Secret weapons of the Kaiser (Part III)

Just a quickie post while I’m waiting on supplies to finish off my VSF forces. The first two secret weapons of the Kaiser were listed yonks ago on the blog and tbh I can’t be arsed posting a link, so bugger that, here’s the third secret weapon.

Dampftruppen Ausf A and B

Powered by the revolutionary Borsig Bauman flash boiler and guided by a clockwork gyroscope the Dampftruppen Ausf A assault automata were intended as line breaking shock troops. Impervious to all but a lucky shot and untroubled by fear. They proved pivotal when first used in large numbers against the French at the battle of Spicheren in 1870. 

Capable of nearly three mph, these unfeeling death machines had a combat endurance of thirty minutes when fully stoked but were only able to travel in a straight line after launch and had no obstacle crossing capability. To avoid capture and the subsequent examination of their secret internal workings they used a tilt mechanism and timer to trigger an internal bomb when their steam pressure dropped below a certain threshold. 

Prussian troops affectionately referred to the new automata as “clankers” and often strapped bags of nails around them to act as extra shrapnel when the machines finally went boom.

The Ausf A was withdrawn from service in late 1872 when Napoleon III’s forces countered their almost impervious iron carapace with massive defensive magnets at Campigny sur Marne.

A greatly embarrassed Von Moltke ordered the immediate withdrawal of the Aust A from service.

Directly following the Ausf A’s failure the greatly improved (and completely retooled in brass) Aust B had to wait fifteen years to make its battlefield debut at Folkestone. Given a varied weapon load out which fired automatically at any heat signatures detected ahead of its intended path (and retaining its Ausf A auto destruct) it still lacked an ability to traverse anything but the most modest of obstacles.

The Ausf B boasted several weapon load outs and shown here is the explosive dart gun (left) the storm steam projector (centre two) and the the galvanic electro aetheric disruptor (right).

A hand tinted lithograph of the fearsome “clankers” venting excess steam after coming ashore in Folkestone. It is said that many volunteer infantry fled at the first sight of their spectral green glowing eyes and fearsome brass moustaches. 

Less exciting but probably more useful is this ten man squad of sausage munching square heads, representing the nun ravishing baby bayonetters of the Konigsberg 3rd infantry division. 

I painted them with gloss varnish by mistake and all attempts to lower the shine with matt has given them a satin complexion instead. Hey ho. 

Right then it’s time to sling my hook I suppose. 

P.s. If Mr Parrot could see his way clear to furnishing me with some weapon noises for the Dampftruppen I’d be greatly obliged.

P.p.s. Might be having a dabble at some 1:2400 Spanish Armada stuff soonish (if the mood remains upon me). Peter Denis rules, squared battle board and Tumbling Dice minis. 

Festung Frigidaire

The missus has been in hospital for a bit, having a nasty old operation as it happens. Fortunately my natural self preservation instincts kicked in and I managed to survive the first week by fashioning a nest of twigs on top of the fridge freezer and stocking it with cheesy comestibles. I was still up there, munching on a stale pie crust and clad only in my underpants, when my youngest son flew over from the UK (on a plane, he’s not ruddy superman, even though he thinks he is) to rescue me.

Der Festung

He’d been sent by a higher authority (the wife) to teach me the ways of the Spag Bol, and teach me he did.  Unfortunately this remains the only thing in my culinary locker, so to speak, and I’ve begun to develop a definite tomato based complexion that might take quite a while to wear off. ((Sigh)). Turns out you shouldn’t eat Spag Bol more than four times a week. Who knew?

Anywhoo the sprog also brought some post in with him, tempting me down from my kitchen based eyrie on a more permanent basis through the medium of newly arrived models and a quick AVBCW game, the result of which I cannot bring myself to share.

Some of the models, like my generalship were not so great, it has to be said, and as you can see from the poor fist I made of them (below) I was both nutritionally deprived and emotionally wrought whilst painting them.  

