” At this point, they open a dark door from which light and laughter spilled.

Back at the rooming house, two nobles carry lamps into the dark sitting room. They are accompanied by a scholar. One of them reveals a prybar and starts to open the barrel.
“Careful, Your Highness!” Johannes urges.
“Somebody has to, and too many have to be hurt for me these days,” the stout man answered.
As the lid rises, a dark powder is revealed. All turn to the scholar who comes forward, lifts a small pinch out and carries it to a lamp where he studies it with a magnifying glass.
“Well, Rabbi?” the other nobleman demands.
“You were right, General,” the scholar answers. “It’s not gunpowder. This looks more like the flash powder they put into fireworks to make the loud noises. Frankly, it could dangerous if somebody charged his piece with a normal measure.”
“Are you positive, Badmann, that the Gallians don’t know about this yet?” the Hurtshog asked.
“I’m not sure,” Badmann responded. “This barrel is marked the same as that spoiled juice that Bastille and all the Gallian peers drink.”
“Then there should barrels like this in the private quarters of almost every Gallian notable around here,” Moose Hunter grunted.
“Do we tell them?” the general asked.
“I’m not sure yet,” the Hurtshog mused. “We do brief our cleaning ladies and so forth right away ... let’s see if we can get this stuff before it goes off. This could be M’Lady’s or Stagonia’s handiwork, but Roquefort has his own nefarious agenda, and we’ve put a monkey wrench in it. He may be looking for some sudden job opportunities for his own agents.”
There was a moment’s silence, and the Hurtshog turned to the scholar. “I’m a bit thin right now, Rabbi,” he said, “but I think that boatman friend of yours and his family ought to spend the next Passover in Jerusalem on a small stipend. Otherwise, let’s get this to a more useful spot. Moose Hunter, Lady Pettygree is nearby. That means M’Lady is too. Hunt her and see if any threads come loose. Guten Nacht!”
The noblemen both walk quickly out of the room and disappear down the hall towards the back of the house.

Frankszonia Driven From Neu Isenberg!

2009-04-21T17:08:00.000-07:00

BATTLE OF NEU ISENBERG : AAR

THIS WAS A PROXY BATTLE ... PLAYED BY "mURDOCK'S mAURADERS". tHERE ARE A SLEW OF LOVELY PICTURES OF THE BATTLE ON HIS BLOG:

The defenders of Neu Isenberg, Frankzonians under the command of Francios l'Marquise de Hottatrot had some advance notice of the coming forces from the Kingdom of Saint Maurice. They made use of the time to erect some improvised defenses along the Frankfurter Strasse before the town of Neu Isenberg. Constructing these defenses on one side of the high road were the militia of Neu Isenberg, never before tested in any battle regimen.

These defences were still under some construction when the troops of St. Maurice came out into the open from the light woods in the area.

Arranged in front of the St. Maurice lines were two battalions of militia forces.

Hidden in a thicker part of the eastern woods were the elite Jay's Jagers, waiting totally concealed.

The battle opened with a cannonade from the St. Maurice battery, which tore a great swath through the exposed ranks of the Hottatrot regiment 1st battalion.

Meanwhile in the woods the Jagers now had the flank company of one of St Maurice's militia regiments totally exposed and in some disorder directly in front of their concealed position. Rising almost as one these marksmen then cut their own deadly swath through the officer and senior NCO's leading these new soldiers. The general response was panic and they turned to flee...only to find the fixed bayonets of the regular line troops directly behind them. They turned to flee away from the continued Jager enfilade fire towards the other battalion of militia.

The response from the other militia force was also to start to panic and flee...only to be cut down almost instantly from the rear by the leveled muskets in volley fire at point blank into their backs! (it was a critical success for the fire shot!)

These totally frightened men then threw down their arms and fled in all directions! (including towards the Frankzonian lines!)

So ended turn 1.

The St. Maurice force was not slowed at all by the chaos in the woods, the main line was advancing on the improvised defenses that still appeared to have men working on them. Upon firing at the troops the Frankfurter Buns took off in all directions away from the battle area, their 'leaders' vainly showing attempts at rally, while running at full speed along the high road after passing into the town. A company of regulars that were completing the works on the other side of the road also ran off in the confusion started by the Buns militia loosing their composure so quickly (it was a critical failure of morale on the militia and a normal fail on the line troops).

Meanwhile in the woods the St. Maurice militia that was running in mobs came close to the edge of the woods and surrendered en-masse to the Frankzonian IR Black Kilts. A detachment of a dozen men was made to form a 'guard' for these surrendering troops and they were mustered to the eastern outskirts of Neu Isenberg.

so ended turn 2

With the advancing line at the high road and the defenses only half-manned there was little opposition to the St. Maurice line troops scrambling over the wooden barricades.

Confusion in the woods had died down and now the St. Maurice lines started to move forward to press on the Jagers.

so ended turn 3

The next action started from the artillery which had been firing all along but only had good effect on the first volley, now this cannonade again struck home, with the Hottatrot 1st again taking more casulaties, this time enough to halt their tentative advance in the woods, as they readied themselves to face St. Maurice foot coming at them through the woods.

The first cavalry clash comes now on the west edge of the defenses. The Gendarmes of St. Maurice clashed with the Frangipani Hussars, who were driven off by the heavier and more skilled Gendarmes.

so ended turn 4

A small rain shower came across the battlefield at this point (I have a 'wonky' light ballast in my gamespace and it went out at this point...also the radio station started playing "Raindrops"), the St. Maurice commander, having decided that the battle was all going in his favor, ordered his two ADC's to return to camp and prepare his tent for the rain. Then when the rain got worse, left his command post, with an orderly remaining behind to simply report back the final effect of the battle. (this was decided after a critical failure in the initiative rolls for the turn).

Overall the battle did not move much at this stage, the Gendarmes drove off Arthur's Hussars and got into good supporting position for the western defenses. The other troops traded musket fire, with one force of the St. Maurice line troops expending their powder (presumably the rain caused more powder problems leaving that battalion without fire capability until they moved to the rear of the battle area ~ for resupply) [they rolled a critical failure on firing, then a normal failure for 'no powder' effect].

so ended turn 5

The tipping point was upon the battle, for the wiley St. Maurice commander had managed to convince a small force of independent dragoons to simply 'make a show' in the woods to the east of Neu Isenberg. It was at this point that their crashing mounts, whistles and shouts could be heard by the Jagers. Frankzonian commander l'Marquise de Hottatrot was also informed and decided that it was time for his "Devil my care" reputation to not be outdone! He ordered an immediate cavalry attack followed by having his personal entourage of Highlander garbed sycophants sweep into the melee.

The first cavalry attacks are badly co-ordinated and the St. Maurice commander on the spot drove his lancers into the flank of the returning Frangipani Hussars, shattering them utterly and sending all of them into a running battle to the west of the town, the Lancers took off in pursuit of prizes.

The Sultan of Swat with the Delft Blues then struck at the ready Gendarmes, the encounter did not go off well. The Blues were obliged to let the St. Maurice line troops fire onto their flank as they advanced, taking down many, then they trotted into contact with the Gendarmes in some disorder. The Sultan was not killed, but dismounted during the engagement and managed to catch on with one of his retreating troopers following the hot engagement.

thus ended turn 6

Now the Highlanders were going in without any support.

First the Gendarmes laughed at their small numbers approach, after a few troopers dropped from the accurate small-arms fire and they saw the claymores come out...all of them drew pistols and sent the kilt clad brave men off into the buildings for cover.

