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A journey through colour – Part 2. Colour theory

Source: Smarthistory.org who probably got it from somewhere else

So how do you actually mix your own colours? I have been quite amused by references in wargames publications to a mysterious “colour theory” by professional figure painters, and the occasional references to a colour wheel. They want to keep the whole process deeply obscure – though in the main they use hobby paints themselves. Artists are no better – they all seem to have their own way of looking at things and make it all rather bewildering. The theory itself is in fact quite complicated if you really get into the more modern updates. But you don’t need to. You just need to know a few basic principles, and understand that they don’t always work.

First the bleeding obvious. We are talking about mixing pigments and not light. Mixing light is much simpler and better understood – and works in a totally different way. When you see colour charts you first have to ask whether it is about mixing light or pigment.

The next point is key: colour theory is based on the idea that any colour has three characteristics. First is hue – this is what the colour wheel in the illustration describes; more on that later. Second is chroma; this is how bright or dull the colour is; the wheel shows the hues at maximum chroma – their brightest (and lightest at full saturation, as chroma decreases the colour gets darker until you reach black, which is zero chroma). Colours in the real world are usually duller. Finally there is saturation – this reflects how pale the colour is; the wheel shows the hues at maximum saturation. Again in the real world, outside saccharine TV commercials or fairytale Hollywood epics, most colour is unsaturated, or at least appears so to our eyes.

The traditional theory of colour mixing is simply this: first decide what hue you are aiming at, and achieve it by mixing two primaries. Say you want to get a mid-brown (i.e between terracotta and yellow-brown); the hue you want is secondary orange in the colour wheel above; you get this by mixing a primary red (say Cadmium Red) with a primary yellow (say Cadmium Yellow) or you may have an orange pigment already (like…er… Cadmium Orange). Next you achieve the chroma you are looking forward by dulling it down. You do this by mixing in the “complement” of the hue: the opposite hue on the colour wheel. In the case of orange the complement is primary blue – so you mix in some of this (say Ultramarine) into your orange until you get the right brown. Finally you decide on the saturation – and mix in some white (Titanium White or Zinc White) if you want it unsaturated. Simples.

But there are a number of problems, both practical and theoretical. First a word on the 12 category colour wheel in the picture. This construction seems popular amongst American writers. It’s fine so far as the primary and secondary colours go – but somebody decided to call the intermediate colours between the secondary and primary “tertiary”. I want to kill that person. There should be a “threeness” about the use of the word “tertiary” and there is no threeness about these hues. They remain mixes of two primaries, just in different proportions to the mid-secondaries. They are secondary colours in my book. Tertiary colours should refer to mixes of all three primaries – i.e. the lower chroma colours which should be in the middle of the wheel. But the widespread use of this terminology has poisoned the chance of using “tertiary” in that way in the wider world.

Which is a pity, because there should be much more attention paid to these true tertiaries. They should fit in the middle of the wheel. There should be a series of concentric rings inside the one representing full chroma colours, showing the effect of mixing in increasing proportions of the complement. And in the middle, representing a mix of all three primaries in equal weights, it is black. I have seen colour wheels constructed like this in books, but nothing on the web that I can freely publish here. I also made one myself by actually mixing pigments, but after my house move, I can’t find it. The true tertiaries are important for hobbyists, because, as I have already pointed out, the bulk of the colours we want are lower-chroma.

Before I move on , though, I just need to deal with another aspect of colour theory and the colour wheel. That relates to composition – i.e. what colours “go with” others. This matters to artists – and there are various theories they can use if they want to (triads, warm and cool colours, etc). I have seen at least one hobby writer trying to invoke this use of the wheel. He suggested that each colour on the wheel goes with its complement, giving the pairings of red-green, blue-orange and yellow-purple. He illustrated it with some Gauls painted like American Football teams. Don’t try this when making wardrobe suggestions to your partner. The complement pairings provide maximum contrast in hue – or in other terms they “clash”. That works well in sports strips and jockey’s colours, but not so much elsewhere. Besides you get a pretty decent contrast between each of the primary colours (or the secondaries for that matter) without going the whole hog. Incidentally, if contrast matters, then lower chroma or lower saturation reduces contrast (if applied to both parts of a pairing), so increased contrast of hue becomes more significant. But the big point is that wargamers’ colour choices are dictated by things other than what goes with what – you want to make things look like an original. Perhaps we should pay more attention to colour the composition of our regiments and tables, but that invites a host of practical issues. When it comes to colour choices, intuition is a better guide than theory – it’s best to take inspiration from things you see in pictures, or tables you see in shows. Leave this part of colour theory well alone.

The theory I have just outlined was developed in the 19th century. Modern minds have examined it further, and tried to reconcile it with the better-understood mixing of coloured light. It rapidly started to fall apart. It turns out that different pigments have a tendency to cancel each other out, and the actual results of mixing them are far more complicated, and far more dependent on the individual properties of particular pigments. And then colour printer ink makers had to develop their own system. They found that magenta worked better as a primary colour than red, and cyan (on the green side of blue) worked better than blue. They also found the need to use black. For your interest I have found this modernised version of the colour wheel. The inner ring is the more traditional one..

This is interesting so for as an insight into how you turn pixels of light into printer ink combinations. No so useful for mixing artists’ pigments. The there segments of green are very close. The traditional wheel was developed because it was practical, and it still is. But it is worth remembering that the “primaries” of red and mid-blue aren’t the last word. You can get a scarlet by mixing magenta with yellow, while it is hard to get a decent cyan by mixing yellow with blue.

Another thing is worth pointing out at this stage. Saturation affects our eye’s perception of the hue. If you mix white in with a fully saturated red, it turns pink, as every school child knows – pink is closer to magenta in hue than the original red. Also if you mix white in with deep blue, you get something that looks a bit like cyan. And if you mix white into orange you get close to the colour of Caucasian flesh, which looks pinker in hue. For this reason, artists don’t add in the white at the end. They decide on the saturation level early and mix it in from the start.

A further aside is that while you can achieve a lot in theory by mix three bright primary pigments and white, for hobbyists, who are aiming for dull colours, it is easier to start with duller pigments.

In summary the concepts of hue, chroma and saturation are useful, as is the idea of three primary hues. But the pigments can behave unexpectedly when mixed. It is time to meet the pigments.

Next time: the wargamers’ palette.

A journey through colour. Part 1 – learning the hard way

Blasts from the past. On the right is my last pot from the Humbrol Enamel range I used in the 1970s (though as polyurethane varnish, not strictly enamel). Next to it is the last tube from the artist acrylics I experimented with in the late 70s. This was quite a nice one approximating to “French Dragoon Green” – but I rarely use it these days. The Cadmium Red Hue on the left is almost as old, and I’m still using it.

I have long been meaning to share my journey on the use of paint in the hobby. I am in a small minority that use artists’ paints rather than hobby paints. I have thought of trying to compose something for publication in one of the magazines – but I think it is best to start here, with something a bit less tightly edited. It will take more than one article. In this one I will set the scene by recounting my journey. I don’t expect to make any converts – but if I do, I can save them a lot of trouble. But a lot of what I have learnt will help anybody that uses paint in the hobby.

But first: why? The problem with hobby paints is that they encourage a painting-by-numbers approach. Hobbyists look for the exact shade they need straight out of bottle. Hobby paint providers enthusiastically cater for this market, and in no time hobbyists build up stocks of scores of paints. One manufacturer even provides separate products for highlights and lowlights – encouraging you to buy three bottles instead of one for any bulk application. Contrast this with the artist’s approach: a typical “palette” has no more than ten different “pigments” – from which all the multifarious hues on a painting are composed. Often palettes are even more restricted that that. A hobbyist needs no more than a dozen different kinds of paint for anything they are likely to do using the artists’ approach. A 59ml tube of Liquitex Heavy Body Acrylic (the sort I like best) costs about £7, and lasts forever. Vallejo hobby paints (the brand leader) comes in 17ml bottles costing £3. Even assuming that 17ml is enough to last for ages too (you should need to use less of each paint), you are likely to acquire way more than three dozen. In fact I have over 30 tubes of artists acrylic pigments – but half of them I rarely use. That’s all part of the journey that I wish to share – you don’t need as many pigments as you might think at first.

Then there is something else: mixing your own colours – which is what using artists’ paints is all about – gives you control and understanding. You break out of the prison of hobby conventions and scouring forums and articles for recommendations of what is the right colour for French dragoon coats, for example. You then start looking at the world in a different way, with a much greater understanding of colour. Hobbyists tend to make basic mistakes – typically using over-saturated colours. I might add that mixing your own gives more variation and “life” to your creations – though that is a hard point to prove. Having learnt almost entirely the hard way, it has been a long journey for me. But an enjoyable one – and I wouldn’t dream of going back to hobby paints.

I started the hobby in the 1970s (or even 1960s if you count making Airfix kits), with Airfix models and plastic soldiers. Back then I did what almost everybody else did – I used Humbrol enamel hobby paints. Humbrol brought out a range of “authentic” colours – which allegedly matched the actual colours used – I think they did a special green for those French dragoons – and I became addicted to these. I owned probably approaching one hundred of the little tins. I only recently threw them away, apart from the one tin of gloss varnish in the picture.

