Hooptedoodle #501 - pipistrellus pipistrellus

Here in South East Scotland we have not had such extreme heat problems as elsewhere in the UK, the drought conditions have been helped by the occasional downpour, and the fact that in a sparsely-populated county like ours there is little chance at present of the imposition of a hosepipe ban. The World Cup required me to watch (or listen to) live matches at strange times like 1am, usually in pretty warm conditions up in the attic, so I beebled about in a state of constant jet-lag for a while.

Nature took the opportunity to muscle in as well; Brian the Roof Man was here about 2 weeks ago to fix some broken slates, and repair some cracks in the harling (that's probably pebbledash to you?), and he was chased off the premises by clouds of wasps. Stephen the Wasp Man arrived a day later and exterminated 5 separate nests from our roof. Sadly, he had to come back because he'd missed one, so chalk up 6. Five had been a record, but it didn't last long.

 

We assured Brian the Roof Man that we weren't much bothered by wasps - he reported back fairly quickly that we were mistaken. This is a library photo - the idea comes across well, I think

Never experienced wasps in such numbers. Stephen tells some good tales of his work, complete with the necessary tingle of Gothic awfulness. Apparently wasp behaviour has changed a bit in Scotland in recent years; changes in the climate mean that we now get some species which used to be unknown here. One of the significant incomers is a small (but persistent) German strain, which is quite happy to build a nest right next to an existing live nest, a practice which was generally verboten previously.

Since the heat has diminished a bit, waking and eating times have settled down and we are disposing of relatively few walking wounded in the wasp department, so the evenings are much more acceptable now. I've even got back to trying to do some reading, and a little music practice.

Anyway, I was reading in bed last night (Richard Feynman - laugh if you will); at about midnight the Miles Davis album I was listening to (Milestones) ended and I was puzzled to hear a rustling noise. Maybe it was from the curtains - I wasn't sure - maybe I had imagined it, or it was just the timber roof cooling down. I carried on reading for about another 10 minutes and then a bat flew across the room and settled on the wall above the door. I wasn't terrified (of course), but past instances of this sort of thing have usually banished sleep until further notice. You have to try to avoid thinking in terms of having a room that you can't use any more...

What to do? I reasoned that if I turned out the room light and opened the Velux roof light then a sensible bat would just fly out without thinking twice. So that's what I did. It worked, but there were a couple of panic breaks when the thing started to fly round and round in the limited space - they are very fast, extremely ugly, totally silent. They will not bump into you (or they shouldn't), but these circuits of the room bring on moments of mindless terror. Oh yes, and they bump repeatedly into mirrors, glazed pictures, the TV screen - just saying.  

 

pipistrellus pipistrellus - again, this is not my photo - I didn't have the resources or the detachment to get a photo of my own; this shows a specimen flying about in a more suitable environment, apparently in daylight, and a long way from me

I got the window open (in near-darkness) and Batty sat on the frame for a moment - I nudged him with my wasp-basher and he flew outside - window was closed without further incident. Pulse returned to normal levels some time afterwards. I have no idea how it got in - maybe it flew in somewhere else and made its way to the top of the house; maybe it came in when the window was open on a hot day and has been sleeping there ever since. I don't like this last idea much, especially since that means there will be messy evidence somewhere. 

As far as I can see this morning everything seems clean and tidy, and satisfactorily bat-proof, so I have to assume it visited only briefly. I'm sure it was more scared than I was, in which case it was pretty scared. Thinking about it, we have had a number of bat episodes over the years, but I think the last time we had one in that particular attic room must have been around 2001. I was a lot braver and faster in those days, but I do remember it surprisingly clearly. 

 

 

Hooptedoodle #500 - Oddie Man Out?

 I am sorry to note that Bill Oddie, entertainer and birdwatcher, has died. I confess I did not know a great deal about him, I found his TV persona in his later years a bit cute for my taste, but he was a major contributor to the popularity of birdwatching in the UK, and the author of two very good books on the subject which we have handy on our kitchen dresser, so overall he was a good guy, and I certainly offer my respects and regret at his passing.

That's really all I wanted to say about Mr Oddie - I am sure that there will be many tributes elsewhere.

Mention of him and his birding interests reminds me of a very silly old story about my Dad, from years ago. My father could become unreasonably obsessed over things which he personally found interesting, but he treated other people's interests (and abilities) in a dismissive sort of way. For him, birdwatching was somewhere in the middle; he found the birds themselves quite diverting, but disliked what he regarded as the "sort of people" who typically spent their time in the field studying the things. Especially, of course, if their expertise dwarfed his own.

The story, then. Because of some of his other personal characteristics, he, my mother and my handicapped sister, every year for maybe 10 years, used to take a holiday in a very isolated cottage on the Isle of Gigha, which is somewhere near Kintyre (if you care). I saw many of his photos, and heard at huge length how the place was idyllic, being almost completely deserted; strangely, you might think, my exposure to this has resulted in my never having had any wish at all to visit there, though I'm sure it's lovely.

