Who do you think you are kidding Mr Mosley…

Very short post this week just to catalogue some VBCW painting progress. Needless to say there’s still tons more to do.

Given the poor weather and the absence of both gardening or visitors I finished off the last few figures for the Brompton TA section, produced a WW1 era lorry, 5 members of the Brompton Carpet Factory Defence Force and a couple of bits of scatter terrain. Here in no particular order are the results.

First of the carpet factory lads. This is Bill *Butcher* Haskins with a lethal looking hedging implement. Comes in handy for all your fascist pruning needs. 

Michael *Pedro* O’Rorke. Anarchist volunteer recently returned from Spain. (Hat tip to Chris for the inspiration). Along with the pistol he’s carrying either a sticky bomb or an over large marital aid. Either way…if he uses it on you you’re buggered. lol. 

Charlie Booth, local Green grocer and former TA chap. Might put a scope on that bondook and make him a sniper.

Another TA bod. Len Tyler. Demon bowler for the Brompton 1st Eleven.

Alfred Bingham, last of the TA chaps - chief clerk at Lloyd’s Bank on the Brompton High Road. 

Frank Upton. Works at the carpet factory - but used to be a pilot in the last lot…so he says.  

Norman *Trotsky* Tomkinson - factory shop steward and inventor of the one shot Tomkinator - hand pumped flamethrower. 

Essential scatter terrain or vital comms equipment depending on your viewpoint.

Most of the initial VBCW stuff will be set in and around an industrial area, and, as anyone who plays skirmish games will tell you - you can never have too much scatter terrain.

The jury’s out on this one. A Sarissa Precision WW1 Lorry which I’m reliably informed would still just about be in use by the mid 1930´s. A bit crude? WS Atkins is my brother in laws garage in Coventry by the way. Thought I’d sneak in a bit of cheeky advertising on his behalf. lol. 

None of this lot are of Aly Morrison standard, but they’ve been really fun to paint and there’s a few more characters yet to come (along with a bunch of buildings).

Toodleooh for now mateys.

The adequate six

Yeah, the adequate six.  Doesn’t have the same je ne sais quoi as the magnificent seven does it? These lads are the first of the anti fascist resistance fighters defending the fictitious midlands town of Brompton. 

Not sure what the back story of the guy with the gas mask and the petrol can with a grenade strapped to it is, but it’ll be fun (for me) to create one. The guy on the right is from North Star and though billed as 28mm is a bit chunkier than the others from Irregular. Given that he’s a staff officer I’m going to assume that he’s been enjoying more than his fair share of brandy and cigars. 

I’ve broken my anti fascists into three groups this lot are from the local TA battalion, disbanded by Mosley, hence the battle bowlers and webbing. The second bunch (with a lovely Maxim 08 LMG) are from the towns concerned business community and the third are workers from Brompton’s carpet factory. 

The results so far don’t really support it but they are a delight to paint and I’m looking forward to getting to grips with the rest. 

Finally here’s the Lanchester (especially for Keith who’s partial to the odd interwar armoured car) which is still to have its name (Rosie) and registration plates applied. The eagle eyed and the picky will note that it doesn’t have standard British Army markings, this is because it’s operated by Mosley’s 1st (Hounslow) Assault Column whose tactical symbol is a white square (and anyone who claims I just didn’t have any proper decals to hand is a ruddy liar…so there).

“Rosie” with BUF flash applied to turret.

T’other side. Markings show Rosie is the third vehicle from the second troop. 

Right I’d better sling my hook, the suns on the wane and Elsie (the chicken) still hasn’t learned it’s time to head for the coop. 

A bientôt mes amis.

Un échange culturel

I was taking to my neighbour Élodie last week about regional accents. She claims she has one, though like all things French it’s totally and deliberately imperceptible to the unsophisticated.

(Put your hand up if you can tell the difference between a three year and a four year old wedge of Comte fromage? Yeah. Thought not).

I rest my case.

Anywhoo one thing led to another and I suggested that in exchange for her making me speak French, I would introduce her to some proper regional English (rather than my perfect “received pronunciation” BBC accent - for which I’m famous). 

As an étranger (stranger) it’s nice to hear the occasional sentence in the dulcet tones of my hometown and though it’s been tough for her, our initial interactions now broadly follow this pattern…

Me: “Bonjour Élodie, comment ça va?” Kiss Kiss.

Élodie: “Ime oar roite tarr bab…” Kiss Kiss “Owsyure belly ferr spots these days?”

A charming and useful exchange should Élodie ever find herself in the West Midlands, I’m sure you’d agree. Of course she’s mighty chuffed with her new found linguistic skills and so we quickly moved on to the mastery of the traditional exclamation upon something going right.

Me: “C’est génial. (It’s great)

Élodie: “Iss bostin innit.”