My wargaming came to an abrupt halt in 1979. I graduated from university and started training as an accountant. Furthermore, my parents moved out of London (where I was working), leaving me to live in a series of bedsits and one-bed flats. I didn’t have room or the time to pursue the hobby in any serious way. That changed in 1984 when I at last bought my own flat (at the age of 26 and without parental assistance – how times change!). I now had the space to pursue a hobby I had never forgotten. But I decided to do things differently. For a start I was going to use 15mm metal miniatures (starting with Minifigs). I also decided to start using acrylic paints, to complement and the eventually take over from the enamels. I had read a lot about how acrylics were the better than those nasty smelly enamels, and so I decided to make the change.

But what I thought people meant by “acrylics” was the artists paints I saw on sale at W.H Smiths – not the hobby paints that people were doubtless actually referring to. So my whole journey started on a false premise. I actually started experimenting with these in the 1970s, but I became more serious in the 1980s and used them more and more. It was not especially satisfactory because I still had the hobbyist mindset. I was expecting the colour coming out of the tube to be pretty close to the end result. I started to acquire lots of different pigments. But that is not what artists’ paints are for. It took me an incredibly long time to grasp this, but once I did, my outlook was transformed.

How I used to think was something like this: all things have a colour; when painting a model or miniature the idea is to replicate this colour as closely as possible; you then look for a paint that gets as closely as possible to this and tweak as necessary. This is complicated only slightly by such ideas as the “scale effect”, which says that smaller scale models should be paler to replicate the effect of atmosphere on viewing at distance. You simply mixed in a bit of white if you wanted to reflect this. Artists have a completely different approach. They start with the end effect they want to achieve, allowing that this has a strong subjective element (or in the case of abstract art – 100% subjective). It is not a question of accuracy, but whether it looks right. Colour isn’t a property of the object you are depicting – it is how your brain interprets the information from your eye. The colour when viewing that object close up under neutral light (however you define that…) is only one factor. Things look different, for example, when viewed on a cloudy day than they do in bright sunlight. They then construct this colour from a small number of paints – the “pigments” – which they call a “palette”. The pigments represent colours with a chemical simplicity, or simplicity of source. (This isn’t entirely true though – there a re some mixed pigments in use, like Payne’s Grey, and modern manufacturers make “hues” which are mixes to replicate traditional pigments which are not widely produced any more due to toxicity, etc.) This is a world away from hobby paints, which are ready-made mixtures of pigments to achieve a particular colour.

For me the penny didn’t really drop until I bought a book on how to mix paints. It was one of those great moments of revelation. A whole new world opened up. Alas I overdid it. I rushed out to buy yet more pigments, to cover parts of the colour wheel that were missing. Many of these, a purple and a magenta for example, I have barely used. There are important differences between how artists and hobbyists use colour, which affect the hobbyist’s palette. The first is the question of vibrancy. This is a quality artists often seek, and it is why they chase bright pigments, and mix these with care. But, unless they are going for the toy soldier look, wargamers rarely chase vibrancy. They seek a sort of authenticity of presentation that reflects weathering, cheap dyes and camouflage. In ancient and medieval times, bright dyes were expensive and the preserve a small elite. The bulk of the soldiery used cheap and dull dyes, or undyed cloth. These then got even duller as people lived in their clothes in the great outdoors, exposed to rain or sunlight, to say nothing of mud and dust. This was followed by a brief age where most uniforms were designed to be bright – in the 18th and 19th centuries – but even here the problems with dyes and weathering persisted. There may have been a brief moment towards the end of the 19th Century when advances in chemistry allowed cheap, bright dyes. But by this time camouflage was coming in: soldiers and their equipment became deliberately dull. And there’s another factor: we want an outdoorsy look to our gaming tables, and that dulls things down too – a matter of lighting and atmosphere. All this makes the job of a wargames painter much easier than for the typical artists – though, of course, that depends on the art being created. Artists complain that if they get their mixing a bit wrong they end up with something looking like mud; for a warmer variations on mud is often what they seek. Things are also quite easy for hobbyists looking for the toy soldier vibe: the colours are bright, but they are also simple. This highlights another difference between the hobbyist and the typical artist: the quest for exactitude. Artists are not after the false exactitude of accuracy, but they often care deeply about the precise hues of the colours they create, and especially how they bounce off each other in a particular composition. This really isn’t worth hobbyists worrying about. A degree of consistency across a wargames table improves the appearance – but getting the reds, greens and khakis exactly “right” matters little. I once tried devising mixes for the three (or is it four?) types of red in use by the Prussian army for facings. But I really couldn’t tell the difference on an 18mm figure at arm’s length.

Now I was fully converted to an understanding of colour, and at time when my hobby painting activity started to take off with my early retirement. Firstly I applied the new found knowledge to Napoleonics. This was, and is, a good place to start, as the colours are very basic. I found I could paint a French infantryman with just four pigments: Titanium White, Raw Umber, Cadmium Red and Prussian Blue. That included the black shako and the flesh. Not quite true: I still needed the metallics of silver and gold for some of the details. I only needed the red for the facings (though it also helped with the mix for the face) – and having one of the lighter brown Siennas to hand was helpful (in point of act I could have replaced the Raw Umber with one of these Siennas entirely – but some of the mixes would be a bit more difficult).

With my confidence built on Napoleonics, I broke into WW2. When I embarked on the journey, I had always considered this too difficult. But by the time I reached my first WW2 project, some German vehicles in 20mm, I was too far gone. I was not going to be dependent on some paint manufacturer’s interpretation. Dull colours are complex ones – involving all three primary colours in relatively high proportions. Small tweaks to the colour mix have a big impact, and can take it in completely the wrong direction. So it proved. I made several attempts at German Dunkelgelb before getting something I found acceptable. And even that first attempt, on some Panzer IIIs, looks to my current eye as being closer to the German desert colour Braun than Dunkelgelb – which as it happens was just as appropriate fro a Panzer III in 1943. But slowly I have got the hang of it. I have even got as far as painting WW2 aircraft, though my first attempt at RAF desert colours was not entirely successful.

It’s been a long journey, and I’ve learnt a lot. Above all I have achieved an understanding of colour, and a sense of control over the whole process.

Next time: colour theory

Twilight of the Emperor – gilding the lily

Twilight of the Sun King is one of the most interesting, and I would say important, rule systems out there. It has a simple but ingenious game mechanism, which does away with much of the paraphernalia of traditional wargames rules, making it particularly useful for bigger games. It was originally designed for the wars of Louis XIV (the Sun King). These new rules represent an adaptation for the Napoleonic era. Based on a preliminary read through, though, I have very mixed feelings about it.

This is the first time that I have bought any rules based on this system – even though the Great Northern War is one of my periods, and that is contemporary with the wars of the Sun King – and they were recommended by one of the readers of this blog. I didn’t really understand what the fuss was about until I read an article in Wargames Illustrated by Bill Gray, my favourite regular contributor to a magazine that I find increasingly disappointing. He gave a thumbnail description in July 2023 edition in the occasional “Why I love…” series. The system is so simple that an overview is actually most of it. Bill describes the system that he uses (“TWIGLET Redux”), which is based on the original, rather than subsequent published editions. I was blown away the elegance of the design. I immediately started culling it for ideas for my nascent system for Bismarck’s Wars. Each side moves alternately. The move starts with a morale phase, where each unit that is under fire or in contact with enemy units tests. Units can withstand a certain number of fails (typically 4) before being removed. This test, using two D6, or average dice, is kept very simple, with a minimum of modifiers. There are no automatic retreats or other such refinements – it is up to the players themselves to remove battered units from danger before they are destroyed and concede real estate. After morale there is movement; some moves can be carried out without more ado (advancing straight forward, for example), others require a score of 3 on a D6 , with again very few modifiers. This is followed by a targeting phase, where the player specifies which of the other side’s units are under fire. And that is pretty much that. No separate firing or close combat processes; no elaborate protocols for retreating or following up after combat, no high-flown activation system. Some sort of army morale system to end the game before it gets interminable is advisable.

So how does Twilight of the Emperor (henceforth TotE) work? The basic structure is there, sure enough, but the author, Nicholas Dorrell (not the originator of the system, who was Steven Thomas in 1995, based on earlier ideas by Steven Simpson – with later versions by Andrew Coleby) adds in a lot more complexity to reflect the developments of this later era. These are in three main areas. First is command. Units are brigade-sized, putting it in the same space as systems like Sam Mustafa’s Blücher, or earlier Grande Armée (brigades can be standard, small, large or tiny…); these are organised into divisions or corps. This, apparently, wasn’t built into the Sun King version – but the changes are quite simple. A command figure for divisions (if merited) or corps can influence morale or movement tests. The second main way is a reflection of tactics. Each unit can adopt one of a number of modes, broadly reflecting column, line, square or skirmish – with a distinction between British and other lines. This is where the trouble starts, because it inevitably builds in a lot more complexity.