With the unknown dragoon force pressing in from the west and the St. Maurice Kings troops holding the edge of the town, running out of any troops to actually take action with, Francios l'Marquise de Hottatrot ordered the general retreat and left the area to the north. Leaving Neu Isenberg in the hands of St. Maurice, yet not without cost as the prisoners were also herded along with the main body.

End result:

Neu Isenberg now in the hands of St. Maurice.
Losses:
St. Maurice: 2bn militia
Some cavalry in the Gendarmes and Lancers (who will be at least a day before they can even form up again [with lots of loot!])
Some line infantry, perhaps a company KIA, with 2 companies wounded. No forces are fresh and no pursuit is possible.
Frankzonia: 1bn Line troops KIA
1bn Militia scattered over the area to the north
Frangipani Hussars were really badly mauled by both the Gendarmes and Lancers (they were broken morale and hit in the back!) ~ I suspect they did not get away at all.
Arthur's Hussars were wounded, but not mauled.
The Blues were decimated by musket and sabre, 50% casualties and wounds to nearly everyone else.
No troops came away without casualty, they were not in good order as a body of men on retreat, only two battalions of Line were in any sort of order.

No effective defensive line would be available for 2 days from these troops.

+++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

The commands were split between two players on each side and I did "Kreigspeil" using a rough set of notes and my own 'hybrid' system based on Envoy and GURPS ~ so as to allow some of the very colorful character elements that Frankzonian commanders have to perhaps shine through, sorry if not much made it to the tabletop = there is just soooo much to work with!

Interesting note regarding the players, twin sisters took opposing sides during the battle and I am interested in hearing from them about their game-play experience.

so ends this AAR.

Comments are encouraged!
Posted by MurdocK at 8:47 PM

Cheezers .... the Munster Brigade planned

2009-04-10T16:23:00.000-07:00

The Munster Brigade

Major General Gross Karl Kaze
(Big Chucky Cheese)

Cavalry (uniforms yet to be developed, but with Yellow coats)

* Die Kliene Dragonen

* Die Helle Hunden
(Hussars, Warg Riders)

* Die NachtMaren
(Cuirassiers ... skeleton and headless)

Infantry

* Consolidated Guild Companies
(Blocks of skeletons, vampires, mummies, werewolves, wererats, Gnolls, goblins, etc.
No kobolds! Kobolds, Gygax’s fevered delusions not withstanding, are nasty version of small dwarves, and my late, sainted friend, Brian would be terribly upset to see my dwarf figures in such company).

(The following two units will be painted with pastel blue or purple skin, red eyes, orange wigs. Officers will have red tricornes with black lace and pom).

* Die Fleische Snackern
Black coat with orange turnbacks, etc.; Red Trews; black gaiters; black tricorne with red lace and white pom-pom

* Die Moonie Bowern
Grey with yellow turnbacks; Pink Trews, Black gaiters, black tricorne with gang green lace.

An interview with Intendant Bastille

2009-03-28T12:31:00.000-07:00

Once again, the enigmatic Master Peter has come to see the Intendant. This time, he is accompanied by a tall, grey haired man with obvious military bearing and a pretty young woman with red-gold hair. Even though the spring thaw has turned the roads into muddy streams, their clean clothing speaks of traveling in a closed coach.

The Intendant examines them curiously. All Master Peter had told him was that these people had requested a private meeting to occur before the Hurtshog returned from the conflict with St. Maurice.
M. Peter: M'Lord, may a I present to you the Baron Grey and the Lady Rose?
Bastille: Nommes d'guerre?
Grey: (with a wry smile) sort of, my Lord. Sort of.
Bastille: (irritated grunt) Very well, if it must be so. What is it that you wish to speak about?
Rose: Your captives.
Bastille: My captives?
Grey: Yes, my lord. We wish to negotiate a prisoner exchange for our heroes in your dungeon.
Bastille: Prisoner exchange? (angrily) that's for soldiers, not treacherous plotters!
Rose: (angrily) Treacherous to who? We are not Gallians!! You ...
Grey: (Interrupting and placing a hand on Roses' shoulder) These people are captives taken because they've resisted an alien occupation of their homeland. They are not thieves, they did not try to overthrow your king. They thus share the same status as the musketeers in Hesse Seewald's line.
Bastille: (sardonic) I doubt that the Hurtshog would take such a view.
Rose: Then let them be held in a Frankfurter house and tried by a Frankfurter court, not immured in a Gallian cell.
Bastille: These people were found to be a threat to our lines and to our troops. We can't just let them go.
Grey: But what did any of them actually do? Not as much as a single battalion of Grenz or a squadron Hussars! And those men would be eligible for prisoner exchange.
Bastille: I do not have the authority to actually conduct such negotiation. I will however speak with Gen. Broglie concerning this, and I'm sure M. Peter will be glad to communicate anything further to you.
Rose: May we at least see the prisoners and do what we can to comfort them?
Bastille: A natural request (assumes stern stance) but at the present moment, out of the question.
Grey: We may not even see them?
Bastille: M. Peter will communicate with you. The question is not closed, I assure you; but at this time I cannot continue this conversation.
Rose: But ...
Bastille: You are dismissed, my lady!
Bastille rings a bell and guards enter the room, they escort M. Peter and his party out.
Bastille: (pacing) now here's a pretty kettle of fish. I wonder how the Hurtshog's court will take this complication. His spies are as pernicious as fleas!

Frankfurters at Neu Isenberg

2009-03-21T16:08:00.000-07:00

Murdock is going to start his resolution of this conflict this week ...

Frontier force at the village of Neu Isenberg. If the raids continue, the Hurtshog will attempt a defensive stance until the situation at Hausen is resolved and then drive on Sprendlingen in the Kingdom of St. Maurice. (Note, these are on real world maps south of Frankfurt am Main)

Major General
* Francios l'Marquise de Hottatrot: (1) Lewd, plain looking but not fat; a gourmet but
flatulent. Maintains a couple of ballerinas and is very keen on dance. Devil may care, reckless,
audacious, etc cavalry man. Secretly fond of Rhine Wines.
Awarded the Grilled Frankfurter for his agressive initiative and fight even though seriously wounded at the Battle of Bad Tannes ... now an initiative +1
Another tragic family secret is connected to some rumors:
a: he was born before his parents were married;
b: perhaps his real parents never did marry;
c: but his legal mom and dad dote on each other and are quite sensitive so he can't openly
research the problem ...
d: rumor also has it that his dandified legal father is more fond of young boys than girls ...
Brilliant at intrigue, he tends to be a major factor in Frankszonia undercover organs.

Cavalry:
Gen:
* The Sultan of Swat (1)(Balkan mercenary, very important for the trade in Sesame Seeds)
* Col. Fruglich
* Delft Blues:
lt blue coat, white cuffs, lapels and collar, lemon yellow waistcoat an breeches
(Dragoons, trained, @ 800 men)
* Frangipani Hussars; (7) (veterans, @ 750 men)
,- blue coat, red leggings and cuffs
Coat = blue; Trim = red Tunic = red; trews = yellow; boots = black; hat = red
* Arthur’s Hussars: Green / yellow outfit with Red hat bag
(Trained, @ 750 men)

Infantry:
* Roderick Woad, Earl of Hiccup: (1) : Dictatorial commander, very loyal to friends and
chivalric to ladies (has one great love he keeps secret). Thirsts for violence, highly aggressive
and is a duelist. Will always dash towards the sound of firing. Surrounded by sycophants and
misfits, which he keeps trying to train to elite status to be forlorn hopes.. .. in his
pseudo-Highlander regiment, the Black Skirts.
He loves to give bombastic speeches in which he denounces his foes as weaklings, milksops,
and namby-pambies. Secretly, he writes poetry ... very bad poetry. But he also writes satiric
limericks about his foes which he gets some loud sergeant to shout out over the field during
deployment ...
Note: Currently in service with Frankszonia because of Jacobite leanings ....

