The Heugh Heinkel

Modern photo looking east from the crash site - Bass Rock and the houses at
Rhodes Holdings in the right distance - Tesco is behind you and to your left!

At present, my wife and I are watching the 1970s Thames TV series The World at War on DVD - most evenings we fire up the log stove and convene at 8:30 or so to watch the next episode. I last watched it a few years ago, but she has previously only seen odd instalments on the History Channel and similar. It is a remarkable achievement of TV; it's also almost perfectly timed - it's modern enough to give a pretty impartial view of the history of WW2, without the tub-thumping patriotism which often distorts such things, yet it was soon enough after the event to feature interviews with an astounding array of prominent individuals.

It is also, of course, very heavy going at times - both from an emotional point of view and through trying to grasp the sheer immensity of the tragedy. Last night was the Italian campaign, but we've also recently survived the Siege of Leningrad, so it's all excellently informative (as popular history, of course) but there are very few laughs along the way.

This is the Heugh crash - the view in the background is almost identical to the
photo at the top of this post

In one of the earlier instalments, there was some newsreel footage of what was described as the first German plane shot down on British soil, and for us this is local stuff, so we sat up straight and paid special attention. Now I'm not absolutely sure, but I think the film perpetuates a mistake which is commonly made on this subject. The first such "kill" was a bomber shot down near Humbie, south of Edinburgh, on the slopes of Soutra Hill, in (I think) October 1939. Later, about 3 miles from where I'm sitting, in February 1940, a Heinkel 111 crash-landed at The Heugh farm, outside North Berwick, on the southern shore of the Firth of Forth. I'm not sure why or how, but at some point the pictures for these two events became transposed, so that it is very common to read of the Humbie incident, with attached pictures of the North Berwick one, in which the downed plane ended in a very marked nose-down situation, right on the skyline.

I must emphasise that I'm not certain without re-running the movie, but I think the mention of the first plane shot down (which was the Humbie one) in the World at War episode was accompanied by footage of the North Berwick one (that's "our" local German plane), which is a common error. Not to worry - my general ignorance of this entire subject is extensive, as may well be displayed by what follows.

And here we are looking west from the crash site, across the farm fields towards
North Berwick Law - our very own local extinct volcano...

From late 1939 onwards, German bombers were making sporadic attacks on this part of Eastern Scotland - these were mostly solitary planes having a go at Rosyth Dockyard or shipping in the Forth, but there were also bombing raids made on some surprisingly small villages - East Linton, for example - simply because they had bridges on the main London railway line. As I understand it, these planes came from Stavanger, in Norway, and since there were active fighter bases at Drem and East Fortune (and further south at Drone Hill, though that may have mostly been a radar station later in the war), any isolated raider could expect a hot reception.

There are many tales of WW2 bombs in odd locations from the "phoney war" period - the Luftwaffe managed to hit the boiler house of the walled garden here on our own farm, for example - right in the middle of nowhere. Many such bombs fell in open countryside, presumably ditched by planes aborting missions or being pursued; my first wife's father had been an air-raid warden in the village of Greenlaw during the war, and one night a single bomb fell on a house where there were soldiers billeted - the old boy was convinced for the rest of his days that this must have been deliberately targeted. Basically, in the early war years, things up here were fairly quiet, though there was a lot of understandable concern about the possibility of an invasion on the beaches in these parts. An invasion from Norway would almost certainly have been beyond the capabilities of the German forces at the time, but you can still occasionally see the remains of the anti-glider posts on our beach at low tide, and there are surviving observation posts and pill boxes on a neighbouring farm. I guess they didn't really know what to expect, though it is also evident that the farm where I live scored a personal triumph by managing to get an excellent system of concrete roads built by HM Govt to support the observation posts - they are still in good shape today - the horses slip on them in the wet, but they are still serviceable - one runs outside my front gate.

The defences caused a lot more trouble than the enemy at this time. The town council of North Berwick complained because British mines were getting washed up on the beach - I'm not sure what they wanted to be done about them, apart from prompt disposal. There is a splendid reply on file from the military authorities, who pointed out that their primary concern was prevention of invasion or enemy action in coastal waters, and offered the reassurance that mines which came adrift from their anchors were usually automatically disarmed as a consequence. Well, there was a war on.