The particular incident in the story must have taken place some Autumn in the 1990's. My dad went out for a walk on his own, to the next bay, while my mother and sister prepared the evening meal. While he was walking along, in his big boots and ancient waterproof jacket, armed with his enormous ex-Russian army Zeiss-rip-off binoculars, he suddenly found that there were thousands of very large brown birds sitting all over the sand hills on the next bay. It is likely that they might have been Pink-Footed Geese on an Autumn migration - I wouldn't know.

He was very impressed by the sight - it was getting too dusky for a photo, so he watched them for a minute or two, and then clapped his hands, loudly, twice to watch them fly away. Then he discovered that many dozens of people in strange outdoor clothing were rising to their feet from behind gorse bushes, sand dunes, clumps of coarse grass; some of them were shouting, some waving their fists, all  of them were very displeased, and a few were heading his way. It seems that many enthusiasts come to this isolated spot at this time of year, in the hope of seeing this life-affirming event.

He must have been having an unusually sensible day; he scarpered, round a headland, and eventually got back to the cottage, a bit late for supper. To be fair about it, he used to tell this tale at his own expense ever after, while my mum rolled her eyes and shook her head.

Oops.

A further digression follows. In those days Gigha was privately owned. The owner of the island was reputed to be a bit eccentric, and he used to manage the letting of the cottages himself. One year, in his desperation to ensure he managed to book a cottage in August or September, Dad contacted the owner (by letter, of course) around February time. The owner wrote back, very politely, and thanked him for his repeat business, but explained that he was not intending to open the holiday cottage books until the beginning of April, so he would get back in contact when that happened. He also assured my dad that he would be allocated a cottage in August.

Dad couldn't cope with not having the deal finalised, and fretted about it (driving my mum bananas, of course), and then started sending weekly letters to the owner, demanding that a formal booking be completed NOW. This went on for a number of weeks (the number varied, depending whom you asked), until the owner sent another letter - still very polite - saying that enough was enough and that my Dad and his family were now permanently off his customer lists.

Oops.

The geese and the birdwatchers were probably quietly pleased. The Isle of Gigha was later the subject of a Community Buy-Out financed by National Lottery and the Highlands & Islands Enterprise. I have no idea where the former owner now spends his own holidays.

WSS: Oosterkasteel - Goodness Gracious

 I followed the calendar very carefully, and Thursday arrived right on schedule, as did Baron Stryker, having braved the perils of the high road around the capital of Scotland. We had what looked like a heavy day's fighting ahead of us, so we got off to a brisk start. If you would like to see a picture of the initial position, you'll find one in my previous post.

Our OOB was thus, Stryker's Franco-Bavarian army having 5 brigades (of which 3 were still to arrive), and my Allied force having 4: 

French Army (Maréchal de France Clément-Alibert, Comte de Rabachière)     
(13 horse; 24 foot; 3 art; 6 leaders)

Bourgeois’ Cavalry Brigade [1] (Marquis de Bourgeois)
Gendarmérie de France (6 Sqns) (elite)
Régt de Grignan (3 Sqns)
Régt de La Baume (3 Sqns)
Régt de Lavallière (3 Sqns)
Régt du Mestre de Camp (3 Sqns)
Régt du Roi (3 Sqns)
D’Arco’s Cavalry Brigade [2] (Graf Johan Baptist d’Arco) (Bavarian)
Régt de Tarnault (3 Sqns)
Dragons de La Vrillière (3 Sqns)
KR d’Arco (Bavarian) (3 Sqns)
KR Costa (Bavarian) (3 Sqns)
KR Weichel (Bavarian) (3 Sqns)
KR Wolframsdorf (Bavarian) (3 Sqns)
Pelletier’s Infantry Brigade [3] (Comte Pelletier de Montmarie)
Régt de Béarn (2 Bns)
Régt de Champagne (2 Bns)
Régt du Dauphin (2 Bns)
Régt de Navarre (2 Bns)
1 field battery
Coustine’s Infantry Brigade [4] (Marquis de Coustine)
Régt de Languedoc (1 Bn)
Régt de Nettancourt (1 Bn)
Régt de Poitou (2 Bns)
Régt de Saintonge (1 Bn)
Régt de Toulouse (1 Bn)
IR Bettendorf (Bavarian) (2 Bns)
1 field battery
Maffei’s Infantry Brigade [5] (Marquis de Maffei) (Bavarian)
IR Boismorel (Bavarian) (1 Bn)
IR Haxthausen (Bavarian) (2 Bns)
IR Kurprinz (Bavarian) (2 Bns)
IR Leibgrenadieren (Bavarian) (1 Bn) (elite)
IR Maffei (Bavarian) (1 Bn)
IR d’Octfort (Bavarian) (1 Bn)
1 field battery (Bavarian)

Allied Army (Lt Gen Charles Churchill)    
(9 horse; 14 foot; 3 art; 3 independent art; 5 leaders)