With the basics under out belt we’ve now moved on to short useful phrases such as…

Me: “Élodie, pourquoi tu te prends la mouche?” (Literally and incomprehensibly - Élodie why have you seized / taken the fly? Apparently meaning Élodie why are you in a nark?).

Élodie: “Mark! Dohne nevah eat yeller snow, jew ear.”

Because of our runaway success with this I have written to the Wolverhampton tourist board asking if they can send any educational linguistic material they have on hand to help Élodie on her path to full fluency.  If I can work up a proper course I reckon I should ask the mayor if I can teach the kids at the lycée in Bourganeuf. Think of it, yours truly single handedly helping to heal the wounds of Brexit. I always knew I was made for better things than playing with toy soldiers and digging holes (my other specialty).

On the subject of toy soldiers (finally), my mojo returned last week - and we’ve agreed to work on our relationship through counselling. I’m allowed to paint toy soldiers on the weekend, for now…and if my “anger issues” improve we’ll take it one step at a time from there. 

Here’s some gratuitous pics of new arrivals and weekend painting that I’ll shamelessly use as click bait in order to get you to scroll through this screed of otherwise total nonsense. 

Horses. Aaaagh. The bane of my (hobby) life. Only another 10 French knights to go. Should be finished in 2027 or thereabouts at my current pace.

And the obligatory view from the back for those wishing to get their money’s worth. Not my best work, but serviceable.

New arrivals. The gun group for the first anti fascist section / squad. To the right is the platoon commander who I’ve decided to call Leonard.

The sections manoeuvre component.

Gotta love the detail. This bank clerk’s even brought his brolly with him.

Back view of one of Sarissa Precision’s destroyed city tiles. 

And the front view of the same corner shop piece. My BUF chap only popped into to get a packet of fags and look what happened. Told him not to spark up if he could smell gas. 

Toodleooh for now, mes amis.

 

Reasons to be cheerful (Part 3)

Kudos to anyone who gets the Ian Dury reference.

The last month has seen an awful lot of heat, an awful lot of sitting in hospital waiting rooms and a virtual halt to painting and gaming. I shall definitely look back at this summer as the month of three H’s.

I actually set out a whole table full of miniatures for my next Indian Mutiny game the other day but packed them all away again before even rolling a dice. Sometimes your hearts just not in it and it’s easier to leave things be until the mojo returns.  (It’d ruddy well better - I’ve got more troops coming in the post next week). 

Anywhoo in an effort to buck myself up a bit here’s a post covering a couple of things that are a definite antidote to my predilection for doom and gloom.

Friends.

I don’t have many. I’m too worried that people might steal my dance moves. Despite this, one chap who I do count as a friend organised a cartoon of me dressed as an East India Company Officer. Here it is for your delight and delectation. The moustache came out well I thought! 

Jokes

My youngest lad, who is party to a number of personal stories I’ve deemed too wacky for the blog, has become very concerned that his dad might be “losing it”. I’m sure he’d have had me put in care by now if I didn’t live in another country. Such concern is (largely) unfounded but it didn’t stop me engaging in a fairly long wind up when a tiny tattoo shop opened (for reasons that escape me) in a nearby village. 

Step one was to mention its opening during a zoom call with the lad in June. Step 2 was to obtain a stick on temporary tattoo from the interweb. Step 3 was to claim in July that my upper arm was too sore to finish the decorating in the hall. Step 4. The big reveal. I told him in August that I’d been a bit drunk in June and had had a random tattoo done in the shop. This was why my arm had been too sore for the decorating. I claimed that upon discovering my lapse the current Mrs Broom had been furious - but now wanted one herself. My son (who remember is convinced I’m going off the rails) was duly horrified when I showed him this…

Within hours texts began arriving from concerned grand children. Was I okay? 

The following weeks conversation with my son ran along the lines of how surprised I’d been that it didn’t hurt too much and that I’d seen an eagle one that’d go nicely on my back…

Must remember at some point to tell him it’s all been a joke!

New Toys

The joy of receiving something other than a bill in the post cannot be overstated. Assuming that I get to the post box before the contents revert to a puddle of lead I hope to be fiddling around with a load of Empress and Footsore anti fascist fighters in the next week or so.

Doing skirmish stuff with small units means that a 3 x 3 board might well suffice. Oddly the reduction in gaming area is going to require a heavy investment in suitable terrain. My British Civil War project will be a lot darker than some of the jolly hockey sticks ones I’ve seen so far so I’m going to need ruined buildings, a lot of ruined buildings. Having tried, and hugely failed, at making my own with cork tiles (hat tip to Keith) I’ve settled on this sort from Sarissa Precision for the ruins…

And this sort for the undamaged bits…

Despite my advertised lack of progress the first section of BUF thugs is now complete. Here’s an LMG team.