Back to the story of our Heinkel. On 9th February 1940 a Heinkel 111 H-1 of 5/KG 26 (from Stavanger?) was attempting a sneak attack on Rosyth when it was intercepted over Fife by the Spitfire of Flt.Lt Douglas Farquhar of 602 (City of Glasgow) Squadron, based at Drem. With the port engine badly damaged and his gunner seriously wounded, the pilot of the Heinkel lowered his undercarriage as a sign of surrender and crash landed on rising ground on a farm south-east of North Berwick - the farm of The Heugh [pronunciation guide will follow].

Local legend has it that the farmer, Mr Wright, apprehended the crew! After the authorities had things safely under control, there was a stream of sightseers. Sadly, the gunner died of his wounds in the hospital at Drem.

Wings removed, the Henkel is towed along Dirleton Avenue in North Berwick, on
its way to Turnhouse

King George VI visited Drem airfield 3 weeks later, for a ceremony in which Farquhar
 was awarded the DFC - I think the figure on the far left is Dowding

Since it was in very good condition, the plane was recovered - the outer wings were removed and it was towed by road through North Berwick to Edinburgh, where it was put back into an airworthy state in the workshops at Turnhouse, and it was added to a flight of captured aircraft which the RAF maintained to study German technology. I believe this is a photo of the restored aircraft repainted in British colours.

Subsequently it was destroyed in an accident, so the machine never had a lot of good fortune associated with it. 

Here are a couple of clips - firstly of the plane being towed through Musselburgh, on its way to Turnhouse, and then one of a little of the history of Drem airfield, though I suspect the combat footage is mostly library stuff.

The crash took place on a hillside, between the village cemetery and the new houses at Rhodes Holdings, just uphill (south) of the present-day Tesco supermarket. From what I can make out from current workings, it looks as though there is a new housing estate marked out for development in the near future, so the site will probably disappear - not that there's anything to see now!

Most of the pictures and links here are from the most excellent Coastrider blog, which is well worth a visit by cycling enthusiasts. If you share any of this stuff, please do mention where it came from.

[Pronunciation - for non-Scots, the word Heugh is not so easy - phonetically, it sounds like HYOOCH, just a single syllable, where the OO is quite short and the CH is like the ending of the Scottish word loch - the softest, aspirate, dry sound like the end of the German mich, but if you're getting even close to sch then it's not dry enough! - come on - further back on the roof of your mouth - here, have another beer...] 

Going... going... gone; Peter Gouldesbrough and the 5mm Blocks

Recently, someone made a jocular reference to the old Minifigs 5mm troop blocks, which, for me, come under the general heading of Did This Really Happen?

I'll come back to the 5mm blocks in a minute or two, but for me the strongest recollection is that they remind me of Peter Gouldesbrough, one of the better known of the earlier Scottish wargamers - who for a while was a great enthusiast for these blocks - and of a brief period when I spent some time with him, so let's start with Peter.

The General from the Braid Hills

Peter was retired when I met him. We were introduced by a mutual wargaming friend, who had mentioned to Peter that I had been working on some pioneering solo wargame projects involving microcomputer programs. Peter had just been given one of those newfangled Sinclair Spectrum thingummies as a present, so that must mean 1982 at the earliest. Since my first wargaming sabbatical started in 1985 (major dose of Real Life for some years thereafter), this dates things pretty accurately.

Peter was friendly with a number of the leading post-war lights of the hobby - Peter Young and Charles Grant for a start - and he is quoted in a couple of Featherstone's earlier books. He was a complete gentleman, always - I never saw him without a suit and tie, as far as I can remember.

When I met him he had recently disposed of his 20mm figure collection, and had converted to the Minifigs 5mm block system. He had redrafted his own wargames rules to suit this new scale, and this is where he wanted my help with some programming, so he could use his new Spectrum to do the record-keeping and the calculations. I was invited to participate in some of his new Napoleonic "microgames" at his house - his home and his games were every bit as dignified as I had expected. 

We made some good progress with the automation of his rules, though I learned the hard way that he could be a dreadful bully, albeit a gentlemanly one! I found a number of arithmetical errors in his rules, but when I drew them to his attention I had a hard job getting him to admit they were wrong, never mind getting agreement to correct them!

5mm blocks - picture borrowed from the Wargame Hermit's excellent blog. One reason
why these were short-lived, I think, was the poor quality of the casting - the moulds
were breaking up very soon after they were launched. Also, it is only now that I realise
that these blocks were introduced circa 1972, and withdrawn in 1976, so they were
already long-OOP when I was introduced to Peter's game!