Col. Frazzle (nee Hottatrot):
* IR Black Kilts (2nd battalion, veteran (elite first held with Guards) @ 600 men)
Yellow tunic, Black Kilts, brown / red caps.
* IR Hottatrot (1st Battalion, veteran @ 600 men, Prussian style uniforms)
Blue / red yellow white black/ yellow
* Brig. Nathan (0) (a brigadier who is often placed in charge of local militia and fortresses).
* Grenadiers: (elite, converged battalion, @ 600 men)
* Frankfurter Buns: (Militia, either Prussian or Reichsarmee style uniforms, @ 600+)
* Jay’s Jaegers: (Rifle, skirmish, elite or veteran, @5-700 men depending on attachments)

Spring storms gather ..

2009-03-04T18:35:00.000-08:00

Having been trapped outside of Frankszonia by the sudden onset of a major ice storm, and then delayed in his return by a serious illness of his mother in law, The Hurtshog has returned to his capital to oversee the continued strengthening of his southern border.
The troops there report finding more destroyed farms, but the enemy has proven skillfull in evading their patrols.
Worse yet, there are reports that the poor farmers and their families were mutilated. There are even rumors of cannibalism! These atrocities must be halted! His Majesty Louis-Philippe must be brought to a sense of his responsibilities!

and how cold was it?

2009-03-03T12:24:00.001-08:00

The month of February has been pretty much a gaming wash out for me.
Between fleeing the Ice Storm, going to funerals, and standing by during the Ma in Law's hectic hospital stay, I've not been home much ... and not done any painting at all.
I'm getting back to things now, I hope. The trip to the SYW convention is pretty much lost, durn it.

But a note on "Later in the Day Saints." In addition to the vital passage in Acts, "It's too early in the day to be drunk," There's also a Proverb which states that "he who blesses his brethren loudly before the Morning Prayers, it is accounted unto him as a curse."

:)
A

Intelligence? from the Kingdom of St. Maurice ...

2009-02-18T20:19:00.000-08:00

Even though an ice storm worse than any in memory has ravaged the forests and pinned Frankszonian forces in place for over two weeks, clearing weather has permitted road repairs and travel to resume. The Hurtshog's intelligence services reported this event ...

Ye Gods and Little Fishes!!" His Majesty lept to his feet, instantly dropping the lady Irmintraut ignobly to the floor. He has just received the formal complaint, delivered by Col Brattman, with his usual aplomb. "Do these cabbage-eaters seriously believe that a few itinerate zombies loitering about and having a little fun seriously constitutes a raid? We of St. Maurice have more serious concerns than to pick fights with lessers." He immediately handed over the colonel for a complementary proctology examination, and has dispatched General Blase, le Comte du Monte Python, along with a detatchment of the Kilbasa Lancers, to Frankszonia, to make clear His Majesty's displeasure over this while affair, and to indicate in no uncertain terms that the disruption of St. maurician commerce will not be tolerated. After all, the sale of 18th century action figures and other useless baubles is critical to the income of the realm. More as it develops.

The Hurtshog, knowing that his subjects continue to suffer and anxious over the welfare of isolated farmsteads in the broken forests, is extremely irritated by this report. "So, Maurice is going to try to intimidate us ... by claiming that it can't control zombies?!?" The Hurtshog snorts. "As soon as we can manuever some infantry support and light guns into the area, inform the cavalry officers that they are authorized to pursue these raiders across the border!"

The Burger Master steps forward, "Perhaps, Sire," he begins diffidently, "these Gallians around the Intendant would be happy to import their Parisan knick knacks and figurines duty free until the Kingdom of St. Maurice assumes a more reasonable attitude?"
"That's an idea," the Hurtshog concedes, "but I'd hate to disappoint the Urprinz. He's just old enough to like those action figures. We'll wait till young Hillegekiene makes his official report before holding a formal council on this."

Amid the mounting tensions, General Nathan begins to review the roster of his Nationals ... much of the militia will not respond to a new call, having already served in the Ginnheim campaign.

Frankfurters on the Boil, Again!

2009-01-24T18:04:00.000-08:00

Frankfurters on the Boil Again!

After a muted celebration of the minor victory at Ginnheim, the Burger Masters are concerned with the closeness of the Hesse Seewald army. While Marshal Broglie’s forces are still extremely strong, there is no escaping the fact that the Seewald generals have had a string of successes. Given the strong anti-Gallian and anti-Imperial sentiments among parts of the population (especially the Anglericans), the situation is very unstable. The town leaders are grateful that the anti-Gallian resistance and the odiferous Cheezers are retreating!

An angry deputation, however, has come to the Intendant Bastille. They are supported by an irate crowd in the streets. Ragged refugees have arrived in Sachsenhausen across the bridge. Raiders from St. Maurice are ravaging farmsteads in the southern forests! The Frankszonian landholders demand Gallian action to control this insidious backstabbing which is so similar to the Stagonian vileness!

Once again, the Militia drums are beating and forces are being led south by the flamboyant Marquis d’ Hottatrot. The Hurtshog is racing back to the city with his Guard corps and some other troops.

While Col. Brattman is dispatched to the Kingdom of St. Maurice with an angry protest, l’Comte d’Beauphaup has all merchants from St. Maurice called into the palace. “Due to the current outrages, murders, and devastation occurring in the Teuische Heeren Waldt,” he announces, “all assets of subjects of the Kingdom of St. Maurice are being appropriated at this time.”
After the outraged protests of the merchants have been somewhat stilled by the cocking of the gendarmes’ carbines, he continues, “your property may be redeemed by ransom, and anything not dispersed during this emergency will be returned when proper reparations are obtained from your King. In the meantime, it is highly advised that you depart Frankszonian territory by nightfall.”

This brings more protests, as the roads south are now closed by Frankszonian troops. Beauphaup, however, points out that Offenbach is but a few hours ride away on the south bank of the Main and would be an excellent refuge. The skeptics in the group are also grimly aware that the Soweiter League and Frankszonia have become very friendly since the Tipple Bruder affair.

The farsighted in Frankfurter’s church steeples can discern plumes of smoke rising above the wooded hills a long way to the south .....

(Note: by and large, the place names used here are actual places near Frankfurt ... we’re hoping to generate a new proxy game ... arising from the fact that the zombie outbreak in St. Maurice is in an area close to the Frankszonian territory).

Ginnheim Fallout

2009-01-24T18:02:00.000-08:00

After the engagement at Ginnheim, insignificant in itself, dramatic events developed in Frankszonia.

First of all, the Cheezer alliance foundered on the choice of withdrawel routes. The Limburger Brigade and Gen. Michel O’Maus chose to fall back towards Hesse Fedora. The Resistance and the local forces, however, retired toward their base at Rodelheim (formerly called Russelheim in my blog, as the name was unreadable on the earlier maps in my possesion). Not only had this been their primary base for two years, but also it had the advantage of a complete water defense plus its not quite so ancient fortifications.

