Welcome

Welcome to my wargaming blog,
I'm Dave and live in Morpeth, Northumberland in the UK.
This may or may not be a regular thing, we'll just have to see how it goes.

I am a painter/collector of figures first and a wargamer second. My thrill in this great hobby of ours is to place that final well researched & painted unit into the cabinet. The actual gaming with the figures is an important but secondary experience, we all like to win, but it isn't the be all and end all of it, being with good friends and having fun is.
Hope you will enjoy reading this blog as much as I will writing in it.
Just to remind the visitor to scroll down the various pages and click on 'older posts' to see more.
Dave.

Sunday 5 March 2017

The 1795 Olympics

It has to be said sometimes I'm a bit slow, my wife would argue with the 'sometimes' bit but in general the old thought processes ain't exactly speeding up. So when I looked at the Austrian infantry marching steadily down the road I thought, well trying an out flanking manoeuvre, fair go I will just occupy the hill on the right flank and shoot them to bits as they come up and wait for my rescue party to come along with the Countessa and lend a hand.


So imagine my chagrin  when we got to this point in the game. You see my line of communication/exit point is marked by a red token just underneath the tree in the bottom right of the picture. That is where I have to get the fair maiden and as many of her escort to, then off the table and this is where Neal the sneaky bugger was heading, no should I say running (suffering the relevant fatigue points on the Austrian infantry) in order to get there first. If he captures that point then all of my force has to take a morale test and the exit point is removed and I will have to retrace my steps back to the church!
Now I hear you say, just swing those infantry around and give em a few volleys to see off. Not so easy, as I found out.
The French force on the hill is only commanded by a sergeant who at best can order his group to fire and reload, or, wheel and fire. This then leaves them unloaded for next time. In the mean while Neal's Olympic athletes are galloping past them with a level three commander in charge. Bollocks!




In the meantime the other part of my cunning plan was going to rats poop as well. These pictures show the rescue column just about to cross the stream covered by skirmishers behind the hedge, so far so good, a few fatigue points and one casualty from the Austrian infantry at long range but I will suffer that.



Next a crushing volley into my flank (double fatigue points) and crossing what I quickly realise is not a piddly stream but a major obstacle breaks up the formation and causes yet more fatigue points. I am still thinking in terms of large battalions which would only be slowed up by this obstacle, in this scale though this is a bloody great drainage ditch.



So with a rear guard left in place to cover the gap in the hedge what is left of my much vaunted relief column struggles up the hill. The Countessa and her escort moving at her half speed (her husband has a gammy leg) got over without issue.




I was left with no other option, the sergeant on the hill had to break up his force and run his men downhill towards the red line of communication/exit point.
Who will get there first? basically whichever token comes out of the bag. Heady and exciting stuff.
Same time, same place, same channel folks.
Dave.

4 comments:

  1. Dave, the tribulations of this beautiful Countessa (and of his gammy'leg'husband!) are top notch, wonderful pictures and reading...

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  2. Sounds like you're having fun.....

    ReplyDelete