The games themselves were visually interesting, though for my taste Peter had re-engineered his wargames in the "wrong" direction; a move to 5mm gave the opportunity to stage colossal battles in a compact space - this is what I would have done - but he had gone the other way. For example, he had French battalions consisting of 12 blocks of 3-deep infantry. His rules had very detailed instructions on the deployment of these half-company sections, so that changing from column to line, or sending out skirmishers (and the skirmishers were cast on tiny strips, which were exchanged for the close-order blocks as required) was a very precise, not to say painstaking, operation - as I recall, his game used 30-second bounds, to make sure we did it all properly. I also remember a couple of hilarious incidents when we lost some of the tiny troops on his battlefield. His wargames room was upstairs, on an attic level, and was rather dimly lit; add to this the fact that his table was a very dark green, like a table-tennis table, with Plasticine hills to match, and it was little surprise that the soldiers used to disappear from view. On a couple of occasions the French "lost" a regiment of light infantry on the hills, simply because we failed to spot them in the gloom. The skirmisher strips would gradually disappear, too - occasionally a couple would turn up behind the clock on the mantelpiece, one was found on the floor (fortunately before it was stood upon), one was spotted hanging from the sleeve of my sweater (wouldn't have happened with a suit), and on one occasion we found one embedded in a hill when we were clearing up.

Peter's thoughts on 5mm - despite what he says here, his interest in
manoeuvre resulted in his sticking with the 30-second moves!

When it was tested and reliably stable, I was roped into helping with a demonstration of the 5mm-block+Spectrum game at a wargames show one weekend in Edinburgh's Adam House, at the foot of Chambers Street, in the old University territory. This was a very long day - I was involved in the transport and setting-up, which wasn't helped by our being stuck in a quiet backwater of the basement, and thereafter I was the computer operator, gaming assistant and general gopher, helping out with numerous runs through a suitable set-piece battle. I recall that Peter had hand-painted a poster for his game, with the legend, "GOING... going... _GONE", with appropriate pictures of British Napoleonic infantry gradually shrinking into invisibility.

I regret it was not a terrific day. The weather was dreadful, the show was poorly supported (at least our bit of it was) and we had maybe a dozen casual visitors during the course of the entire day. Peter, understandably, was rather miffed after all his hard work, and became somewhat grumpy. At one point an acquaintance of mine came over and chatted with me for a couple of minutes. Peter was furious - I was not there to chat to my friends, etc. I fear that, though we didn't actually fall out, the day ended on a low note.

Ancient, appropriately grey photo of Adam House

I was unwell for a while with glandular fever, but a few months later my wife and I were invited to a party at Peter's home - a very pleasant evening, and everything was very friendly, but after that I lost touch with him. Eventually, as these things tend to go, it was so long since I had spoken with him that it became awkward to make the effort to phone him up. Thus, I am ashamed to say, I never met with him again. Mind you, it might well be that he was extremely relieved to be rid of me!  

Peter told me a number of very entertaining tales of his experiences in WW2 - since I am not a family friend I am reluctant to recount any of these at the moment.

I don't really know what became of Peter - this post is prompted really by my wondering whether anyone would care to contribute any tales of the Minifigs 5mm blocks, and in case anyone can provide any more information about Peter himself. I am very much indebted to Clive, the Old Metal Detector, for providing me with some clippings about him from Wargamers' Newsletter. Also, if anyone remembers the Edinburgh wargame shows at Adam House (must have been 1984 or 85, I reckon), please shout. I guess there was some more serious stuff going on upstairs!   

Bavarians - Paleontology

Very old figures, laid bare. After a rather longer spell in the stripper than I had expected, at last I have some real vintage castings cleaned back to the metal. Interesting. These three chaps are (from L to R): Hinton Hunt BVN4, Bavarian private charging, and then two versions of Der Kriegspieler model No. 175 - Bavarian infantry advancing. The DK models were originally sold in a bag, with a proportional mix of variations for elite (with helmet plume) and battalion (no plume) companies - examples of each being in the picture; HH did not produce an infantryman without a plume, so we are forced to assume that Marcus intended us to remove the plumes if we cared enough. All these figures will work for line or jaeger units, by the way.

That's all good. Let's not have a discussion about the obvious DNA connection between the two makes - it's very clear that one is the inspiration of the other. I am intrigued, though - the HH man has his feet firmly planted at the corners of his base - the DK boys have their feet in the middle of two opposing sides of the base. Considering the fact that the figures are almost indistinguishable, why go to the trouble of having a different base?