The Hurtshog and his generals decided to let the Limburger brigade make its withdrawel undisturbed. Not only was its route into Hesse Fedora protected by diplomatic complications (while Hesse Fedora and Frankszonia are in opposing big power alliances, they have a long history of local cooperation), but also that route took the Limburgers into the operational zone of Gen. Broglie.
Meanwhile, Gen Phaulie with his force of Fusiliers, Freikorps, and Hebrew Nationals had been force marching to the south of Ginnheim in a wide turning movement. As a result, they were able to reach the Nidda River at Hausen and cut off the retreat of the Resistance forces. While this battle has not been resolved (see earlier post), the only real question is whether or not enough of the Resistance will escape to make the defense of Rodelheim feasible.

News has reached the Hurtshog, however, which has force him to greatly weaken the pursuit of the Resistance from Ginnheim. Raiders from the Kingdom of St. Maurice have been devastating isolated farmsteads in the Teuische Heeren Waldt (part of the Frankszonian Stadt Waldt)!
Leaving Von Ballpark’s Brigade, most of the Cuirassiers and the Porcelain Dragoons to continue the pursuit of the Resistance under the capable command Gen. Meyer, the Hurtshog hastens back to Frankfurter with the Guard Corps, the grenadiers, the Black Kilts, and a Hussar Brigade.
This is not so much to reinforce the city’s defenses against the looming forces of Hesse Seewald as provide an adequate stiffener to Hottatrot’s brigade and the militia forces in Frankfurt.
These are ordered to probe in advance of the Hurtshog towards the village of Neu Isenberg. If the raids continue, the Hurtshog will attempt a defensive stance until the situation at Hausen is resolved and then drive on Sprendlingen in the Kingdom of St. Maurice.

Meanwhile, l’Comte d’ Beauphaup has summoned the merchants from St. Maurice who happen to be in the City, and informed them that their assets are being seized until a settlement for reparations are made with the Kingdom of St. Maurice.

Recent Developments

2009-01-23T13:18:00.000-08:00

Shortly afte my last post, I was hospitilized again ... a pesky and dangerous virus.
Fortunately, I acted in time and was home by Christmas. Recovery, however, has been slow and I haven't touched a paintbroush since! Alas!

Shortly before that incident, however, I did resolve the Battle of Ginnheim ... which, thanks to the initiative rules of Koenigs Krieg did NOT go the way I thought it would at all. I'd planned a big infantry collision with a Cheezer cavalry flank sweep. Unfortunately, the Cheezers were forced to reveal the cavalry concentration too early ... leading to a cavalry fight for the hill dominating the right of the Frankfurter line.
On turn three, an unbelievably effective cannon volley staggered the Cheezer cavalry brigades, which then were routed on the next turn by a throw away charge of also battered Frankszonian Hussars. Due to the flank threat, the Frankfurter line had not advanced, and the cheezers were able to make an orderly withdrawel ... Unfortunately, for once Edie's pictures didn't turn out good ... the lighting was inadequate and off color.

But now, they're headed right into Phaulie's Fusiliers and the Hebrew Nationals who were sent on a wide turning movement on the other flank! Assiming I continue to recover, this means another exciting collision in February ... Phaulie has to hold long enough to catch the Cheezers between him and the Hurtshog's pursuing forces!

On the Diplomatic front:

Diplomat from Cavenderia

“Lucio Bianco, is known for his pleasant demeanor and devotion to the Catholic Church, his family has been in this land pre-dating the Imperium. His even temper and ability to diffuse a situation have made him an ideal candidate for your diplomatic corp. Signori Bianco will be sent to Frankszonia.

We will of course welcom him with a grand Barbeque, a Te Deum Toast, and an Holy Mackerel Fish Fry!

:)
A

An Extemporaneous Effusion on the Passing of King Maurice DeVille

2008-12-18T21:57:00.000-08:00

An Extemporaneous Effusion on the Passing of King Maurice DeVille

(Note: Frankszonian officials insist that this broadsheet which appeared on the doors of some local taverns does not accurately represent any of the poetic tributes offered at the official “Drink to That” event ... though they can’t seem to find anybody who remembers those very clearly ....)

Old King Maurice of Stagonia is dead now, alas!
Pity their girls of their working nights class:
Who must now half their prices
For duration of the crisis.
For what species will King Fred prefer in His bed?

Mad Maurice, alas, has horribly died.
Stagonia insists that it Was a suicide.
Of Course that is true,
For surely, just like you,
New King Fred is sadly aware of how he tried!

Stagonian nights must be terribly depraved.
Their Kings have become so sickly and afraid,
So filled with depravity
They catch their decaptivity
With bracelets behind so shiny and engraved.

—

In other news ....

Though the court does not wish to start the Witch Hysterias anew, it has taken notice of the purported activities of the recently ascended King Frederick De Vile of Stagonia.
As a consequence, we are recruiting specialists from the Rabbinate and also will encourage quarterly competitions in composing and painting distelfinks ... (probably spelt wrong ... those are the colorful, kaleidoscopic patterns used by the “Pennsylvania Dutch” and their German forbears to attract good spirits and drive off bad ones).

Battle of Sharp (Cheese) burg

2008-12-11T21:28:00.001-08:00

Battle of Sharpcheeseberg

Forces involved:
(note, battle used 25 mm figures ... no pictures, wife was asleep with a cold)
Frankszonia:
* Brigadier Chicken
* I/R Sanders/Chicken: 1 battalions x 12 figs @ (5) (rebuilt after Siefriedsburg)
Blue / red; Yellow / yellow black black/white
* I R Footlongs: 1 battalions x12 figs @ (5)
Blue/Yellow white/white black/white black/white
*Bangers Jaegers 1 Battalion x 8 figures @ (6)
Blue / buff white / black black / na

Cheezers:
* Michael O’Mouse
* Bitischerwurst composite Grenadiers x 10 figures @ (6)
** I/R Gruenkaze 2 bats x 10 figures @ (5)
Dark green / light green Light green / black bronze helment
(actually, used figures for a jaeger unit)

No artillery nor cavalry involved in this skirmish.
Notice that the more flexible basing of 25 mm permitted the use of “10 figure battalions”.

Battlefield Terrain.

in the north, a road runs from Hesse Fedora (to the west) east to west across the board ... Sharpcheeseberg is in the middle.
From Sharpcheeseberg, another road runs south, but takes a sharp turn east towards the bottom o f the board, swinging behind a hill, and exits in the southeast.
Squeezed in between the road and the board edge in the northwest beyond Sharpcheeseberg is another hill.
An hedgerow runs from Sharpcheeseberg southwest to the board’s edge. In the southwest quadrant is also a small woods.

Opening Dispositions and Missions:
* Frankszonia:
Bangers Jaegers start in Sharpcheeseberg, their orders are to advance to the woods in the southwest to fire on any approaching Cheezers.
The Foot Longs and the Chicken/Sanders battalions are to concentrate in the fields south of Sharpcheeseberg to act as a blocking force to any columns trying to reach the Hesse Seewald forces or trying to strike Gen. Broglie or Gen. Chevert from behind.
* Cheezers:
March into Sharpcheeseberg and probe for less defended route to link with either Hesse Seewald or Hesse Fedora.

The Action:

As the Bangers barge down the road, they suddenly observe a column of Britscherwurst grenadiers headed their way! Horrors! A messenger dashes back to Brig. Chicken who exclaims “Boiled Sausages! Burn them! Quickly, deploy into a skirmish line and delay them!”