Regrettably the mother in law seems to have pushed her way into the middle of the picture. Soz about that.

Truth be told there ain’t that many Selenite moon men models out there to choose from, so needs must when the devil drives, eh? 

I was also in receipt of a handsome parcel of tanks which I will regale you with, dear reader, in later posts. Fanciful steam powered things they are, and unlike the moon men they are a wonder to behold. Also in the same parcel were some very nicely sculpted Prussian and home service British infantry. Very toy soldier(ish). Aly would have deffo painted them all shiny, and it wouldn’t take much to tip me over the edge on that front too. I can really see the attraction.

Got three of these buggers done before the missus returned home, looking far too chipper for someone that’s just has major surgery.  Recovering well I’m pleased to report. I suspect it’s the healthy portions of Spag Bol I’ve been dosing her with since she got back.

By the way apologies are due to all you bloggers out there whose sterling work I usually comment on, but of late have not. My excuse is that we’ve had no internet for the best part of a week (Denial of service attack on Orange France apparently. I wonder which state actors could possibly be behind that?) and umptytump trips back and forth to the hospital in Limoges that’ve soaked up a lot of time.

So then, I’d better sling my hook. I’ve several pounds of mince here that’s not going to brown itself off and two or three packets of spaghetti to boil. Yum yum.

Toodleooh.

All is safely gathered in.

Autumn has finally begun to make its presence felt out here with a little yellowing of the leaves and a well received morning chill when I venture forth, early doors, to let the chickens out. Mists and mellow fruitfulness. You get the picture. Anywhoo, we had our log delivery a week or so ago, which means we’re all set for the winter. The caveman part of of my brain (and let’s be honest it’s the majority of it) always finds great comfort in a full larder and a heat source independant of the current worlds economic ups and downs. 

The autumn and winter usually provides the added pleasure of lying in bed until I have to consider breakfast to be lunch and wiggling my toes in delight at the thought of all the poor buggers struggling out to work in the gloom and the rain outside. Schadenfreude. I reckon there’s a bit of German in me somewhere. No not like that you filthy minded beggars.

Also on the gathering in front I’ve begun collecting new toys for the winter / spring 27 projects. I’m holding back on doing anything with them for the mo though while the old left flipper is still a bit shaky. Doc says it’s nerve damage that’ll gradually heal if I stop using kango hammers and such like. Another reason to be grateful for the onset of autumn / winter with its bad weather is that it brings about a natural cessation of “work” on the property for a while.

Being the trooper that I am however, I still managed a bit of painting to finish off my AVBCW project despite the wobbly digits as you can see below.

RN landing party Lewis gun team. 

RN landing party sailors. Hi res digital photos are no one’s friend.

Soldiers of Edward VIII’s Severn Valley force.

Local news: I made the mistake of looking out over MT’s back field last week whereupon I observed two giant babies (one pink, one blue) apparently knocking seven shades of shit out of each other. 

I didn’t linger. 

I’ve got form… (refugees from my old blog may recall the cowboy and Indian incident). 

Instead I went straight to the meds cupboard to see if I’d taken more than my usual dose by accident. All seemed to be in order and when I got back to the window the buggers were amazingly still there. Turns out the young couple who’ve just moved into our hamlet (Pradeix: Population 12: Days since last major incident: 27)  are going to have a baby and this was some sort of American style “gender reveal” party. Apparently the scripted fights winner reveals the sex of the new arrival to a crowd of onlooking friends and relatives.

Yeah. Me neither. 

Nicked this picture off the interweb by way of illustration. I don’t know…the kids of today…with their winkle pickers and their rock ‘n’ roll. Where will it end?

Don’t worry, I’ve written a letter of complaint to president Macron. I’m sure the gendarmerie will now be placed on high alert to deal with any other outbreaks of American “culture”. Sorry Jon.