And the third area of Napoleonic detail is in troops types. Mounted troops are not just split into light horse (cossacks, etc.) and cavalry, but cavalry into heavy, medium, light and lancers, as well as battle cavalry and other. Artillery can be organised into battalions, brigades or boost individual units. British doctrine is distinguished from “Continental” (the British use of that word to refer to other Europeans is a personal bugbear, but that’s another story), and various other differences in national doctrine are recognised. All this complexity means that the quick reference sheet extends to four sides of A4, though not especially densely packed, admittedly. The morale test takes up nearly two sides. The original would surely require a single side for the whole thing. Added to this the author wants to reflect additional troop grades. In the original there are just three: Trained, Elite (+1 on morale tests) and Raw ( -1). The problem is that if the modifiers get any larger, they would have a major distortionary effect. In these rules (optionally), you can grade Trained troops from A to E; these can be randomly promoted or demoted to Elite or Raw depending on grade (so and A gets a 50% chance of promotion, an E gets a 50% chance of demotion, etc.) – a couple of optional systems are presented to do this (e.g. permanently assigned on first test). This is admittedly a self-contained aspect of the rules that can be left out (and doesn’t make it to the QR sheets) – but it is another thing to do in game play, and needs to be kept track of.

This level of complexity is just not what I expect from a set of rules in the big battle space. Sam Mustafa’s two big-battle systems don’t bother with distinguishing between the use of different tactical formations; they have a simplified systems of dealing with troop quality and type. Ditto for Chris Pringle’s Bloody Big Battles, though this is not specifically designed for this era it is used for Napoleonics with some amendments. Having spent a lot of my life writing and adapting big battle rules I haven’t seen the need for such complexity either. If you want that sort of thing it’s better to drop down a level to rules where the main unit is a battalion – mis-named Général d’Armée or Lasalle (which is still pretty stripped down) for example. There was an opportunity to keep the QR sheet down to a single side, which was lost.

Of course, this is a matter of personal taste. To many players the extra twists on tactics and troop types are the very joy and essence of Napoleonic wargames. I remember the thrill of Bruce Quarrie’s Airfix Magazine Guide back in the 1970s, which opened my eyes to the wonderful world of Napoleonic wargaming. The complexity was part of the joy. If that is how you feel, then this system may be a clever way of bringing that complexity to big battle rules. I haven’t tried playing them, so they may well flow quickly once you get used to them. But the three page player guide included in the booklet seems to revel in the number of decisions the player needs to make – and if there is one thing guaranteed to slow play, it is giving players too many choices. You pays your money and you makes your choice.

A couple of other aspects of the rules caused me to raise an eyebrow. Quite a few words are devoted to ideas of flank or rear support, which can affect morale tests (depending on formation). A second is that units in contact with the enemy require a successful morale test to break off. Neither of these get a mention in Bill Gray’s TWIGLET – and indeed the ability to break off combat (subject to a movement test) is one of the design features that Bill really likes. These may well reflect modifications made later in the official evolution, before TotE. Both seem to there to persuade players to adopt what are deemed to be historical deployments and tactics – rather than letting the merits of the tactical situation do so.

So, my view is that the designers of this system have taken an elegant system for big battles and moved it towards more mainstream systems, and gilding the lily. This may be to your taste, but it is not to mine. So, how would I adapt the original model for the Napoleonic era? We need to go back to what the main differences between warfare in the two eras at the big battle level. The first is that armies were much more articulated into separate divisions and (sometimes) corps each under the command of a general, often on a campaign basis, rather than just for the day. This idea was embedded into pretty much all armies by the time of the late Revolutionary wars (i.e. from 1799) and quite possibly from way before that. The corollary of this was that the divisions could tolerate operating at some distance from their neighbours – and were much less worried about exposed flanks than in earlier eras. That reflected tactical developments in the manoeuvre of battalions, with the use of columns and squares, or simply with much better drilling of the troops allowing rapid changes of facing. TotE’s command rules make sense, with more commanders on the field than for earlier versions. But how to reflect the more sophisticated tactical handling? It should be harder to conduct flank attacks – the typical solution is that these must be delivered from behind the front of the target (which TotE does). I would suggest that all attacks require a movement test – rather than just frontal attacks. There is a case for some special cavalry v. infantry rules incorporating squares – which trade protection against cavalry for manoeuvre and vulnerability to artillery. But this rapidly turns into a nightmare and I wouldn’t be inclined to go down that route. That means doing away with the paper-scissors-stone aspect of Napoleonic tactics, but I don’t think that was a big battle thing.

How about representing different troop types? The first thing is to tolerate much less variation. The critical question is how much different types of troops were used in different ways by generals of the time. If you can’t find much of a difference in role, it shouldn’t go into the rules. For example, at the big battle level there is no point in having a separate classification for lancers, which were another version of general-purpose cavalry. There isn’t much of a case for treating French dragoons as different from hussars or chasseurs either, for example, at least on the battlefield (a different matter for the British). If you feel the need to make distinctions then one way is to give some units special abilities in one aspect of the game – for example a bonus/penalty on the movement tests, or particular morale tests (just close combat, say). The simplicity of the Twilight system admittedly makes that harder. Perhaps give some troops a the elite bonus on some morale tests but not others (close combat but not firing, or vice versa), or a demotion if facing particular troop types.

When adapting the system to my own rules (starting with the Bismarck era ones) there are couple of other things I would do. First I would drop brigades from the tabletop organisation, and articulate each division into a number bases depending on the number of men (one base for 1,000 infantry or 350 cavalry, say) not necessarily corresponding to actual historical units, and move these as individual elements, with a bonus when the are joined together in bigger combinations. This latter can be enforced using a PIP (movement points based on a D6 score, say) system for each division, perhaps replacing the movement test altogether. This would then be a blend of Twilight and DBA (De Bellis Antiquitatis – Phil Barker’s revolutionary system which started the fashion for stripped-down rules). And then I plan to replace the morale test dice throw with a card draw. But that’s another story.

In conclusion I would say that the Twilight system can be used for Napoleonic battles, but I would stay closer to simplicity of the original, and try to get the QR sheet down to a single sheet. But that really is just down to personal taste.

GDA2 – lessons from first game

Our game not far from when we finished. At the top right the French cavalry’s flank attack is in progress

My hobby year started off with real momentum. But this crashed to halt in early April, and I’ve made little progress since. A combination of holiday trips, a family crisis and gardening conspired to divert me. I can’t see myself getting back to the hobby room for a few weeks yet. The one bright spot is that I have kept the games going, with my two regular monthly groups, and I have had time to explore new set of rules: Général d’Armée 2 (the published rules don’t bother with the accents: I’m just being nerdy) – known hereon in as GDA2. I have already posted my first reactions. At the start of the month I played my first game with a couple of people at the club.

For this game I went for a similar scenario to my first club game of Lasalle 2, a very different game system, but in a similar space in terms of the scaling. A Prussian brigade of 9 battalions plus two cavalry regiments and two batteries attacks a French division of 10 smaller battalions and two cavalry regiments and two batteries. We used my normal Napoleonics, on 25mm bases, with four bases to a standard unit, and six for a large one (the Prussian infantry were in large units). Because of this small base size, we used the 28mm distances, but in centimetres rather than inches. We played on the same field size I have used for Lasalle 2 – 40in by 60 in, rather than the full 4 ft by 6 ft. Following my concerns about the complexity of the game, we decided to leave some of the rules out, notably the menu of ADC tastings, including the C-in-C commands. My fellow players provided the tokens, including a set of casualty trackers using rotating number devices (which can be seen in the picture – adorned with casualty figures).

The game itself proved a bit lacklustre. The Prussians moved to an infantry attack, but this took too long to develop. The French decided to send their cavalry round their left flank. This again took time, but they were able to deliver a devastating attack on the Prussian cavalry, catching it in the flank, and driving it from the field, causing complete disarray on the Prussian side. At this point we ran out of time. Subsequently we realised that this flank attack should have been kicked off with a Redeploy tasking, which the French player forgot to do – as the cavalry started off in the centre rear. that wouldn’t have been too hard, though.

Clearly the learning curve meant that we were slow. In a learning game it is worth taking time to refer back to the rules a lot. We decided that my attempts to simplify the game didn’t really work – and especially that the CinC intervention rules were critical to the balance of play. We also felt that the scaling didn’t work, as it was taking too long for the combat to develop – even after I allowed the attacking side to deploy much further in than the rulebook suggested. We decided next time to use the full rulebook, and the standard 15mm scaling, though using a 6ft by 4 ft playing area. The unit sizes would need to be kept the same, though, as I don’t have enough miniatures for the six-base standard battalions that you should really have for this scaling.

For all the frustrations we decided that the rule system has an excellent Napoleonic feel, and that this would be our standard Napoleonic system for club games.

It is also clear is that the game’s name is a misnomer. “Général de Division” would give a more realistic idea of the scope. Though the rules do provide for the use of an army corps, this would still need a very large playing area – or smaller scale miniatures. In the latter case, though, our experience is that there is a danger of things being too slow – though I do see Facebook reports of it being done successfully. I will resume development of my own big battle rules.