Seeing the Frankszonian activity up the road, Gen O’Maus proclaims in his squeaky tenor: “Okay, Men! by the numbers at my signal, Deploy into line of battle.... Deploy!”
“B... b... but of course,” Major Goofey chuckles. “We’ll soon show THEM, eh Mickey?”
“Watch your posture, Major,” the General warned. “This could be serious.”

Even as Brig. Chicken fires up Col. Sanders Original battalion to line up in support of the Jaegers, they observe battalions of the Gruen Kaze regiment hurrying up behind the Britscherwurst. “Brats!” Gen. Chicken exclaimed, “With Green Cheese!” Seeing that one of the G.K. battalions is heading for the hedgerow which obliquely flanks the road south, he orders the FootLong battalion to seize the hedgerow itself also. Colonel Nathan hurried up to Chicken and asked whether the enemy was heading for the Hesse Seewald or Hesse Fedora encampment. The General angrily replied, “the only place those Hussies are going is back home!”

As the Britischerwurst line advanced, the Jaegers cut loose with wild and inaccurate fire. Seeing a line of regulars forming behind the skirmishers, however, the Britischerwurst line halted and responded with an equally futile volley. Gen. Chicken, observing the close advance of the grenadiers decided to spare his Jaegers and ordered them to retire behind the flank of the Sanders battalion, between them and the FootLongs. On the other side, however, O’Maus decided to spare his grenadiers for a more opportune moment and advanced the 2nd battalion of the Gruen Kazes beyond the grenadiers. These G.K. troops had hardly moved into position when the Col. Sanders Chicken Battalion hit them with a close volley.

Meanwhile, along the hedgerow, the 2nd G.K. battalion was engaged in a firefight from one end of the obstacle against the Footlongs advancing from the other end. The Footlongs were at a disadvantage as they were still in an attack column formation. Brig. Chicken drifted over towards the Footlongs to observe their condition. Seeing Chicken seem to leg it aside, O’Maus ordered the1st Battalion GK> to charge, but battered in the Footlong’s fire, they hesitated.
Chicken squawked, “at them!” when he observed this. On the side, he ordered the Bangers Jaegers to move onto the G.K. flank and fire and afterwards Sanders to charge them. “Chew the breading off of them!” he encouraged the men.

Under the combination order, the 1st G.K. reeled back past the Britscherwurst grenadiers. In their turn, the grenadiers grilled the Frankfurters with a deadly close volley. Chicken, however, had joined the Footlongs and urged them to charge into the 2nd G.K. which was disrupted by its clambering through the brush and bank of the hedgrow. The Footlongs slammed into the highly nettled 2nd G.K. and stung them badly.

Suddenly, O’Maus found that his Britscherwurst veterans were the only still viable unit left to him. Since Col. Sanders seemed still to be cooling down from its exchange, O’Mause had the grenadiers about face and confront the Footlongs as they emerged froms the hedgerow’s stinging nettles. The Footlongs, with their brigadier still with them, rapidly formed line and began a lively firefight.
Without the brigadier’s influence, however, Col. Sanders had difficulty blowing up the coals in his men to advance. The Bangers Jaegers advanced to harry the rear of the grenadiers. which prevented them from driving back the Footlongs. On the other hand, one of the Green Cheese battalions had clumped enough together to open an enfilade fire on the Footlongs as well.

Smoked by this combined fire, Brig. Chicken did not observe Gen. O’Maus quickly turning his grenadiers and retiring among the G.K. remnants. Together, the Cheezy force managed to string off the field though fully battered and fried.

Parrse in Rear View Mirror ...

2008-12-07T09:05:00.001-08:00

These K.K. 12 man battalions are assembled from approximately three or four boxes of Revell Prussians. In spite of the quite different figures in each battalion, their placement provides the illusion of an active battle line.
The formation is pictured twice.
This top picture reveals the immance of the Cat-atstrophe, Tweety Pie ...

Grenadiers of the Sage Guard being blessed ... a demi battalion that I'd hoped to use in Texas.

The figures are Mindend Minatures Prussians.

Grenadiers of the Sage Guard ... a break down showing how they can be based for a Koenig's Krieg battalion.

Blessing of the guns: I believe this is the correct size for 25 mm artillery bases.

The Artillery Park:

Still too small a collection in 25mm, and the Revell Austrian Artillery on the left are on bases which I think are too small.

The Light Infantry:

Pioneers in front, Officials on the Right, notice that at 25mm one can use individual bases ... given that these are light troops, there are also double bases. Basically one regular 15mm base easily accomodates the 25 mm figures ... so one 25mm figure would take exactly the basing for 4 15mm figures.

Blessing of the Lights:

The first short line behind the officers are Revell Austrian pioneers, several of the officers are modified artillerymen. The parson is in black and white.

Some officious officials: (also Revell figures)

Breaking the sequence, the Limburger Brigade of the Cheezers.

15 mm Minifigs, French figures w/out turnbacks. The disordered appearance to give several views, but by family custom, some figure(s) are always based aimed in the wrong direction! LOL

When I began, I was woefully short on 25 mm artillery. So whipped these babies up in Chenile craft with those ugle Giant of Hong Kong figures. The gunners are about 20 mm, the dice is about an inch high for scale. The basing is correct for 25 mm artillery.

I've mentioned on occasion the special command vehicle used by Frankszonia ... here is an example with a 25mm figure (exact same vehicles used in 15 mm are more impressive at that scale).

And, of course, the 15mm; 2nd squadron of the One Fifth Light Dragoons ...

(Since the Anglerican denomination dominates the Britischerwurst, and whereever you find four, you'll find a fifth ...)

Some more Bad LImericks ...

2008-11-23T10:59:00.000-08:00

As the armies approach each other at Ginnheim, a dragoon suddenly gallops into No Man's Land with a megaphone and shouts:

This Resistance defends our Autonomy
Though all that they have is a monotony
Of Adulterous beggars
And soldiers with staggers
From indulging their officer's $#!@%y!

and

Poor Mary of the Rose and her Parseleigh
Are heroes, I'm sure, but just partially;
For their friends are so horrible
With habits incoorrigible
That even Stagonia treats them harsly!

He quickly darts back towards the approaching Black Kilts before any marksman can catch him ....

progress report

2008-11-18T22:09:00.001-08:00

For the forthcoming battle of Ginnheim, I've wrapped up some of the project I started back before I got slapped into the horse pistol ...
in 15's, 48 "militia" being Minifig French without turnbacks)and 8 more mounted British 5th lights (to go with my Britscherwurst 1/5 lights)

Unfortunately, during one of my enforced absences, the cats got into a turf dispute ... and a few of them decided to debate possession of my green / grass cloth. So I'll need to wait till it dries out to complete the game (the manuever phase is over, the Cheezers can hit first, but if Gen Woad (my wife) outlasts their assault, he'll soon be able to crush them into the Nidda river ....
:)\
A

Ein Appeal zu der Volksrad

2008-11-18T22:07:00.000-08:00

A personal message from the Hurtshog Stanken Fahrtz v. Frankfurter to the Deutsche Adelborn (German nobility):

My dear Cousins:

It has come to our attention that some consider Frankszonia to be an imperialist, aggressor state. This seems to have arisen due to our campaign to create a Super Sized Fry Stadt.
Ironically, this mis apprehension devolves from our desire to create a less plastic situation in which the dignity and freshness of our Folk is swallowed up by some six million strong ogre. Indeed, even though we in Frankszonia are ourselves perforce occupied by the Gallian hordes, one may notice that our struggles are often with our soi distant allies therein who have been caught undermining the autonomy of a local franchise.
Indeed, unlike other self proclaimed defenders of the Deutsche Mark, almost before the furor of conflict has fallen silent, the leaders of our neighbors have found themselves in the Frankfurter Bun, with the flavor of their office and authority enhanced rather than reduced.
Come, the Kreis are sounding for the defense of the Empress and our Graftsen. We are one Folk. Let us all go together in one Folk’s Wagon!