What else? Oh yes. Youngest son will be making an appearance soon and is pretty jazzed about something called “Greathelm” (28 mm knights duking it out on an A4 sized map?! This might be an opportunity to find employment for my dormant 100YW lads? I’ll post a batrep if I don’t lose too badly. 

Of course I’m still buggering about with AI now and then and this picture should give a flavour of what’s coming up shortly. There’ll be steam punk tanks too btw, if that’s your bag.

Apart from a Sealion campaign I’ve been casting about for ways to utilise my Victorian Brompton buildings - and this genre might just suffice.

Right then. That’ll do for now. Time to sling my hook and toast some autumny marshmallows over a roaring log fire while listening to some Val Doonican.

Toodleooh mes amis.

Low hanging fruit

I sat in a field with the wife the other week to watch the eclipse. Saw bugger all as it happens, but something tiny in the grass (no not the wife) bit me in the nads. Nasty.

The swelling was awful, but it did get me some very admiring looks from the grannies in the boulangerie the following day, so it wasn’t all bad. “Yeah bitches” I muttered sotto voce as I stood at the counter, “check out them apples.”

Returning home with the croissants I heard the wife talking to her mother on the phone, cackling with delight about biting low hanging fruit or some such. Now I know we’ve not long brought in the last batch of plums from the orchard, but why she’d find feasting on them so amusing is anyone’s guess? Women. Pah! 

Not having been able to sit down properly has been a welcome excuse not to go into the games room mind you. I’ve been trying to paint some 15mm ECW for a week or so but I’ve developed a bit of a tremor in the left hand that’s made it nigh on impossible to obtain a decent result. Sad to report that I made such a dogs breakfast out of my last attempt that three of the little sods ended up in the bin following a bit of a hissy fit. 

Talking of chucking things away, my Brompton terrain boards all went the way of the Swan Vesta yesterday too. They were getting a bit “frilly” for my taste. Verging on the railway  modeller aesthetic or thereabouts. The way things were going there’d have been no room for the troops again. Been there done that. Besides I’ve got form for destroying things I’ve created. Just ask my therapist about my robot buddy Colin, my previous blog and my self published novel “Wormwood.” Sometimes you have to burn the village to save the village, n’est ce pas!. 

Being a natural « coughs » brightsider though I’m pleased to report that while 15mm appears to be a no no for now, I’m still able to knock out the 28mm stuff to my usual crappy standard, witness these lads below:

Stretcher bearer! These boys will be aiding the forces of repression in forthcoming Brompton games. British army uniforms of this period don’t present a great colour pallet to work with do they?

Without Brompton’s Sarissa terrain boards I’m moving back to hexon for the foreseeable; sort of stripped back and almost cartoonish. Better looking? No. Easier to create landscapes? Yup. I know most of you really don’t like hexes, but I reckon if you squint really hard at my blog photos from here on in, you probably won’t notice them at all. 

Probably.

Fortunately I’ve created another set of rules for my most recent AVBCW pash, which just so happen to be hex based and 28mm. 

What a happy coincidence.

Other than that I was surprised to find a figure on the Artizan website that’s named after me, and that doesn’t happen everyday now does it? Could it be a sign from the cosmos to indulge in some more Victorian sci fi?

Mmmm. Hold my beer for a mo would you? I’m off to have another decko at Pendraken’s Selenite’s.

Blimey you have a filthier mind than me. 

Selenites are moon men.

Invasion of the moon men could be a thing at some point I reckon…well after I’ve finished the jolly jack tar contingent for Brompton that is. 

Toodleooh for now mes amis.

The comeback kid.

Yes, it’s me the comeback kid, and I’ve err….comeback. I wanted to insert a sound file of a trumpet fanfare at this point but all I can afford at the moment is a gif of an old man tooting out land of hope and glory on a kazoo, or an old woman farting the opening bars of rule Britannia, so I don’t think I’ll bother.

Back earlier than expected I know, but some of the things I knew would stop all hobby activity medical wise have been put back until October (ish), pending further tests.