And here’s the manoeuvre/ rifle group…

All of my BUF troops have shiny black tin helmets - so I’m going to have their opponents refer to them as blackheads I think. 

Toodleooh.

Oh by the way, if anyone finds my mojo would they please return it by email. There is a reward. 

Butterfly’s and rabbit holes

Still plodding on with the HYW lads as you’ll see below but the butterfly predictably flapped its wings and I fell straight down what might prove to be an expensive AVBCW rabbit hole.

If they can put health warnings on cigarette packets then why not this sort of thing on websites selling miniatures?

The plan now is to spend the remainder of the year completing the units for the HYW but to also work on factions for AVBCW and a metric ton of 28mm urban terrain. Running games with my Indian Mutiny and VSF collection is sadly going to have to play second fiddle for a while so I can get this done. It should be noted that I’m slowly transitioning to 28mm since I now have room to play with this scale and they are the smallest usable (read distinguishable) figures if I ever make the leap into hosting my own zoom games.

The HYW will be on open terrain with the Never Mind The Billhooks rules, while the AVBCW stuff will be played out on distinct 4x4 boards using the 5 men at Kursk rule set. I’d originally chosen Lambshead’s dice less rules for AVBCW but they are quite lacking in section / platoon tactics and I’ve been impressed by some of the mechanisms in the Kursk rules. Oddly five men at Kursk caters for a lot more than 5 men and has bugger all to do with Kursk. 

Here are a few more pictures of the progress made since the last post. 

The French spearmen with pavises got a back row to fill them out to the required 12 figures.

Front view of another unit of French spears / town militia which has just rolled off the painting desk

The rear view as they run for the hills.

First six of the French men at arms. Easy to distinguish between the French and the English since the French do like a nice blouse. These guys need some mat varnish and flock on the bases. Note the banners carried here are intended to be « stiff » and they were made of buckram and such like to that very end. 

First three B.U.F. cabs off the rank. I think the sergeant is holding a Bergman SMG? I added a plaque below the lightning bolt sigil, upon which I intend to add « Britain Awake » or « Smethwick » since these lads are from the Smethwick Alarm Company. (Smethwick is in the West Midlands and is famous for its brewery and the fact the Oswald Moseley was elected as an MP there). 

And a back view…so I can pad the post out and make it look more substantial than it really is. I’ve gone for a gravel / tarmac base look since most of the gaming will be done in an urban environment. 

I digress. 

A major part of any rabbit hole I fall down is researching a new genre or period and it has to be said that 1930’s Britain was awash with fringe political groups - particularly on the right. Just as a taster this bunch is called the Kibo Kift. Google ’em up if you get a mo. 

They started as an arts and crafts / survivalist / nature spirit group and ended up being militant proponents of the Social Credit Movement, wearing paramilitary green uniforms and berets. Think angry scouts. They had the odd competitive tussle with Mosely and his bunch in the early days. 

Passionately held yet conflicting ideologies created a powder keg that could’ve created chaos both during the 1926 General Strike and the later AVBCW abdication crisis. The period is sufficiently interesting that I feel no need to pander to the more cartoony elements of AVBCW and I hope to keep it in a SCW sort of vein as far as possible.

It should be noted that some of the figures will probably do double duty in a future Sealion campaign too. Double bubble as Londoners used to say in the 80´s. Maybe. 

Oh I almost forgot, there’s loads of crappy, chock full of character, interwar vehicles I can plausibly field too. 

Like I need an excuse. 

Toodleooh mes amis.

Argie bargie on the A41

Worked through my 1926 game today using rules that were designed for single model skirmish stuff using playing cards instead of dice. It’s fair to say that it went at a right old clip (done and dusted in an hour) so here’s the report - in glorious Broom battle picture library format.

The Birmingham Corporation Airforce’s only plane - met up with the ammunition convoy from Liverpool and proceeded to scout out the road ahead. 

The convoy wends its way south. The vehicles with grey bases are unable to travel cross country without the a real chance of serious damage or becoming bogged.

The DH4 spots movement at the road junction below. Inspector Knacker’s lads from ‘K’ Division saw the red tail band and they let fly with their new rifles. In a departure from Lambshead’s rules I determined the actual damage caused to machinery by using my acme damage dice (in yellow). The rozzers scored one hit and the damage dice revealed a piston icon, meaning an engine hit. The DH4 began to smoke but remained flyable…for now.

Engine trouble! A second hit on the engine will bring the DH4 down. But I can’t fly it off the board without counting it as a loss - which will affect morale. (The plane was a mixed blessing. The use of planes is not really covered in Lambshead’s rules so I freestlyed a bit. While it can move a long distance in a single turn (24inches) it is vulnerable to ground fire and obviously can’t just hover in place so needs at least one precious action point per turn to keep it moving forward in the air). 