Alas, I am going to miss the next club day at the beginning of July. However, I have promised to lead a game at my other regular venue, which should entail two players a side. I plan to use the Gilly scenario from the 100 Days book (although this is not a historically accurate reflection of that encounter, on the evening before Ligny). I’m hoping that some of the other players will have some experience of the game – and I will certainly bone up on the rules – as we need to keep it reasonably brisk to get through ten moves.

General D’Armée 2 – first impressions

I have been using Lasalle 2 for my club wargames, gradually working through the scenarios in the rule book. But I’m tiring of it. It is far too abstracted and too gamey – by which I mean the players is more concerned with the operation of game mechanisms than things that a historical commander might consider. Many important features of a Napoleonic battlefield (such as generals and skirmishers) are abstracted away. In my last game I found myself pushing my cavalry towards a random patch of earth because it represented a victory point. This allowed me to snatch a draw from a losing game – and it felt like a lot of nonsense. It’s always possible to rationalise explanations when odd things happen, but I prefer it when tabletop events look more historically plausible. At the same meeting, one of the other club members raved about the General d’Armée 2nd edition rules. I have also seen being praised by some members of my last club – so I thought it was time to investigate.

Now I had heard about GDA and GDA2 before – but because they were designed around divisional or corps-sized games, I had not investigated further. My main focus is bigger battles – and I thought that the well-written Lasalle 2 rules would suffice for club games. But if these rules were gaining popularity at my club, then they were surely worth a look. So I went to the Reisswitz Press section of the Too Fat Lardies website and ordered the pdf and hard copy package. I wasn’t disappointed.

I discovered that they covered remarkably similar space to Lasalle 2 – the typical two-player encounter would be between forces of four to six brigades – being a reinforced division. The basic unit is a battalion for both with typically four bases (this uniform in Lasalle 2 but there is variation in GDA2), allowing only the most basic of formations to be represented: line, column and square – with the column representing all manner of different column types. They are both carefully written. GDA2 covers some 90 pages of A4; Lasalle 2 has some 120 pages of smaller 7in by 10in paper. But GDA2 feels much weightier. More space is given to diagrams in Lasalle 2, and the writing is more spaced out. And Lasalle 2 is split between basic rules (100 pages) and advanced rules. There is no basic game in GDA2 – you plunge straight into the advanced game equivalent. Its quick reference sheets are a full four sides of closely packed A4, with many more tables and categories than Lasalle 2 (whose QR is much briefer but leaves too much out).

My most recent club game of Lasalle 2. My French are attacking the Prussians from the right. You can see my cavalry passing the cornfield on the right centre and heading for that lone tree in the distance – which marks a victory point. I am in the process of overwhelming the village in the foreground. But in the distance on the left Rod’s combined arms attack is about to cause some serious havoc. Great game but it doesn’t feel historical – a problem GDA2 should fix.

Quite a lot is abstracted away in GDA2, of course. But it feels much less. The generals are represented on the table and issue what amount to orders. There are skirmish bases rather than an off-table system. You need a dozen or so hits to destroy a unit in GDA2, rather than the typical seven in Lasalle 2. There are more unit statuses; in Lasalle 2 units are fresh, shaken or broken (though their effectiveness diminishes with each hit); in GDA units can be unformed, brigades can be hesitant, and so on. Somehow GDA2 feels much more serious and detailed.

Write-ups for GDA2 suggest that its the critical innovation in game design is the allocation of Aides-de-Campe (ADCs) from the commander to the brigades. This is a bit oversold. The ADC system is really a variation on the old idea of command points or command capacity. They only superficially represent the role of real ADCs. I have had the idea of using ADC figures to represent command points for allocation each turn in my own rule systems. It is a good idea though – contemporary prints of battles often show individual horseman charging around the field, as well as skirmishers, and these prints should be an inspiration for the tabletop, as they operate under similar constraints. What is much more interesting are the stylised orders that these ADCs transmit, which operate at brigade level – they are called “Taskings”, terminology that I dislike: surely “orders” would be better. They are supplemented by “C-in-C Commands” to represent the impact of the commander taking personal control, which can only happen a limited number of times. Brigades can’t do very much without these orders. This system achieves the same thing as MO in Lasalle 2, but it is less abstracted. It is much easier to understand what is actually supposed to be going on on the field.

One interesting aspect of the brigade order system is that only one unit in a brigade can charge per turn. Amongst other things this stops the wargames tactic of two or more columns ganging up on a unit deployed in line (which happened in my last game but one of Lasalle 2), which is totally unhistorical – a function of how different a wargames tabletop is from a real battlefield. This is an arbitrary rule but a very sound idea.

The turn itself follows a fairly classic Igo-Ugo format, with different phases for command, charges, movement, firing and close combat, each played alternately. This has the big advantage of making multi-player games easier to run – though only one player can allocate the ADCs. The more complex card-driven or other systems so fashionable in modern wargames systems can produce interesting game situations, but are harder to rationalise. They are more suited to skirmish games than one where each commander dominates the whole field of play – as was the case in Napoleonic battles at this level – though perhaps less so for big multi-corps situations. The need to manage multiplayer games without players from the same side having to wait for each other all the time is still the best reason for the traditional alternate move system – and it’s an important consideration for me. It’s the big weakness of Lasalle 2, though the author does make suggestions as to how to run multiplayer games.

There will always be things in a rule system to quibble over from somebody that has been into wargaming and Napoleonic history as long as I have. From a gaming point of view my biggest one is that I would have much preferred a simplified basic game, to which more complexities can be added as people get the hang of it. It’s not hard to see how that might be done. The basic game would focus solely on divisional encounters (the rules do cater for corps games too), with a reduced menu of ADC Taskings (leave out CinC Command, Skirmishers, Artillery Assault, Scouts and Reserve) – and the CinC Commands altogether. No reserves, scouting, simplified troops types, no light infantry skirmish deployment or reinforcing skirmish screens (or you could leave out the skirmish screen altogether), and simplify the troops types a bit (no drilled or enthusiastic) and do away with small (and perhaps large) units. I’m tempted to create such a basic version myself, but currently I have bigger priorities for my limited hobby time. As it is taking on my first game with my usual club partner is going to be a bit daunting.

Other quibbles are pretty minor. I don’t buy the logic that six and eight gun batteries are the same at this level (“If simply having more guns guaranteed superior firepower, then surely every nation would have deployed 12 gun batteries,” the author asks. Then why didn’t everybody use six-gun ones?). It wouldn’t have be too hard to build a bit more depth to the larger batteries, even if there is no firepower distinction. The author isn’t familiar with later Prussian command doctrine, whereby commands at “brigade” level (i.e. the game brigade – the actual Prussian Brigade is a game division) were task-oriented, and it was usual for them to be composed of battalions from two or three different regiments. I would like to see the ability to form converged howitzer batteries. I’m a little less than convinced by the skirmish rules, especially what the deployment of light battalions into full skirmish actually means. It would be pretty much impossible to deploy a whole battalion into skirmish order and to maintain any meaningful control of it – it would disperse over a very wide area. This presumably actually means some combination of a dense screen and formed reserves. And I don’t think this happened much (or at all?) in the Empire era. Commanders often reinforced skirmish screens by drawing off companies/third ranks from formed units – but the rules provide for this already. And yet this is all grumpy old man territory – the issues are either easy to fix or don’t really matter.

The important thing is that these rules are steeped in a Napoleonic feel. Achieving this with relatively simple game mechanisms is quite a feat. Incidentally, I don’t think they would work that well for either Seven Years War, or the mid-19th Century ones. I really want to give these rules a go!

Which leaves the question of how I adapt my Napoleonic armies to the system. I have 18mm men on bases 25mm square (with some on 30mm squares) – six infantry or two cavalry per base. Artillery are on 35-45mm bases. I also have skirmisher bases which are 25mm by 15mm deep, with a pair of figures. The rules say that a standard battalion should have a frontage of about the same as musket range. On the standard scale for 15mm troops (1mm to a yard), this would mean 15cm. That’s six bases (or five if they are 30mm) – with say 8 bases for a large unit (which would be normal for my 1815 Prussians). This is a lot of metal: 36 miniatures for a standard battalion, though it would doubtless be visually impressive. I would prefer to use the basing I already use for Lasalle 2 – four bases to a standard unit, six bases for a large one (using house rules). That would mean using the recommended distance scale for 10mm miniatures – where musket range is 9cm. That’s a bit tight, but it roughly equates to what I’ve been using for Lasalle 2 in terms of distances (musket range is four base-widths). The distances in GDA2 are all (almost) in units of 50 yards – which is 5cm for 15mm, 3in for 28mm, and 3cm for 10mm. So I could try 4cm for 50 yards. – but then all the QRFs etc would have to be redone. Batteries would be two bases, as per Lasalle 2.

In breaking news, I have already agreed to have my first game this coming weekend at the club. And somebody is bringing a set of status markers – which you are encouraged to buy separately, as there are no printable sheets, but which are out of stock. We still have to mark casualties somehow. I think I might stick to pipe cleaners with yellow/white being singles and red being 5s. I will try and simplify the rules (i.e. leave bits of the standard game out).