Sincerely,
Hzg. F v Frankfurter

Eventual Events

2008-10-28T14:28:00.000-07:00

First, on the Frankszonia blog, I've updated the lists and profiles of folks who are supporting the Elector versus Gallia inside Frankszonia.

About this time,Baron Wiffen Fhartz von Inkblot zu Grossen and General Braunschweiger should show up in the Germanian headquarters seeking an audience with the Elector and the duke of Hesse Seewald.

Also, while Gen. Broglie and the Intendant Bastille are in conference, they are interrrupted by a commotion. An officer barges into the room with a sergeant and an old Moustache. The enlisted men's uniforms are spattered with blood.

"Report!" barks Broglie.
"Sire" the officer salutes clumsily, "there's been an poison attempt. These clods killed the poisoner before we could question him."
"Pour Certament!" exlaims Bastille.
"No! No!" the Moustache pleads.
"Sire!" the sergeant complains, "we caught him in the act of dosing the officer's mess kettle. We took him alive in spite of his struggles, but as we were forcing him into the hall, his blood suddenly spurted all over us. None of my men had so much as drawn a bayonet!"
"This note was found upon the assasin, my Lords," the officer contiued.
Gen. Broglie takes the scrap and reads, "Die Reine geffallen am der Main."

Bastille chokes for a moment as he wonders, is this the hand of the infamous Stille Fhartz or another nefarious bit of Frankszonian politics?

Meanwhile, the Hurtshog with his main forces is almost a day's march to the northwest, approaching Ginnheim. They hope to disperse the concentration of Resistance, Cheezers, and Hang Overians who are in an entrenched camp in the woods near Russelheim.

Known Friends of Germania and Hesse Seewald in Frankszonian Circles

2008-10-28T14:05:00.000-07:00

Given the approach of the Hesse Seewald forces to within a good day's march of Frankfurter, the list of leaders of the anti-Gallian faction becomes more important.
The first part of the list are the relatives who have been assigned by the family to represent and to defend the family interests in the camp of the other side ...

* Cousins:

ReichsHerr Stille Fhartz ... a Germanian sympathizer and political intriguer who employs silent but deadly assasins.

Baron Wiffen Fhartz von Inkblot zu grossen: an elderly cousin who has been selected to become the position holder in case of Germanian victory at Frankfurt.

Hauptman Eyewassher Fhartz von Inkblot zu Grossen: son of the Baron. Nimble and a good ballroom dancer whose coup de oeil seems to apply more to the boudoir than to the battlefield.

Graf Ick Fhartz von Putterin: A scholar and horse breeder whose specialty is not causing trouble for anybody stronger than himself.

Baron Keine Fhartz von Baumb Middle aged, exitable and irrascible. His fortune derived from being a silent partner in several breweries.

* Pro - Germanian Military defectors:

* Lt. Gen. Pepperoni (an immigrant Italian family, very fussy ... Not from Salamis, which I think
is a Grecian town, but has family connections with Bologna ... ); Just promoted to command the
Wiener Front. (Now deserted to “Elector” forces)
* General Braunsweiger (1) (a Deli-ight of the Brand Name Burgers Alliance, considered an
expert in combined arms operations, but often is kept in fixed fortifications where - tho highly
successful - his units often get sliced quite thinly). (now deserted to Germania, as he is a fan of all things from Bar Line. He may have good knowledge of Frankfurter’s fortifications ).

** leaders of the anti-Gallian nobles ...
which may be of interest to neighbors as they're seeking to hire mercs:
* Hans Muckiethaler: evil banker who is generating instability hoping to be able to control the stadt bundt if the Duchy falls.
* Sagehunde Thyme, Graf von Eischerheim: elderly but vigorous veteran, will be the C.O. of the noble resistance.
* Oberst Weis Parsliegh: brave, honorable, smart ... the white knight of the noble resistance.
* Lady Rosen Mariah: the fiery young beauty who seems to be the unacknowledged princess of the resistance.
* Oberst Von Trollop: commander of the various companies of cuirassiers who have gathered in the nobles’ resistance.
* Graf V, Pfalz: has raised an infantry regiment, publically to be a Freikorps, actually as part of resistance.
* V, Fisch: Leads the Fisch Freircorps. Relatives to the well traveled Lord and Lady Fischer from Britischerwrust.
* V. Graphk: Leads the Graphk Cuirassiers, composed primarily of retired and semi retired gentry, widely known for their colorful outfit and language.

Roquefort

2008-10-20T09:02:00.000-07:00

The lair of that fiend, Roquefort ...

Fiendish Flags

2008-10-20T08:22:00.000-07:00

Perhaps its time to post the flags for the Cheezey Faction.
First, the Cheezey flag, of course:

Then the flag for Limburger:

the 3 "R's": Ribaldry, raiding, rioting

2008-10-16T14:09:00.000-07:00

Since a recent inquiry was made into the nature of higher education in Frankszonia, we offer these insights ....

While Frankszonia has its university, inherited from the Dark Ages it seems (especially when one considers the curriculum), the Hurtshog Fahrtz uses it primarily for training cadets in engineering, mapping, and staff work. Of course, it also produces a useful crop of lawyers and courtiers for those rare times of Imperial council and coronation ...
Otherwise, he's focusing his efforts at developing apprenticeship programs among the trade guilds and importing artisans of new industries ...
speaking of which, in addition to the ceramics, sausages, and foundry, I've decided to invest in bookbinding and printing efforts (after all the major book fair of Europe is held in Frankfurt).
:)
l'Comte de Beauphaup ....

Murky Mists of Miscellaneous Malfeasance ...

2008-09-30T22:59:00.000-07:00

Murky Mists of Miscellaneous Malfeasance ...

A couple of folks have said that they’ve lost track of the various alliances and plots and counter plots in Frankszonia ... but the situation has to be spicy so that the sausage keeps well and doesn’t get too greasy!

Anyway, the first and foremost consideration is the position of the Hurtshog Fahrtz and his court. Bluntly, they’re pro-Frankszonia. Since we’re occupied by the Gallians at the moment ... whose occupation force ranges from five to ten times the number of troops we can raise, we’re perforce Pro-Gallian. Just as in historical Frankfurt, the loyalty of Frankszonia to the Empress depends upon whom is speaking and the situation ....

However, since Frankszonia was originally established as a mini-Prussia copy cat, the story line factored in all those Old Germanian Connections once Bill and der Alte generously decided to admit my humorous side show long ago ... in the pre EvE blog days! So, after some hare raising coup attempts pestered the Gen. Chevert and later the poor Intendant. In addition to the aristocracy based anti-Gallian “resistance” (who are now trying to connect with other anti-Gallian forces such as Hesse-Seewald), one must also consider the republican tendencies of the Merchants Guilds. Even more than the poor Hurtshog, they’re interested in the main chance and the highest bidder.

Now in addition to these factions inside Frankszonia, my gaming had already created the “Cheezers” ... including Limburger, Muenster, etc. Their activities were co-ordinated by the rascally Marquis de Roquefort who seems to have access to some great treasury. At the moment, the Cheezers are definitely on the side of Hesse-Seewald. The original Frankfurter alliance, however, had included the Britischerwurst and Hungover forces. These left our alliance at the outbreak of the Gallian / Seewald war, though we retain friendly correspondence.