The forces of reaction were not slow in responding. Spurred on by the overflight and the sound of approaching vehicles, the Fascist blue shirts fired up Carlotta the armored car (donated by Mussolini) and raced across the field flanking the main road. As they emerged from the edge of a copse they saw the Liverpudlian convoy stretched out along the road to their left. A quick burst of fire at the lead armoured car raked it from stem to stern, two shield icons showed hits against the Austin’s baked bean tin armour. 

…followed by a hit on one of the vehicles turrets that disabled its port side machine gun.

The convoy was forced to a halt as the twin turreted vehicle swerved off the road and crashed into a tree.

The convoy ground to a halt. Alarmed by the armoured cars sudden appearance and the destruction it had wrought, the drivers of the ammunition truck and the lorry behind it veered off the road in order to find cover - risking the possibility of immobilising themselves in the process. Two squads of Workers Factory Defence volunteers debussed from their…erm…busses…and raced towards the hedge line while at the tail end of the convoy the Lanchester armoured car hared off across the field and the ex soldiers travelling in the military truck prepared to take the fight to the fascists.

Exploiting a change in initiative the squad of Workers Defence Force soldiers rush the Ernhardt armoured car and hurl a bunch of grenades at it. The car survives intact but the Vickers machine gun barrel is badly damaged and it is unable to fire back.

The reds remaining car (a Lanchester) heads across the fields with a view to flanking the blocking forces position. Unseen, but in the background, the Liverpool militia sneak along the hedge line with a similar intention.

Unable to fire and in danger of being overwhelmed the crew of Carlotta get the hell out of Dodge.

The DH4 limps around for another pass and manages to drop one of its cooper bombs in the dug out occupied by a squad of the Rotary Club Fencibles. They are marked as “downed” for now (a mixture of killed, wounded or just taking cover) rendering them useless until their actual combat status is reassessed at the end of a turn. 

The plucky aviators are on the receiving end of another fusillade from the ‘K’ Division coppers and the observer slumps over his bomb rack, badly wounded. 

 

Alerted by the bombs explosion the Liverpudlian flanking forces close in.

The red militia swarm over the defences and defeat the squad of downed fencibles in close combat. (The civilian militia squads only sport the odd handgun or shotgun - their close range offensive potential mostly being an array of blunt instruments). Unfortunately a second group, unaffected  by the dropped bomb, are waiting for them.

The fencibles fire…and miss as the angry dockers storm the second redoubt. Rushing over in support a squadra of British Fascisti blue shirts get there just in time...

…to see the redoubt defenders fall under the iron bar wielding scousers. The blue shirts are armed with rifles AND a Lewis gun and they let rip without sparing their ammo. Even as the Liverpool lads fell under this fusillade their second squad, who’d been following close behind, stormed out from behind the parked lorry. The blue shirt Corporal traversed swiftly and caught the newcomers before they could get to grips with his squadra. Then a joker was drawn which ended the turn. (All turns are of unknowable length in these rules - being triggered by the draw of that card from either players pack). During the brief admin phase that followed both sides just scraped through their morale checks - the reds hampered by their repudiation of all officers (and thereby failing to receive any morale boost from one).

One of the only bits of useful advice my father ever gave me is hereby shown to be true. “Never charge a light machine gun armed only with a pipe wrench”, he once cautioned. Thanks Dad. Wise words indeed. There were no survivors from the two red militia squads. The Lanchester armoured car drove forward and while trying to keep a respectable distance they hosed the truck and the blue shirts with their Vickers. The blue shirts hit the dirt…

Stuck in their mobile biscuit tin, the crew of the Lanchester were so focussed on the British Fascisti that they failed to notice the heroes of ‘K’ Division sneaking up on their left. When the vehicle commander popped his head up from the turret hatch to see what damage they’d done, he got coshed on the noggin by PC 289.
The driver ignored the cries of “your nicked sunshine” and backed the Lanchester out of harms way at full speed

The retreat of the Lanchester gave the following rifle armed ex squaddies a clear field of fire. As the DH4 swooped overhead and the soldiers fired at the rozzers another joker was drawn and in the admin phase that followed it was the remaining Fascisti and the coppers that broke and ran. After “persuading” the traction engine driver to move his mobile road block the way was cleared for the ammunition convoy to continue into Brum. 

So a victory for the revolutionaries on this occasion and a salutary lesson that the government shouldn’t place all its of its faith in small irregular forces. From here on in the few remaining loyal army units were going to be needed to enforce order. 

Taken a little out of context the rules worked well, and produced a pretty satisfying narrative.

I’ll try another one of these sometime soon I think.

Toodleooh.