My aim is to try this system out for club games with generally non-historical scenarios – in place of Lasalle 2 (perhaps using Lasalle scenarios). For big, historical battles, like Ligny, I still want to develop a different system. The authors suggest that GDA2 can be “bathtubbed” for bigger battles, with each unit representing a brigade, and so on up. That’s not a bad idea, but I prefer systems developed specifically for the scale. Anyway, watch this space!

Using Oxford Diecasts for wargames

Making up and painting models from kits and castings is a faff. What about buying die cast models ready assembled and painted? A bit more expensive, but not that much, and less trouble. For my most recent project I decided to try a couple of models from Oxford Diecast. These were a Bedford OYD 3-ton truck, and a Dorchester Armoured Command Vehicle (ACV). The former was to provide a bit more variety to my transport (dominated by Bedford QL trucks), the latter to act as brigade command vehicle for my British at Medinine and doubtless subsequent scenarios. Here’s what I found.

Firstly these are marketed as collectors’ items and not as wargames models. They come in nice plastic display boxes, screwed to the base. For tabletop use you have to unscrew them – and you then have the display boxes to throw away or repurpose (or leave hanging around while you try and think of how you might repurpose them). Once out, the models are nicely detailed and beautifully finished. They also handle nicely. The Bedford even rolls one its wheels. Unfortunately the Dorchester’s front wheels don’t fit properly and are jammed against the wheel arch. They are quite small – true 1/76 scale I would guess without measuring them. Alas I’m finding that “20mm” models come in a range of scales. If the 20mm is meant to come up to eye level – itself a bit of a scale creep definition (it should really take you to the top of the head) – then the scale should be about 1/80. All 20mm products are bigger than this that I have seen. Plastic Soldier has 20mm in the range description, and 23mm in the instruction leaflet (about 1/70 in my book) – and maybe a bit bigger even than. So these models are at the smaller end of the range, but consistent with Airfix vehicle kits, old and new, for example, and models from the likes of Milicast and SHQ.

Here’s the OYD next to my Airfix QLD to give an idea of size:

One obvious difference is that the die cast models come with windows – though in fact I could have put these into the QLD in this case. Most wargames models either have the windows completely open, or, now more common in the age of 3-D printing, moulded solid. There is no driver model, and adding one would mean disassembly and potential damage. You would also struggle to find space.

The next issue is finish. These models are painted in authentic colours (they match precisely to the colours in my reference book on WW2 colours). That means there is no attempt to lighten them up to replicate the scale effect, which is something I like to do. This is a complicated topic with “that depends” type answers – it basically means that they look best representing originals in in strong light, and this is clearly the standard for display models. On the wargames table they will be a bit dark. There is also a slight off-matt finish – appropriate for a parade ground rather than the battlefield. The tilt on the Bedford is plastic, and the finish a bit plasticky. The decals are lovely and intricate, going down to serial numbers, etc, which I don’t bother with.

So how about incorporating these vehicles into my 1943 tabletop army? Take the truck first. This is modelled on a vehicle in the 15th (Scottish) Division in the UK in 1943 in the artillery. The paint scheme is fine for 1943 First Army in Tunisia. And second-line vehicles might well not be repainted for later campaigns. The divisional marking is not correct – but this can be removed rather than replaced, as these aren’t very 1943 in theatre. Perhaps it should have a roundel on the roof for air identification (the white stars were not used by the British in this theatre, even later in the war). Removing the divisional decal would be quite delicate work, though – but I do have some very fine sandpaper. To integrate with my army at large the model will need to be weathered – though this feels a bit sacrilegious on such a nicely finished model. I think this would take the form of a little white oil paint, brushed very thin, which would help lighten it up, as well as representing slightly uneven discolouration. And then dusting with powdered pastel. I don’t think there is the need for a wash.

The Dorchester is another matter. This represents a vehicle in use by the Polish Armoured Division in Northwest Europe in 1945. In fact the camouflage scheme is similar to the Bedford (brown and blue-black) and OK for 1943. But unlike the trucks, these vehicles were nearer the front line and surely would have adopted one of the standard or ad-hoc camouflage schemes. This might be the Desert Pink (appropriate for Medinine), Light Mud (Sicily and Italy) or plastered with lighter coloured paint ad-hoc (First Army Tunisia). But it does look as if I should repaint this, using the airbrush. That gets round the issue of the decals, which would be overpainted rather than sanded off. At least I don’t have to worry about the windscreen and windows.

So the models will need some work to be table-ready, and I should reserve my final judgement. I don’t see myself buying many more, though.

British vehicles for 1943

The three Bedfords. The QLT on the left; the QLD on the right is the metal SHQ model; the others are Airfix

My third article on my latest batch of 1943 British covers the vehicles: three Bedford medium trucks, three carriers, two Quads with limbers, and a CMP 15cwt light truck. I’m not showing the Quads or the OP carrier in this post – but you can see them in my previous one, along with the artillery.

First the big trucks. These Bedfords were one of the mainstays of the British war effort, and the easiest medium trucks to acquire as models in this scale (20mm, 1/76 or 1/72). I had an Airfix kit of the QLD (general purpose) and QLT (troop transport) trucks, and a metal SHQ model. The Airfix models are proper, detailed kits with lots of parts, that require intricate assembly. The SHQ model is much cruder, though also requiring assembly, but with many fewer parts. Neither came with crew. For the Airfix models I used AB figures, though they weren’t an easy fit. For the SHQ model I took a very crude figure from a vintage Airfix Matador I had in stock. That was actually fine – it’s waste of good quality models to put them in an enclosed cab. The Airfix models are nice – they are modern ones, rather than reissued Vintage classics, which I’m going off a bit. The SHQ model, though, was simpler to put together (though vague assembly instructions didn’t help) and looks very similar at distance. Incidentally, the Airfix models came with clear plastic for the windscreens, etc., but I couldn’t lay my hands on them at the critical moment – and would have made it even harder to fit in the crew. None of my other models have clear plastic windows so I wasn’t going to stress about it – though they did turn up later.

After my initially negative impressions of SHQ, I find they are growing on me – they look much better than you would think when they arrive unassembled, and have a nice weight when handling. Their figures are growing on me too – though I prefer the beefier AB ones. Unfortunately SHQ have ceased business. They have been bought by Grubby Tanks/Britannia. As it happens, a few weeks ago I was helping the owner of Grubby Tanks to unload his stuff at the Cavalier wargames show in Tonbridge (put on by my new club); he says that he’s going to put the SHQ items back on the market later this year. I took the opportunity to buy some items of light artillery from his Britannia range – which look quite similar but are significantly cheaper. None are assembled/painted up yet, but include one of the 2pdrs I will need for Medinine (I also bought a German 20mm flak gun and a 75mm infantry gun).

Here’s another view:

The SHQ model is in the middle

And now for my models in desert colours, the CMP light truck and two carriers:

These are all from Plastic Soldier. The CMP truck was easy enough to put together, but it is hard to get excited about it. It’s a very basic model with no options. I left the tilt loose so that I could play it without should the urge take me. This vehicle has no clear role in my set up, but it is available to shift 2-pdrs or Vickers guns if needed. The carriers are a bit more interesting. The are from the PSC Carrier Variants set. The one on the left is the 3in mortar transport. The mortar couldn’t be fired from the vehicle (unlike the German equivalent with the SdKfz 250), but is stowed away at the back. The crew are the standard crew for the PSC “generic” carrier. The one on the right has a 2in mortar in firing position – this weapon could be fired from the vehicle. Since the light mortar was part of the standard equipment of a carrier platoon, this vehicle will stand in as transport for a carrier platoon in my setup.

Another view

The Carrier crew are those supplied by PSC. I’m not a fan of these – a lot of PSC figures seem to be sculpted in 15mm and scaled up, looking a bit clumsy. AB make carrier crews, which would be easier to fit into these models than the slightly smaller Airfix ones – but they are rather pricey and don’t have the 2in mortar in action. From a distance the PSC crew work OK. The generic crew are appropriate for NW Europe with scrim on the helmets; the driver comes with a beret, though the head is separate and easy to swap. I hadn’t woken up to the idea of sawing off heads from the desert uniform to use on the NW Europe bodies yet, though the desert heads would have to come from other PSC models – so I left the scrim helmets on, which isn’t realistic either for 1943 or this theatre. The supplementary figures on the Variants sprue are OK in this regard, though not especially nice mouldings. I added a few boxes and bits to make the carriers look a bit more used. The models worked well, with one exception – it’s hard to fit the Bren gun in the front slot when there is crew in the front seat. You have to skew it a rather awkward angle fairly early in the assembly process.

On the subject of the Carriers, I made up a third one from the Variants set, as an OP (visible in my previous post). This is extremely useful on the tabletop, and it is modelled with a heavy-duty radio set and lots of cable for the field telephone – and a ladder, presumably for accessing vantage points. I only have two niggles; one is that the officer with binoculars is rather crude; the second is that there is no range finder amongst the equipment stowed in the vehicle – even though this does seem be there in the picture in the assembly instructions. These instructions, incidentally, tell you which parts belong to which variants on the additional sprue (the set consists of seven generic sprues and one variants – it would have been more useful for the balance to be 6-2 or 5-3…), but you have to work out for yourself where they go based on a rather basic pictures of the assembled models; in my case even this instruction sheet was missing, and I had to find it and print it off from the website. There are complete instructions for the standard generic carrier though, which is just as well as this is much more complicated. There are alternative parts for Mark 1 and Mark 2 versions; I used the former, based on pictures of the vehicles in theatre.