The building work chez moi is finished and only came in at double the budgeted amount. ((Sigh). My elderly neighbour Marie Therese had previously pointed out a patch of rough plaster in our adjacent cottage that she claimed had been a doorway between our two properties back in the day. 

That’d be an old doorway with a pre existing lintel and easily chopped through rubble infill, of course.

Shame that when it came to it, it wasn’t actually there…or anywhere else for that matter. “Mmmm” said Jean Phillipe, having chopped all the plaster off the wall in search of it. Did I want to carry on? The little voice in my head that sometimes tells me to kill postmen said, “Nah, If you could just stick all that rubble back up where it came from I think we’ll call it quits eh? Oh and here’s a tenner for your trouble.” Fortunately I ignored my inner voice like the doctors advise, but instead I started to laugh. I was still laughing when the wife led me away for a little lie down. 

Instead of the aforementioned easily chopped through rubble in a former doorway we were met by a 1m thick granite wall that took two men three days to cut through. If I was of meaner stock I’d go round Marie Therese’s house and bust her upside her head with my pimp stick, or some such. Still, the wife encouragingly said that if  I go back on the game I should be able to settle the bill for the work in ten years or so, so no harm no foul I guess.

As I whinged on about during my previous break in radio silence, it’s been too hot en general for painting so in the the few precious hours when I wasn’t lugging tons of rock down to the bottom of the old jardin (and crying into my tea) I did a bit of play testing with my Bundooks Indian mutiny rules. 

Given they were all my own work I actually had some fun with them but when I tidied them up and passed them over to a couple of mates to review they found every chink in my logic and every spelling error I’d become blind too. Doh. I’m not sure I can thank them enough for their general patience and indeed the constructive criticism that has made version 3167 soooooo much better, but I’ll have a go. Cheers chaps, I’ll buy you a pint of crème de menthe if my spot the ball entry ever comes up good.

As a final test my lad is coming over in September and if he finds no issues I might go as far as to put them on Wargames Vault, who knows? Objectively I’ve deffo bought worse in the past ((coughs - Victorian submarine warfare)) and obviously in my current fiscal circumstances I can’t turn down the chance of making my first million by Christmas, now can I? Besides, it’ll be easier than standing in fish net stockings all night doing favours for sailors. I mean, these rules are hex based, 28mm, platoon level, in an obscure period with expensive models. What’s not to like, apart from hexes, obscure periods, and expensive models? Watch out Lardies, watch out Warlord, I’m coming for ya!

Lol.  

Enough.

Here’s a game I played last week called “Rumble at Rangpur.”

They might be the famed Hodson’s horse, but meh, I’m an infantryman at heart so they’re just donkey wallopers to me. Nice opening piccie thought to act as blog style click bait.

I’d be the first to agree that an essential component of any good rule set is that players are forced to make decisions of import throughout the proceedings, however I’ve taken this a step or two further because I require my players to do the best with what they’ve got, and what they’ve got isn’t always what they need.  It isn’t everyone’s cup of tea I know, but how many commanders in real life have the right balance of units, perfectly positioned for a task they knew in advance that they’d be given?

First off there’s always an attacker and defender, which is a bit binary maybe, but it keeps things simple. The winner of a D6 roll gets to decide which they want to be. In this case the Indian player rolls highest and chooses to be the attacker, ensuring he gets more points to spend on his force construction than the British player.

Next, the attacker and the defender are both dealt (in secret) a playing card that determines their leadership characteristics. This is admittedly a bit contentious since it forces the player to adopt one of four different military mindsets, and the rules of engagement that your men have been trained to follow. Despite choosing to be the attacker our Indian commander has been dealt a heart which characterises him as either a bumbler a coward or a drunk. He won’t be able to activate all of his forces in a turn and both him and his command unit will run away (which may be a blessing) if effective fire is brought to bear on them. The little red tab marked “bumbler” is slid under his base to remind me of his status.