Similarly, Frankszonia in the purely small country world had held long friendships with Hesse-Fedora and some other groups which are very pro-Germanian, and equally deep antagonisms with Vile Stagonia and other pro-Gallian local potentates. (Hence the Offenbach and TippleBruder affairs).

So on the outside chance I ever can get to the big games (which this latest hospital episode has thrown into doubt), there’s a Frankszonian Ducal army which would fight stoutly (and has fought stoutly) on behalf of Gallia ... (unless it’s right beside some Vile Stagonian unit, in which case we’d probably concentrate on very cautious maintenance of our position).
There is also a very strong force of infantry and cavalry following several of the emigre officers in the Resistance who would cheerfully fight fanatically against the Gallian gall.... (including those lick spittle petty puppets of the Hurtshog’s court) ....

So, as you can see, it’s all really quite simple. Not at all like the religious currents flowing up and down the Main ....

:P
A

Phaulie's Folly and Doubt at the Redoubt

2008-09-24T20:44:00.000-07:00

Encounter before GinnHeim:

(sorry, no pictures ... batteries were flat)
Pursuing the enemy columns after Abbot’s field, the Frankszonain forces encountered the remnants of their former foes defending a redoubt which covered the approaches to a river crossing.

Gen. Meyer decided to hold back his cavalry and to commit his forward infantry elements to storm the redoubt.

Frankszonians:
* M. Gen. Ziegfeldt von Phaulie: (0) Wears a monocle on a silk cord.
Has solid tactical skills, but very "by the book." When pressed, however, will try something
unconventional "for the sport of it." He has a solid infantry record.
Fond of schnapps (2 hip flasks ... after all, one has two hips, Ja?).
At 45/50 years, just starting to grey and is quite a ladies man. Favorite arms: his right.
He is an inept engineer, but has a passion for attempting engineering projects.
(N.B.) Gen. Phaulie will take a morale check if ordered to withdraw ... if fails morale, roll D 6
1-3 = fall back one inch; 4-5 = dither for a turn, 6 = will attempt to lead troops in a charge.
Phaulie will also attempt to join any unit which does charge. If Phaulie is killed, his
half-brother takes charge immediately from the middle of the brigade instead of waiting four
turns.
* Brig. Rosenschnauz: (0) On the staff of Baron v. Ballpark, heavy (as in 300 lb) drinker. (promoted due to bravery and to wounds taken during Battle of Bad Tannes).

** Chicken’s Brigade: ( a leg infantry unit)
* I/R Sanders/Chicken: 2 battalions x 12 figs @ (5) (rebuilt after Siefriedsburg)
Blue / red; Yellow / yellow black black/white
* IR Relischer 2 bats @ 12 figs rate (5)
Blue/ green; Yellow / yellow black black/yellow

* Nathan’s Nationals .... militia made up of whatever is handy ....
* Bombed Kennedies .... 1 batteries of 12 lbrs and 1 batt. howitzer.

Cheezers:
The Deutsche Resistance
* Graf V, Pfalz: has raised an infantry regiment, publically to be a Freikorps, actually as part of resistance.
* V, Fisch: Leads the Fisch Freicorps. Relatives to the well traveled Lord and Lady Fischer from Britischerwrust

1 inf. batL Old Retainers 12 figs @ (5)
2 Inf. batl. Freicorps 2 x 12 figs @ (4)
1 inf bat. Jaegers 12 figs @ (6)
1 battery of light guns.
1 battery of 12 lbrs.
Redoubt / Fleche

The Position:

On fairly level ground, a redoubt lying near a river covering the south side / road of a bend in a local stream. The stream is close to the right of the redoubt (which faces South East) and a scrub woods covers its right. Beyond the woods to the north, columns of the Deutsche Resistance can be seen moving towards a bridge on the stream.

The deployment:

Phaulie chooses to attack from the southeast, as an attempt to maneuver around the woods seems liable to not bag anything significant whereas those enemy columns would be cut off if he is able to quickly sweep over the force in front of him.
He deploys the Chicken Brigade with IR Chicken in front and IR Relischer as the second line and in column. He places the artillery with the howitzers to the left of the line brigade and the 12 lbrs to the right (first mistake, the howitzers would be needed to cover the woods).
Since he has two battalions of Militia, he posts them as skrimishers to cover the flanks. .

Graf v. Pfalz, an experienced and wily veteran, places the Old Retainers, one battalion of the Fisch Freikorps, and the 12 lbrs within the fleche. The 2nd battalion of the Freikorps is refused behind the right of the fleche on low ground between the fleche and the stream. The jaegers and the light artillery he conceals in the edge of the woods on his left ... with orders to not reveal themselves until the Frankszonians have advanced in front of their artillery.

The Action:

As all infantry units have just been in battle at Abbot’s Field, an attrition roll is made for each unit. Chicken’s Brigade comes of best, but the Fisch Freikorps does much better than Nathan’s Nationals.

First initiative favors the Frankszonians who bombard the fleche. The 12 lbrs in the fleche resond by firing on IR Chicken / Sanders.
As the artillery firing continues, Phaulie observes the Old Retainers, on the east arm of the fleche recoil. He sounds the Advance!

When IR Chicken/Sanders marches down onto the flats before the redoubt, the light artillery opens an oblique fire upon them while the 12 lbrs strike them from the front. In spite of the casualties, Phaulie forges forward going boldly where he should not (and cursing the fact that his howitzers cannot silence the concealed battery in the woods)!
V. Fisch, meanwhile, leads his second battalion along the river bank to engage the Frankszonian militia coming up the river bottoms.

Meanwhile, the Old Retainers have rallied and have surged back into their positions. The first battalion of the Fisch Freikorps opens fire on the advancing Chickens along with the continued pounding from the Cheezer artillery. Howitzer fire on the Freikorps by the Cheesy batter drives them back with heavy losses. V. Pfalz has to personally rally them. The jaegers in the woods open rifle fire on the militia battalion advancing towards them. While the militia manage to close to musket range, the I/R Chicken/Sanders is visibly shaken.

Phaulie orders IR Relischer to advance around the left of IR Chicken/Sanders. This brings it to the attention of the Cheesy 12 lbr battery. Since Relischer is still in column, it takes heavy casualties. The right wing Frankszonian militia continues to engage in a firefight with the jaegers, and of course is beginning to look like Swiss Cheese as a result. Firing through the gap between the militia and IR Chicken/Sanders, the Frankszonian 12 lbrs. again drive back the Old Retainers even as the 1st battalion of the Fisch Freikorps manages to return to the works.

At this moment, v. Fisch charges the militia battalion, catching it obliquely. At the same time, the oblique fire from the Cheeser light guns throws Chicken/Sanders into the fat. Moments later, the Jaegers rifles finally mill down the militia battalion before them.

Phaulie finally feels his foolishness. With his flanks being barbequed, he rallies the Chicken brigade between his batteries. V. Fisch declines to advance against that position, and Graf v. Pfalz is still reorganizing his own line forces, so the action ends.

The Deutche Resistance falls back behind the stream into Ginnheim, where Russelville Cheezer battalions can be seen deploying.