Now for some notes on my painting of these vehicles and the artillery discussed in the last post, including the Quads and limbers for the 25-pdrs (good basic models from PSC, about which there is not much more to be said – no whinges here). There are two schemes: the Light Mud scheme used in Italy, from Sicily onwards, with Blue-Black as a contrast colour; and the desert scheme of Desert Pink, with Olive Green contrast, used by the Eighth Army in Tunisia (but not the First Army in Tunisia, which had darker UK colour schemes, overpainted ad hoc in many cases). The first of these is well explored territory here. I mixed Light Mud from Raw Sienna and Titanium White, with some Prussian Blue. These are the same pigments I use for Khaki, but with a bit more white and a bit less blue. The Blue Black can be made from the same pigments, with only a touch of white and a lot more blue. In fact I think I just dived into another mix I was using that was lurking on my palette, adjusted slightly. Incidentally, I use a wet palette, as I have for many years. Not the expensive one marketed by one of the usual suspects in the hobby world, but a Daler Rowney one that has been going for many years. Mixing paints from artists’ acrylics, this is a bit of a no-brainer, as you want to keep your pigments going across a multi-day project. In fact in the winter (my studio is only heated when I’m using it), the paint kept going for weeks. Which was just as well given all the interruptions. For the tilts on the trucks I used the Khaki mix I had been using for the infantry for both schemes.

The desert scheme was new for me – this being the last of the three main scenes used by the British in the desert (Coulter and Light Stone being the earlier ones). For the Desert Pink I simply mixed white into Raw Sienna. This is a touch less red than the usual portrayals of this colour, though I suspect (for no particularly good reason) that the pinkness softened with weathering. The Olive Green was a mix based on Sap Green, into which I threw various mixes used for the uniforms to dull down and lighten up a bit. The result may be a little dark. Greens are the hardest colours to mix. The schemes themselves were based on a variety of sources, including the official guidelines (which generally didn’t cover the vehicles I was painting and which were usually simplified in practice), photos (giving only one angle) and otherwise guesswork.

Apart from the basic scheme I painted the tyres and radiators (a variation on the dark grey-black mix) and tracks (ditto with some added silver). And that was pretty much it (apart from the crews, painted as infantry). I took the view that other detail (the lights for example) weren’t important enough to pick out. After this came the decals. I put roundels on the truck and Quad roofs, filched from old aircraft decals, and a couple from some an Italeri halftrack kit that I had recently acquired. I also put some arm of service markings on where I could use appropriate ones. I used the ones in the Airfix kit for two of the Bedford lorries. The others were from some I had printed myself a few years ago – but these were tricky and I lost a number of them in the process. Some models, like one of the carriers in the picture, had to do without. I did not bother with divisional markings (these often weren’t used in 1943 in this theatre).

After this came the weathering and high/low-lighting. I wanted to simplify this from the multiple stages of earlier versions. First I used small amounts of white oil paint brushed into a very thin and slightly uneven layer. Then, as an experiment, I mixed some ink into some new acrylic matt varnish that I recently acquired to make a wash. Previously I have used dark oil paint mixed with a slightly glossy medium, to get into the crevices as a glaze (which, in my parlance, is thicker and stickier than a wash) – followed by spray-on matt varnish. But the matt varnish is a very harsh matt, and the effect is too uniform to my taste. So I was trying to combine the two steps with the new, very liquid varnish, which dries off-matt. The basic concept was sound enough, but unfortunately I used some very powerful black ink. This enhanced the crevices beautifully, but made the models too dark. I had to light brush over the lighter colours on the original paint work again (which the wet palette has preserved); even then they still look a little on the dark side, especially the desert scheme. Finally I applied some powdered pastel in a sort of light dusty mix, with a brush. This served to matt-ify the off-matt varnish, without the harsh uniformity of the spray, and create a dusty texture. Apart from the matt varnish wash being a bit too dark, I’m pleased with the results. I have nice weathered finish, and the decals look well and truly integrated – and the method is quite simple.

My next project is the Medinine Germans – which I have now started. But before then I will do a quick post on some Oxford Diecast models I have acquired.

British artillery for 1943

This time I continue with my description most recent batch of figures and models for my 1943 project, as I build up enough forces to run a scenario for Medinine, by talking about the artillery. These comprised two 25-pdrs, three 6-pdrs and a 17-pdr Pheasant. The above picture is of four of the six weapons, together with two Morris Quads and limbers and the carrier OP. These are items I painted in the Light Mud and Blue-Black scheme introduced after Tunisia, ready to be used in Italy. Missing are the two 2-pdrs that I will need, because I didn’t have the models when I started the batch, and found that I needed a second crew assemblage anyway.

Let’s start with the 25-pdrs. These were the workhorses of British artillery in WW2. In the desert, and on at least one occasion in the Tunisian hills, they served as direct fire support, taking on a role as antitank gun. I’m not sure how much of my artillery I will actually use on the tabletop – because even at Rapid Fire scale they would mostly be off the table – though I think Rapid Fire players like to stretch things and put them on. Still I’ve been buying the models: I have two more 25-pdrs and two 5.5in guns in stock, and a number of German guns too. In the Medenine scenario the antitank guns looks a little thin (though more than adequate historically), so I thought it appropriate to have at least a pair of 25-pdrs ready to act as a last line of defence.

My 25-pdrs. The one in the foreground has an AB crew; the other has a PSC crew with a head-swap.

I had a box of two 25-pdrs with a Morris Quad in hand (together with another with the CMP Quad, as PSC had run out of the Morris sets). I used this. The first decision was whether to use the parts for the later version, with muzzle-brake. I didn’t have definitive information for when this was introduced. A lot of pictures show the earlier version in North Africa – but there are pictures of the later version in Italy in 1943 (or so the picture captions say) – so I decided to go for this, painted up in the Light Mud and Blue Black scheme. Next was the question of crews. I bought one set of eight figures from AB; I only wanted four on the base, so I hoped to get both crews. But they only had one seated figure, and I thought this was critical – otherwise it would be just a group of people staring at the gun. I decided to use the PSC figures for the second gun. These aren’t nearly as good, but good enough, I think. They supply two versions: Western Desert with men in shorts, and North West Europe with late helmets and scrim. I wanted neither, so I decided to head-swap the African heads onto the later bodies. This wasn’t actually that hard. The AB crew have the later helmets too, but I decided to overlook that (as I have on half of my infantry) – and it wasn’t as blatant as on the PSC figures.

Next come the 6-pdrs:

The two 6-pdrs in Light Mud. The one in the foreground is Valiant; the other is an old Airfix one. Both crews are Valiant.

I needed three more of these to go with my one existing model, one of my old Airfix ones. I had another old Airfix one that just needed a paint job. The cheapest way to source a couple more (with crews) looked to be to get the Valiant models, for which I found a decent review. Alas I think they look wrong, when compared to the photographs in theatre. The Airfix ones look better, though I have no reason to think they are particularly accurate – that wasn’t an Airfix strong point at the time. But it looks low and mean, just like the pictures. A second issue is that I wanted the earlier version of the weapon, with a shorter barrel and no muzzle brake. I followed the advice on the Valiant box, but it just didn’t look right either! I am so dissatisfied that I have bought the PSC box of two 6-pdrs with Loyd carriers, hoping these will look better. The Valiant crew figures were OK, though, and in the right uniform for 1943 – though they are too big. Four were provided, though I only used three. For the third crew I used bought AB desert castings with a crew in shorts, just for variety.

Finally there was the 17-pdr Pheasant. Here it is with the third 6-pdr:

Old 17-pdr Pheasant conversion with SHQ crew, with the second Valiant 6-pdr in the background, with AB crew

As I said in my previous post, the Pheasant was something of an afterthought. I don’t think that this weapon was used in Medinine, but the 7th Armoured did have them at the time, and they would have been an option for the British. Actually they probably weren’t that suitable. Their big virtue was their range – but if they had opened up at long range (and the 17-pdr went off with a very spectacular flash and bang) they would then have been picked off by the German artillery and mortars. Plus they were bigger weapons, harder to conceal in the desert. This model is one I made back in the 1970s from and Airfix 25-pdr and a Panther gun barrel. Very basic, but I adjudged it good enough. I had plenty of SHQ crew, which I brought into play. These are slightly smaller than AB figures, and so more appropriate for this slightly smaller-scaled model. Here’s a different angle, including the three vehicles I painted in desert camouflage:

I will describe how I painted the models in my next post covering the vehicles. The process for figures I have already described – they were painted alongside the infantry.