The British player goes through the same process, again in secret, and it turns out he is “savvy”. His guys are trained to use firepower over melee and he gets an extra chance at activating a unit every turn.

Still not knowing what he’s got to achieve the Indian attacking player now has to choose the forces he’s going to command in whatever fate throws at him. He has thirteen points and here’s what he chose.

The plucky Brit only has nine points as the defender so he chose these chaps:

Sadly I don’t have eight armed civilians (yet) so the bunch on the right have four armed manservant’s to pad out the numbers.

Terrain set up is done only by the defender (who doesn’t know what the attackers mission will be) and one of its prescriptive rules is that there must be a building, bridge, road junction or hill in the middle of the board as well as a cap on the number of hexes that can be covered by terrain overall. 

For this mission the British player chose to deploy a fortified customs house in the centre of the table and a metric ton of fish tank jungle. 

The last playing card drawn (three pictures up - 7 of diamonds) decides the mission that the Indian player, as the attacker, has to undertake. It turns out his mission is “breakthrough” and all he has to do is get one unit off the British players board edge. Simples. Naturally he’s not about to tell the British player what he needs to do.

The final bit of pre match buggering about is deployment. The defender deploys all of his forces anywhere on his own long board edge, while the attacker draws another playing card that limits him to certain portions of the board and even on some occasions allowing units to come in from the side. 

Plucky British defenders deployed along their board edge, with the cavalry on the more open flank. The civilians could have been deployed anywhere on the board, and in hind sight sight I should have put them in the building, but hey ho. Changing your mind afterwards because no one’s around to see you do it is still damned bad form in my book. 

Our Indian player found himself limited to the centre and right flank of his long board edge which meant he couldn’t squeeze everyone in on turn one. His cavalry were kept back and left to deploy when the British player had fully revealed his hand.

The Indian player is squeezed into the centre and right flank of his board edge with no room for his cavalry just yet.

Finally… after all the attackers units that could be deployed had been deployed the British defender is allowed to move one of his units to somewhere else on his board edge so long as their is space to accommodate them in contiguous hexes.

When described in detail this process sounds awfully long winded but I’ve managed the entire process in less than ten minutes every time, which I don’t think is too bad. 

Now then. Because you’ve all been very good and sat nice and still throughout, I’ll end this post here and run through a few aspects of the game itself next time. Soz if it was all a bit nerdy and boring…but face it we’re wargamers and boring and nerdy is what we do.

P.S. Peter Pig has always encouraged us to play the period not the rules so to settle disputes in a period correct manner I suggest punching each other in the face until a resolution is obtained (might being right) rather than any namby pamby dice rolling nonsense. I’m thinking of adding an in game combat bonus for anyone with mutton chops or a handsome moustache too, for what it’s worth.

lol

Laters potaters 

JBM

It ain’t arf ott mum!

I know, I know, I’m not scheduled to be posting again until September but this blog has always served as a sort of aide memoir as much as anything so I’m taking this opportunity to record a few things while I’m stuck in the house with bugger all else to do. 

The temperature outside is currently 41 degrees and no meaningful work is possible for folk of a northern hemisphere persuasion. My paint drys on the end of the brush before I can apply it to a miniature and even if it didn’t the heat has currently sapped all enthusiasm for the endeavour. About a month ago I was constantly cutting the ever growing grass. If I dared venture out today I could probably just sweep up its crispy brown remains with a dustpan and brush.

Despite an abundance of time on my hands the slow pace of deliveries from blue moon means I’ve only managed to complete the one 15mm ECW regiment (sans flag) during the relative cool (22degrees) of the last few nights.

Since this is meant to be a wargaming hobby blog, here’s some piccies. Not my best work, but under the circumstances they’ll do.

I have to confess that I’m considering doubling up on the unit size, despite the consequences to the wallet and the time scales of completing two pocket armies. They would still all fit in my hexon hexes and the sight of 36 pike per battalia might be worth it. We’ll see. In any event next up will be a couple of troops of horse, should the great deep fat fryer in the sky spare me.