My sincere thanks, again, to Stryker and Wellington Man for their generous donations of vintage figures, and to Clive and to Chuck Gibke for consultancy services. All much appreciated. I am still working on obtaining supplies of suitable castings, but at least I now know what I'm looking for. Sometime soon I hope to paint up a unit, though the extra French division which arrived recently probably takes precedence, if only to get it out of the way. No - let's not say that - it may well be that after some heavy sessions retouching the French I'll really fancy doing some Bavarians for a break!

Hooptedoodle #282 - Bump! - Gotcha!

Generic media picture of a minor accident, to grab reader attention

Well, the bad news is that the Contesse has had a minor accident in her car. The much better news is that no-one was hurt, the accident was not her fault (someone ran into the back of her car at a give-way at a T-junction - unless they reversed into you, it is pretty much a given that if you drive into the back of someone it is your fault), the damage is not very serious (a new rear bumper panel will sort it out, though it is a bit of a shame, considering the vehicle is less than a year old), the car is still driveable and everything should be sorted in a week or two. Things, in short, could be much, much worse; motor accidents can wreck lives in an instant, so we have to be very, very grateful, and it is a useful reminder not to take so many blessings for granted.

We have very few mishaps on the road, I am delighted to say, so we have little opportunity to develop any well-grooved procedures for dealing with this sort of situation. However, we have had the same insurer for 15 years or so now, we are quite happy with them (efficient, and very competitive charges) and we have a good idea of what you do if you have a bump.

The last time I had a vehicle off the road after an accident was two cars and six years ago when someone ran into my pick-up when it was parked (definitely not my fault, I was somewhere else at the time, Your Honour). The procedure was simple enough - I contacted my insurer (the same one as now), they booked the truck into a repair shop, who came and took it away, and lent me a courtesy car - a tiny, bright pink Ford Ka, with "Excelsior Coach Repairs" written on both doors in large black letters. It did the job, though the painted advertising does imply a subtitle: "KEEP AWAY FROM THIS ONE - HE HAS ACCIDENTS". The claim was settled, life carried on.

Generic picture of a courtesy car

This time more people were involved. A lot more. And there are a lot of added-value services laid on - if you expect someone else's insurer to pay for all this, it is tempting to just keep saying yes - why not? Everyone else does.

Interesting. The insurance company were efficient and businesslike, as ever, and provided the Contesse with contact numbers and details of the repair shop and the "car-rental company", who would be in touch. They also encouraged her to upgrade to a larger rental vehicle than the basic courtesy car on offer, which seemed surprising in an age when we are all trying to keep costs (and premiums) down. So she agreed to that, and, as promised, people began to ring up. Within a couple of hours everything was in motion.

The Contesse was not comfortable with the contact from the car-rental people, who asked her a whole pile of questions about the circumstances of the accident which seemed to be out of scope for their part in this deal. It turns out that they are not a car-rental firm at all, they are a credit hire company. They offer delivery to your home, and collection (which is attractive, since we live on the Dark Side of the Moon), they will obtain for you an over-spec vehicle, and the Terms and Conditions, legal small print and lists of fees and penalties run for screens and screens of the email attachments. With alarm bells clanging, she did some research online and found a lot of hostile client reviews - what used to be a minimal extra service provided as part of an insurance claim appears to have become a major scam industry. Apart from the wasted cost contributed by the insurers, the credit-hire firm and the rental vehicle providers all lining each others' pockets (yes, there are commission payments travelling upstream as well, so it was in the insurance company's interest to recommend a vehicle upgrade), details of the parties involved are also sold to the market, so that clients are subsequently beset by phonecalls from so-called lawyers, encouraging them to make further claims for whiplash, post traumatic shock, loss of earnings and that mysterious fungal growth in the lawn. It is, basically, a scam. A scam, moreover, which fits right into that much-loved British ideal of an industry which contributes very little, but generates income for an extra level of parasite. The courtesy car add-on associated with a car repair used to involve maybe two people to set it up, and cost very little. Now it involves about half a dozen people, who inflate costs and pay each other commission, and it just milks the system.

No wonder that:

(a) unemployment levels in this ridiculous, bankrupt nation are lower than you would expect, though our output in goods and genuine services continues to shrivel.

(b) insurance premiums are unnecessarily high, and lawyers are never short of a few bob.

(c) the insurance industry (in which I worked for many years) is so widely despised and mistrusted.