British troops for my 1943 project

It’s been a long absence since my last post. I don’t tend to post until a project is complete, and my most recent project has been a big one. As usual lots of life has intervened to slow things down. But I also have a lot of half-finished projects lying around, especially on the rules-writing side, which is not conducive to regular posting. Still, I now have something definite to report.

Following my last post for Rapid Fire! for hexes in December, my focus has stayed on WW2. We played two games, loosely based on episodes at Salerno. They weren’t particularly interesting. Much depended on encounters between tanks and antitank guns, turning on a small number of D6 throws. Infantry proved pretty useless. The first game at least had a close finish, but the second was an overwhelming British victory as the Germans failed to make any impression on the British Shermans, while the British scored hits pretty much every time. Scenario design was partly at fault, I’m sure – but the whole thing reinforced my dislike of the bathtubbing aspect of the rules. Too much hinged on too few dice throws. But I like scaling of RF, allowing bigger battles using 20mm figures. So I have embarked on writing my own rules – which will be part of a rules family stretching from Great Northern War to Napoloenics to the 1859-71 wars and on to WW2. It is surprising how much the game structure and mechanisms can overlap. That’s the idea anyway.

But I needed a scenario to focus on. Salerno is tricky at this level, especially if you leave the Americans out (they had more tanks, which makes it easier to design good games), and I think I need more experience with the system to work out how to design decent scenarios. Similar things can be said for Sicily. But Tunisia is another matter – there are more tanks!. As it happens the Rapid Fire crew have two Tunisia scenarios (or scenario groups): Medenine and Tebaga Gap. These are among the last desert battles, as the 8th Army fought their way into Tunisia – and so fit into the desert battle series that has been designed for Rapid Fire. I picked Medenine – the last major German tank attack in Africa- though allied tanks were only marginally involved. The scenario is based on the central of the three principal thrusts, with the 15th Panzer Division’s attack on 131 (Queen’s) Infantry Brigade of the 7th Armoured. I decided to set out on two large batches of model-making and painting, first for the British and secondly for the Germans. I started with the British.

For the British I needed two four-company battalions (actually this was more than I needed for this scenario – but I’d need more troops for Tebaga Gap), each with a 3in mortar (with carrier), a 6-pdr and a 2-pdr AT gun, and a carrier platoon. In addition I needed Royal Artillery support with a further two 6-pdrs and a battery of two 25-pdrs – and brigade command, for which I wanted a Dorchester ACV. Mostly field artillery at this scale is off the table, but I wanted the 25-pdrs on the table as a last line of defence should the panzers (eight panzer IIIs and Panzer IVs) push their way through the four 6-pdrs and two 2-pdrs – although historically they didn’t. I already had all I needed for one battalion except the 2-pdr. For the second battalion I bought in AB Tropical infantry (four packs of 10 plus support weapons). These are a recent release, and work pretty well 1943 British infantry in this theatre (unlike my earlier British infantry, which are more appropriate to Normandy 1944). In addition I had PSC 25-pdrs with Morris Quads in stock. I bought in two extra 6-pdrs from Valiant, to use with an old Airfix one I had in stock, and an AB desert crew. On top of this I decided to bring into service an old Pheasant 17-pdr I had made up in the late 1970s from an Airfix 25-pdr and a Panther gun barrel; I compared it to the parts in the PSC 25-pdr kit (which can be made up into a Pheasant), and it didn’t look too far off. I had some crew available bought a number of years ago from SHQ. I needed more carriers – I still have three of my old Airfix ones (three are already in service with AB crews and look jolly nice too) – but I decided these didn’t come up to snuff. I needed crews. The AB ones look fantastic, lifting my rather ropey old Airfix models to the heights, but they took a lot of work to fit, as well as being pricey. Also I needed one as a 3in mortar transport and, more complicated, as the all-important OP for the 25-pdrs. I decided to go for the PSC variants set, which has seven models which include an OP and 3in mortar transport – as well as one with a 2in mortar in firing position, which I can use for a carrier platoon. Finally there was the question of transport. Strictly this wasn’t needed. The British positions were essentially prepared and static – the lorries would have been well to the rear. The antitank guns were carried on portees, but they were lifted off these into dug-in positions – keeping these weapons concealed was tactically critical. Still, I had three Bedford QL lorries in stock, and I thought it was time to bring these into the picture, together with one of my PSC 15cwt CMP light trucks.

So for this project I assembled some 50+ infantry and artillery crew figures, three 6-pdrs, three carriers, three Bedford lorries, two 25-pdrs plus quads, a CMP light truck, and 17-pdr Pheasant. For this post I will stick to the infantry. Here’s a different perspective on my group photo:

And another, closer up…In the background you can also see a battery command element for the 25-pdrs, which got swept into this photo:

And this one catches the Vickers gun on the end. Loyal readers may notice I have been trying to improve my photography. This now includes a backdrop photo bought from a model railway shop (online). This depicts a a very English looking winter or early spring scene – and I need to pay attention to the join! But it does make the picture look a lot better.

As I already said, these are from the recently introduced AB 20mm British “tropical infantry” range, designed to cover the Med and Far East theatres, when troops weren’t wearing shorts (North Africa) or Burma hats. This works pretty well for my 1943 project – they are wearing the earlier version of the helmet, without scrim, and they are using Tommy guns rather than Stens. In Tunisia it was pretty cold, so even the Eighth Army had abandoned their shorts (though they don’t seem to have bothered with the gaiters, and their helmets were still painted sand) – but their sleeves weren’t rolled up. In Sicily it was pretty hot, and many troops adopted shorts, though not as consistently as in the Western Desert. For Salerno, these figures are just right; later in Italy it tuned cold and wet. I’m making no attempt to get the figures, vehicles and guns to look exactly right for each scenario – and if there is one episode that I’m focusing on, it is indeed Salerno, in spite of my struggles with scenarios. So this range was perfect. I had three packs of advancing infantry, one prone infantry, and a Support 2 pack, with a 3in mortar and Vickers gun. The Support 1 pack has a flamethrower, 2in mortar, AT rifle and a PIAT – and I will doubtless get these later – but I have plenty of 2in mortars and PIATs in the later uniform. (PIATs were not in use in Tunisia – so I could probably have use the AT rifle).

The bases are mainly metal washers, but the prone figures and support weapons required bases cut out from mount board. I decided to have only two crew for the mortar and Vickers (three were provided in the pack) to keep the bees size down. These were plastered with the usual mix of acrylic medium, sand and paint (a mix of white and raw umber) to integrate the figure bases. Once mounted the figures were given an undercoat of artists’ gesso (which is white) mixed with some raw umber. The raw umber and white mix gives a nice neutral grey-brown colour, which is now my go-to base colour for figure paining across all eras. It means that any gaps in painting don’t show up. Then came the usual paint job in various mixes of Liquitex artists’ acrylics. For the uniforms this comprised Raw Sienna (orange-brown), Titanium White and Prussian Blue (not much of the last of these, but it’s needed to get khaki), plus a little green for the helmets. The flesh was based on white and Burnt Sienna (red-brown), but once I get the palette going I keep throwing in bits of this and that. This came out a bit on the dark side, but I did want to get tanned flesh, but with a slight pinkish hue. I’m not entirely convinced, but it probably roughly simulates how my own fair flesh would look in those conditions. I’m painting less detail on the figures these days, so the water bottles and bayonet sheathes did not get more than cursory attention, for example. One innovation for this batch was the use of a light/magnifier. My short-range eyesight is pretty decent, but this in fact proved a big help.

Once the basic paint was laid down I was left with the vexed question of how to finish. With my previous WW2 figures I have used ink washes or oil medium glazes, followed by matt varnish spray. This leaves a very harsh matt finish which I don’t really like – though it’s quite fashionable these days. I have recently tried to moderate this by applying a little not-so-matt varnish with a brush – on flesh, weapons and helmets, but I have been rather underwhelmed by the result. As an experiment this time I mixed some black and brown ink into some Liquitex matt varnish (which is very fluid and dries off-matt). Alas I overdid the black ink and the effect was too dark. I had to go back to the figures highlighting the paler bits, including the flesh. This took me to the margins of the level of shine I can tolerate on WW2 figures (I have a much higher tolerance for earlier eras), but brought out the wonderful AB castings very nicely. I need to go a bit easier on the black ink (the stuff I have is extremely powerful), but otherwise I think I’ve found a good technique.

For my rules system I will need to mount these men in pairs on temporary bases – as I have already done with my other infantry using lower-adhesion Copydex. I still want to be able to use as singles if I want to try platoon level games. Next time: the artillery.

Rapid Fire! Reloaded for hexes

The later stages the club game

Wargamers are like butterflies, flitting from project to project. Alas I conform to the stereotype. Earlier this year I diverted to my Great Northern War armies. I then moved on to a twin-track: my 1866 project (Austrians and Italians in 10mm) and my 18mm Napoleonics, using Lasalle 2 rules. I put my 20mm World War 2 project on ice, after some rather irksome kit building, and having lost my way on rules. Now I’ve turned back to these with a vengeance.