Thankfully a few none painting hobby bits and pieces are nearing completion in this enforced downtime. First up is an ECW midlands campaign adapted from my previous ECW ones, requiring no actual miniatures to resolve, but which does involve actual hand to hand combat! Here’s a sneak preview of the map over which the “action” ((coughs)) will take place.

Still under rigorous testing but nearing sign off as “done” is this hex based 2d6 driven home brew Indian Mutiny rule set. I do like me a nice bell curve. Further info forthcoming soonish.

On the amusing French anecdotes front I’m afraid I only have this brief offering. 

“Yum yum pigs bum apple tart and chewing gum,” as we used to sing in primary school.

Marie Therese, wife of the Pradeix strangler and owner of our hamlets secret eau-de-vie still, brought round “this” a week or so ago. I’m not sure its repulsiveness is adequately captured by the photo but by way of explanation it is a “meat” product preserved beneath a two inch layer of fat. It was bottled in 2019 according to the (very) faded label, so I suspect it may be a little past its sell by date. Mmmm. Authentic Creusois preserve or stolen forensic evidence from a motorway pile up. Who can say.

In fairness this latest offering was a replacement for a 2018 jar of the same thing that I erm “accidentally” dropped while showing the wife something I was convinced was an eyeball concealed in its depths. 

I’ve a feeling I’m probably going to have to taste this in her presence and make lots of yum yum noises. It’s hard being étranger I can tell you, 

Okay I’ll be off to put some ice cubes in my pants now. Needs must when the devil drives, eh. 

Catch you later.

Have a Kit Kat

Some of you might remember the old Cadburys advert…Have a break, have a Kit Kat? 

Can’t get hold of a Kit Kat over here…but I can take a break…which is exactly what I’m going to do for the next few months.

We’ve got the builders in shortly, knocking a way through from the cottage to the barn, and that means precious little hobby money for the balance of the year. Hey ho. First world problems to have and all that. Truth is, the wife is finding it increasingly difficult to use the upper floors these days and with more spinal surgery on the horizon that’s not going to get any easier. What used to be the gîte will now become a downstairs living room (our main one is upstairs to take advantage of the view) and a downstairs bedroom she can use if her condition worsens

On the hobby front, the first batch of blue moon ECW lads finally turned up as you can see below and as usual the conundrum  becomes one of basing. My old 15mm collection from PP was based on 8cm stands, but here I’m experimenting with 4cm bases so I can put them in column on my hexon roads. There’s 60 figures to a battalia here which hopefully gives an impression of “heft,” or at least it should do when I add the pikes to the pile block. Lol. The steel watchamacallit miniatures samples arrived several days before the blue moon stuff and crikey they’re tiny. Beautifully sculpted. But like I say ruddy tiny. They actually put me more in mind of my 10mm Pemdraken AWI collection than anything. I’ll consider that a bullet dodged.

Here’s the boys in column. Don’t judge me on the state of the desk.

And here they are in line. Note they’re only stuck down with blue tack at this point. 

I was so chuffed with my previous AI portrait in East India Company uniform that I asked for another as an ECW officer. In the interests of authenticity I gave chat GPT a more up to date photo in which the old barnet has gone the way of all things.

Declare Sirrah! Be ye for King or Parliament? I consider this proof, if proof were needed, that the internet can be usefully explored for other things than porn or cats. 

Testing of my Mutiny rules continues as you can see from the picture below. So far there hasn’t been any significant revision work required - which is encouraging, or worrying depending on your viewpoint. 

Company lads from the 64th storming a sepoy position.

I plan to come back to the blog in late September when I’ve got something hobby wise to actually write about, so in the interim I hope you all have a belting summer and get to kick back yourselves at some point.

Toodleooh.

P.S. Since I won’t be about to remind you, don’t forget to put the sprouts on to boil in July.