Anyway - the ending. After a fairly short period of consideration, the Contesse called the insurer, and also emailed them, and cancelled the courtesy car. They can stick it up their corporate bottom, though of course she did not tell them this. They were pretty sniffy about it, and not prepared to discuss their business relationship with the "car-rental firm". We have email confirmations, and names of the people she spoke to on the phone, at both the insurance company and the credit hire mob. If some poor chaps turn up with a big, posh rental car for us on Wednesday then we know nothing about it, and they may take it away. They can hardly charge for a service they haven't provided. We shall cope with the vehicles we already have - my wife can use my car for a few days, I'll use my van, and we'll write off any small inconvenience against the money we have saved everyone, and the illusion of a tiny victory against a dodgy system.

Watch out for insurance claim add-ons. I cannot believe this is a uniquely British problem, though we seem to have a remarkable talent for creating money-making scams of this type.

The Duty Marshal

Another new French staff unit, based to my new standard. The groups for Army/Corps level commanders are 60mm square, and have the general himself plus two staff; the base is bordered in the national colour - in this case blue.

This was going to be, very specifically, General (later Marshal) Suchet, but I had second thoughts. The next in the painting queue is the Duke of Damnation, Soult, and he has a very distinctive ADC, who can be spotted from the far side of the valley - "that's Soult," they will say. Now Suchet also had a recognisable ADC, with baggy trousers - plum coloured, as I recall - and this ADC's greatest claim to fame, of course, is that he appears in one of the Osprey books...

Sanity check - I could set up a whole series of celebrity generals to make guest appearances as appropriate - some of them wouldn't get out to play very often. Thus I have made this fellow rather more generic - the ADC in the blue and red (the guy with the horse, for the colour-blind) is wearing the regulation uniform for the ADC of a Marshal-who-is-not-a-Prince, and the man who is saluting is a visiting ADC for a General de Division, so it's all pretty much vanilla. I shall probably use this group as Suchet if the occasion suits, but otherwise other choices are available. Good.

This could get out of hand - I could have gone for the plum-trousered aide - I have figures which would work in this role. Then I would have to consider named groups for Victor, Jourdan, You-Name-It...

Mind you, Massena would be worth a shout - his group would probably require him to be in a carriage, accompanied by his teenage son, Prosper, dressed up in (white) pantomime ADC's uniform, and Old André's mistress, Henriette Leberton, who is reputed to have accompanied him on campaign dressed as a hussar...    [is it getting a little warm in here?]

Well, maybe - not sure what sort of conversion would be needed for a 20mm female hussar - suggestions welcome.

In the meantime, here is Marshal Suchet (let us say), looking fairly calm about  the job in hand. The black gloves worn by the aides were all the rage among the staffers...

The saluting ADC is from Hagen, whose range of staff figures is getting better and more extensive all the time, and the other chaps are from Art Miniaturen, sculpted by the wonderful Jorg Schmäling.

Hooptedoodle #281 - Rats with Bushy Tails

sciurus carolinensis - introduced into the UK from North America in 19thC
 - doing very nicely, thank you

Visitor to our garden this morning - nothing particularly exotic, but a nice enough fellow.

I'm not saying that Neil the Ghillie used to shoot squirrels, mind you, but it is a fact that we never saw any here until he retired in June.

Are squirrels pests (I mean to farmers)? Maybe we'll find out over the winter.

Still haven't decided what we are going to do about our bird feeders this year. There's an experimental one attached to the kitchen window at the moment - sunflower hearts - no visitors yet; they must have given up on us. If we see any Magpies around the feeder it will be withdrawn immediately. Having said which, we've had Jackdaws for many years, and they don't bother with the feeders.

We'll wait and see.

More French Staff Figures

Just tinkering last night - some retouching, and rebasing to the new house standard. In my OOB, this chap (the one in the very silly hat) is usually Villatte or some such. The casting is Art Miniaturen's figure of Colbert, now discontinued. The regulation ADC (one for a General de Division) is a NapoleoN figure - for a while he had sky-blue overalls, which eventually I decided was a fashion statement too far, so I've toned him down a bit.

The General may be shouting, "Come on, chaps - for France and Glory!",
or he may be saying, "...no, I believe they are still chasing us..."

Next command groups in the queue are serious, 3-figure groupings on the new 60 x 60 bases (Army/Corps Commander) - I have both Soult and Suchet ready to go. This is really getting into self-indulgence territory now - Soult is certain to spend most of his time in the box, waiting for his big chance, though on the other hand his presence might encourage me to try some different scenarios - Armée du Midi stuff.