I have at last been getting regular games at a local (-ish) club: the Tunbridge Wells Wargames Society. At first I played Lasalle, but after a few games I wanted a bit of a change. Then my wargaming partner, Rod, said that he was building up some armies for WW2 using the Rapid Fire! Reloaded system. I had long had it in mind to run my WW2 games using a hex-based system, and even bought a games mat marked in hexes. What if I tried adapting Reloaded to hexes? And so my other projects were put to one side.

Reloaded is the latest in the Rapid Fire! system, which I have used before (I have the 2005 edition), and commented on a few times. They date from the 1990s and were revolutionary in their time, breaking out of the complexity that had dogged WW2 systems before then. They feel very old-school today though – an old-fashioned I-go U-go turn system, and a bang-you’re-dead combat system, without such ideas as suppression. They are designed for 20mm (but workable with 15mm – 28mm) models, and though there is no formal distance scale, they are broadly consistent with 40m to the inch. One model tank represents about 5 real ones, and one two-figure infantry element a normal-sized platoon. The rules are heavily “bath-tubbed” – it is played as though the scale is 1:1, which is something that I struggle with, but makes the rules seem less abstract. This approach is one way of getting a lot of large-scale kit on the table – and arguably more honest that systems like Bolt Action which pretend they are platoon-level.

But for a simplified, fast-play game RF became quite complicated. The basic rules cover 45 pages of A4, admittedly with lots of pictures. The authors (Colin Rumford and Richard Marsh) obviously decided that there was a market for a stripped-down version, and Reloaded is the result. The basic rules (without the sample forces and scenario) cover just 8 pages – though without pictures. They’ve done a pretty decent job. There is no complicated fire table, or observation table, for example. I raised my eyebrows a few times (on the treatment of auto cannon, for example), but then realised that the issue didn’t matter that much. They are bit more abstract – but that is actually a good thing at this scale – as attempts at detail look like bath tubbing. I started to become a bit more surprised at some of the detail left in – for example the extra range given to very high velocity anti-tank guns (e.g. 88s and 17pdrs).

How about converting to hexes? When ordering the mat (from Tiny Wargames – who have a very flexible service), I decided to go for hexes with 3in sides – so 6in from corner to corner, or 5in between the sides. This is pretty big as these things go. They needed to be big for 20mm models, though, especially if they are sharing the space with terrain, such as buildings. My original idea was that more than one tank would be able to occupy a hex. Smaller hexes would certainly have been possible. Larger hexes make the game more abstract – but that speeds things up.

The first thing to tackle was how the game elements occupy the hexes. I decided to have each element facing a hex-side, rather than a corner. This generally how board games for the era work, and it means that elements move forward in a nice straight line. It doesn’t work so well for earlier eras, as you can’t line units up side by side in straight lines. More than one element can occupy a hex, but I soon decided to limit the “stacking” to one large vehicle (models more than 60mm long – most mid-war tanks, Sdfz 251s and medium trucks) or one artillery piece, at least the size of medium anti-tank guns (Pak 38s or 6pdrs). I decided to limit infantry to four bases, with each element assigned to one hex-side, and no more than one per side. A small vehicle (Bren carriers, Sdkfz 250s, jeeps, etc) is the same. I might want to simplify this to suggest a maximum of one element to each hex-side, with large vehicles taking up two opposite sides, and hence preventing other large vehicles from occupation. This complexity results from using larger hexes, of course. With smaller hexes you might have just one or two elements, with vehicles unable to occupy buildings hexes.

For distances, the basic premise is that six inches converts to one hex, or five inches for the longer distances. That only gave me a small number of issues: infantry crawling (3in) which wasn’t too hard to represent (place the figure across the hex-side in the first move). Heavy tanks (9in cross-country) were a bit more of a problem, as I didn’t want to create a rather untidy half-move rule just for them, so I have let them have the normal two hexes cross country for tanks, but reduced road movement by a hex. I dithered about giving them a single-hex move cross-country, but decided that this would slow things down too much. For my 1943 setting there are only two vehicles in scope (given that Valentine tanks were largely out of it by then): Tigers and Churchills, both mainly applicable to Tunisia. I only have Tigers table-ready at the moment, and these should definitely be given the benefit of the doubt. Many rules give them normal tank speed (though they did struggle a bit with the terrain, especially in Sicily). I also needed to decide on firing arc – where I was generous, allowing fixed guns to fire through adjacent hex-sides. This is in keeping with the RF rules, which are generous too. Where the original rules divide direct HE fire in six 8in range bands to decide chances of hitting, I decided to use a D10- instead, with a maximum range of ten hexes (so that you need to throw a 10 to hit at ten hexes, etc.).

By far the biggest conversion issue was close combat, as the use of large hexes makes this much more abstract. I decided to resolve this with an exchange of fire, followed by a dice-off (following the Reloaded rules for this final stage), with the winner being left in possession of the hex and the loser being forced to retreat. This hasn’t been play-tested yet. There is a big difference in the treatment of built-up areas. RF treats each model as if an individual building. In my hex system, a building hex (which may have just one building model so as to leave enough room for a large vehicle too) is treated as an area composed of several actual buildings, without an attempt to resolve occupation in detail. It will be interesting to see how this works out in actual play.

I had a little time to think about terrain. I don’t have much that is directly usable. I experimented with scratch-building an appropriate building using cork floor tiles, of which I have a plentiful supply. You can see the result in the picture. The roof is cardboard overlaid with Noch N-gauge pantile sheet, which I happened to have in stock; I even had some plastic pantile ridge tiles – though I don’t remember where I got these from. There were some learnings, but the result is a nice robust model, which is hollow, so that I can remove the roof and place an infantry element inside. Cork tile also lends itself well to creating ruined buildings. My idea now to build several models using the same technique, in various sizes – but not ruins just yet. I also tried my hand at making some cypress trees – which I didn’t quite finish. There’s a lot more work to do before I start getting the table looking a bit more authentic. Fitting terrain into the hex grid is a further challenge.

Another view of the newly build building model – also cypresses with unfinished bases.

For the rules’ first major outing, last Sunday, I devised a simple scenario, based very loosely on the Salerno beachhead, between two battalion-sized battlegroups. The Germans, attacking, had three Panzer IVs, and Panzer III flamethrower (these were used to devastating effect in the early days of the battle, before they were knocked out by the Allies). The British were supported by a single Sherman, and a 6pdr, and hadn’t had time to dig in. Both sides had a battery of field artillery. In RF terms the Germans had 200 points and the British just over 100 – about half the size of a normal attack-defence game. The game took us about three hours, even allowing for a fairly slow pace for unfamiliar rules. Casualties were heavy. Infantry vanished like snows in summer as soon as they became the focus of attention. The 6-pdr knocked out two Panzer IVs as they approached, while return fire proved ineffective. It was only destroyed by artillery late in the game. The Flammpanzer did for the Sherman in a move-and-fire manoeuvre as it came over a hill. In the end it was a race to see which side’s infantry failed their morale test for 50% casualties. This proved to be the British, though the Germans had passed two tests by this stage.

The rules produced a fast-paced game but are deeply flawed if you are looking for realistic representation of warfare. Most of the flaws are with the original RF system, and not the Reloaded one though. Some things, like move-and-fire are so much part of the core system that I won’t change them until I produce my own rules in the same space. But there are some minor tweaks to deal with things I consider to be anomalies:

  • One change I made on the day was to treat static infantry as being in soft cover, for both observation and firing purposes – as crawling infantry already are. It is normal field craft for infantry to go to ground and use any limited cover.
  • Vehicle machine guns are very effective (three fire dice) when static. This includes both mounted light machine guns used in Bren carriers and the Sdkfz 250/251, and hull machine guns in tanks. When dismounted a carrier platoon or only gets two fire dice. Hull machine guns were defensive weapons where the gunner had limited visibility. Turret machine guns were more effective but had limitations too. I think LMGs mounted on APCs get one die whether moving or static. Hull machine guns likewise get a single dice – and I would limit their range to the adjacent hex. A static turret machine gun gets two dice. Medium machine guns, mounted on sustained fire mounts and fully crewed, still get 4 dice.
  • Not in the Reloaded rules, I would give HMGs and autocannon a limited AP capability – 6 and 5 respectively – limited to small arms range. This is in the main rules, except that heavy autocannon (37mm or 40mm) have more range.
  • Light mortar: I think it is simpler and more realistic to treat these as a direct fire weapon, with a range of 6 hexes, using a D6 to determine hits.
  • I also want to ease the process of indirect fire support, so that any company can call in direct fire support (mortars or infantry guns) and artillery OPs can call in direct resources too. But limit this by making all calls by a separate observer subject to the comms test. That comms test needs to be made a bit more sophisticated, but that’s a job for another day. Each weapon can only be called once, and each observer can only direct one weapon per turn. This is really a down-payment on a more sophisticated system, which I’m basing on Battlefront rules.
  • I also need to cover HE fire on buildings hexes where the occupying troops haven’t been observed. The hex needs to be easy to hit, but which hex-side gets the effect needs to be randomised.

We’ll come back to these rules for another game in January. Alas I won’t have much time to add to my limited available troops on the tabletop, or terrain. But I can focus longer-term painting efforts on building a 400 point army for each side. Meanwhile I am working on ideas for my own rules in this space.