Next:
A Game of Ginnheim?

another view

2008-09-23T08:30:00.000-07:00

Bill Protz found this excellent regional view and posted it on the Empire vs. Elector blog.
It shows some details which had bothered me and some names I hadn't been able to locate.
Among other things, my games between the Limburgers and the Frankfurters will need more hills :)
A

Interceptions

2008-09-07T15:20:00.000-07:00

A courier arrives in Frankfurter for Intendant Bastille from Gen. Broglie:

Among other trivia about supply trains, depredations from desperadoes, and the piccadillos of German subordinate allies, a copy of an intercepted letter found on a Britischerwurst dragoon officer:

"To: My Lord, the Duke of Hesse-Seewald;
From: Shtille Fhartz
Re: Proposed cooperation

"Sire:

"We are eager to accede to your suggestion that we engage the forces along the Main from their rear while you operate on their front.
"Indeed, such an opportunity would be an answer to our constant petitions to the Divine to liberate our beloved Frankszonia from the odious occupation by the degenerate Gallians and their effete puppet, the Hurtshog v. Frankfurter.

"Unfortunately, even though we were able to divert the Empress's largess to Hesse Homburg to bring Prince Pepperoni's battalions and squadrons up to strength, the Cheezers are reluctant to engage the Gallian engorged forces of the Hurtshog. Especially because their usual provocateur and supporter, the Marquis de Roquefort is hesitant to come too close to the attention of M,sr. Le Charade at the moment.

"However, should you be able to dispatch a cadre of good officers and sergeants to the encampments between Limburger and Russelville, we expect that we will be able to raise sufficient battalions to make at least a credible diversion in cooperation with your actions.
The inclusion of good artillerists and their guns would be especially appreciated due to our losses at Bischof.

"Failing the dispatch of such a cadre, could your beneficence at least provide us with sufficient resources to sustain our forces and to recruit qualified mercenaries?

"Sincerely,
". Fhartz, Landgraf zu Beerfranks "

The Baron Bastille rings for his secretary as he considers the fact that Shtille Fhartz is rumored to employ silent but deadly assassins ....

More Dip (lomancy)

2008-08-16T11:05:00.000-07:00

The court of the Hurtshog welcomes the Count Wilhelm v. Corona from Saxe Beerstein.
In celebration, the Anglerians throw a special grill and fish fry while the Patriarch of the Later - in - the - Day Saints toasts with a special Te Deum!

The Frankfurters are boiling ....

2008-07-14T10:34:00.000-07:00

Let's see:
Johannes Baddman will suureptiously leave a file in Broglie's tent which claims that Hesse Homburg has indiscriminately recruited forces and leaders which bear The Empire no good will and Gallia even less ...

A clerk from one of the BurgerMasters of Frankfurter will approach either Broglie and / or Intendant Bastille to point out that the Hurtshog's activities have been serious problems for Gallia's other minor allies, and perhaps is overdue for replacement ...

Phillipe reports to the Intendent that the malcontents have recruited Dutchmen and coming down from Limburger to Russelville form a serious challenge to the Hurthog's forces in that area, and if victorious would be able to march into Mainz and cut the supply lines for both Broglie and Chevert ... that later, btw, looks good for a proxy fight ...

:)

Freiherr Yelch departs for Scotland

2008-07-07T04:41:00.000-07:00

* Reich FreiHerr Franz Yelch:
This young (26 year old) soldier of fortune is the fourth surviving child of an impoverished noble seeking to establish his fortune in the path of honor. A cheerful, optimistic prankster, he views himself as a kind of gallant knight errant. As an Hauptman in the Infantry Regiment Von Hottatrot, his energy and initiative sustained that corps’ conquest of the key redoubt in the Battle of Bad Tannes after the Margrave was wounded. As a reward, Franz has been promoted to a Major de Battalion in the Sage Guard. Since he has distant cousins (in-laws of an older brother) among the Stuart and Frazier clans, he volunteered to represent Frankszonia in the restoration of the true kings of Scotland.
Though he obviously is ambitious and talented as a military officer, his ultimate dream is to establish a horse breeding farm in America, far from the barbaric Prussian / Germanian hordes. While he avidly attends horse races, he doesn’t really gamble (having barely adequate funds anyway) but instead studies the breeding lines and characteristics of the outstanding beasts. In quiet interludes, he plays on the organ or attends local operatic productions; pining away for the lady singers whose company he never can afford.

(Inspired by my own ancestor Yelch, who did immigrate from around Frankfurt to get away from the Prussians right after the American revolution and who is thought to have brought the first organ down the Ohio into the Northwest Territory. His estate was established near modern Bloomington, Indiana and endured until the 1950's. One tradition is that as a child he was usually fed burnt toast lest he eat more bread than the family could afford ...)

A new Wiener force is assembling

2008-07-03T01:15:00.000-07:00

Okay, the original post was an excellently researched response by someone else to someone’s honest question about Austrian Grenadier battalions and their commanders. I ought to be ashamed of what I’m going to do with them }:->

Re: Austrian Grenadiers

I found this in my copy of SYWA Journal, vol. VIII, n.4

Grenadier Formations in Loudon's Corps in 1761:
(becomes Loudones Corps)

Major Morbeer (Morebeer)
2 cos. Giulay (Goodlay)
2 cos. Deutschmeister
2 cos. Angern (either Anglers or Angerly)

Major Rollfe (?) (Rallfe)
2 cos. Botta (Blotto)
2 cos. Konigsegg (Hey, I’m keeping this one!)
2 cos. Wied (Wired, Weird, Wilde)
2 cos. Los Rios (Dos Gringos?)

Major Muck (?) (yep!)
2 cos. Stahremberg
2 cos. Bayreuth
2 cos. Esterhazy (already got Eatserhasty)
2 btns Loudon Grenadiers

Ob. Kinsky (Kinksky)
1 sqd Erzh. Josef Dragoons
1 sqd Wurtemberg Dragoons
1 sqd Schmerzing Cuirassiers
1 sqd Prinz Albrecht Cuirassiers

Ob. Lt. de Bine (de Binge)
2 cos. Durlach
2 cos. Loudon
2 cos. Palfy

Major O'Donell (Der Bauer Alte McDonald)
2 cos. Erz. Ferdinand (quite bullish, no?)
2 cos. Wallis (Walleyed)
2 cos. Platz (Plotzed)
2 cos. Waldeck (Walld_cked0

Ob. Caldwell (Cladwell, a real picky dresser ... forget the term right now)
2 cos. Marschall
2 cos. Andlau
2 cos. Baden

Ob. Lt. Kodent (?) (Kotex)
1 sqd Ansbach Cuirassiers
1 sqd Trautmannsdorf Cr. (can’t type this one on a family list0
1 sqd Alt Modena Cr.
1 sqd Kollowrath Dragns. (Kollor Wraith Dragons? right Tolkienesque!)

In summary, there are six infantry battalions and the equivalent of two 4
squadron heavy
cavalry regiments in Loudon's Corps.

Wiener General Picklemany wins laudits in Beerstein!

2008-07-03T00:55:00.000-07:00

* Picklemany (2): Competent. Good leader, but tends to be conservative in approach to
campaigns: In tactical matters, he is perhaps one of our best learned and most versatile commanders. Fluent in Deutsch, French, Italian, and Turkish ... and can issue standard commands in English and Hungarian! (now in service with Ober Beerstein under HerzogWilhelm von Beerstein who invests him into the Order of the Goblet. General Picklemany was also invested into the Military Order of the Golden Crown for their gallant conduct which ensured our victory at Alesgarden).

His bravery and leadership managed to keep the Hungarian units in line even when they were almost overwhelmed by the Germanian forces. Alas, word is that he took a nasty fall from his horse, but the Duchess Lydia is personally seeing to his recovery!