Pickering’s Cavalry Brigade [1] (Br Gen Sir Mortimer Pickering)
Cadogan’s Regt (3 Sqns)
Lumley’s (Queen’s) Regt (3 Sqns)
Schomberg’s Regt (3 Sqns)
Wood’s Regt (3 Sqns)
Wyndham’s Regt (3 Sqns)
Niederhammer’s Cavalry Brigade [2] (GM Graf Niederhammer) (Austrian)
KR Cusani (Austrian) (3 Sqns)
KR Lobkowicz (Austrian) (3 Sqns)
Leibregiment zu Pferd (Hessen-Kassel) (3 Sqns)
Spiegel Karabiniere (Hessen-Kassel) (3 Sqns)
Cirencester’s Infantry Brigade [3] (Br Gen Earl of Cirencester)
1^st Foot Guards (1 Bn) (elite)
Chas Churchill’s (Buffs) Regt (1 Bn)
Ferguson’s (Cameronian) Regt (1 Bn)
Howe’s Regt (1 Bn)
Hamilton’s (Royal Irish) Regt (1 Bn)
Duke of Marlborough’s Regt (1 Bn)
Lord North & Grey’s Regt (1 Bn)
1 field battery
Pentecost’s Infantry Brigade [4] (Br Gen Jan-Hendrik van Pentecost (Dutch))
Lord Orkney’s (Royal) Regt (1 Bn)
Rowe’s (Scots Fusiliers) Regt (1 Bn)
Webb’s Regt (1 Bn)
IR Leib zu Fuss (Hessen-Kassel) (1 Bn)
IR Erbprinz (Hessen-Kassel) (1 Bn)
IR Prinz Wilhelm (Hessen-Kassel) (1 Bn)
IR Stückrad (Hessen-Kassel) (1 Bn)
2 field batteries
Independent (Part of Fortress Garrison)
3 mortar batteries

 

 

Dug in; one of Pentecost's British batteries, waiting for the French attack

My early tactic was to sit tight, firing my guns as occasion presented itself, otherwise waiting to see where the arriving French intended to press. Some kind of narrative should emerge from the photos, though I have to say that things did get pretty hectic after the first hour, and the picture-taking duties slid a bit at times.

 

The initial artillery exchanges didn't really have much effect, then the French had to move their early arrivals forward, to make room for what was to follow. I was surprised to see that General Bourgeois' cavalry, on the French left, charged straight across the table, and my boys were in trouble right away...

 

We lost Cadogan's Regt of Horse, a field battery and General Pickering (and his dog, illustrated) in the first fight; that meant we were 3-0 down on Victory Pts, 10 being the requirement for the win and the main French army not yet on the table

 

From behind the Allied right, this general view shows the French arriving in the distance. After my shaky start, I was thinking nervously of the film Zulu 

 

 

The infantry in the French centre (Maffei's Bavarians in front) pressed forward.

 

At this point, Cirencester's brigade advanced 200 paces from their position on the road to Blanke; as I recall, I was thinking that if I was going to get splattered anyway then this would give me a little more room for a fighting withdrawal...

 

From behind the French left, you can just make out that the Bavarians pushed right into our front line, but they were taking losses - 4 white loss counters eliminates a unit, so some of the enemy were looking a little battered. I had brought my left-flank cavalry around behind the centre (beneath the old citadel wall), but I was 5-1 down and expecting a collapse at any moment

 

[Gulp]

 

 

The Activation process now presented me with a lucky break - Pentecost's brigade on my left got a special bonus of extra movement and extra combat dice and - since the French opposite were not rushing to attack our earthwork, we did the unthinkable, charged out of the trenches and attacked Pelletier's boys - it didn't go quite as well as I had hoped, but it wasn't bad at all - we had scraped the score back to 7-8...

 

The French attack in the centre became rather bogged down as units fell back and lost momentum, and Maffei's infantry appeared to impede the progress of Coustine's fresher troops behind them. The score got to 8-all, 9-8 to the Allies (first time we had been ahead) then 9-all...

 

Of course the photographer missed it, but over on the Allied left the Hesse-Kassel IR Prinz Wilhelm, in the village of Neerhespen, routed the 1/Dauphin and we had stolen the victory, 10-9. In this photo, the Allied survivors at Blanke have somehow driven off the main attack, and they can hear the cheering from the other end of the line

 

We finished in about 4 hours, allowing for a pause for lunch. My thanks and compliments to Ian for a remarkable fight. We both ended the game more than a little stunned - certainly the most intense game I've been involved in for a while!

I had a think about how things had gone (as one does) once I had regained my senses. The rules stood up to the grinding match pleasingly well; if I'd had a brain I should probably have used the table extension (17 x 9 instead of 13 x 9), but I've rather got out of the habit of thinking about that since the big table is tricky with Zoom cameras for remote games - no matter, the game was fine, but Ian would have had more scope for getting his army on the table without gridlock; I was embarrassingly lucky with the bonus, just in the nick of time. Oh - yes - and the mortars in the fortress were so useless that I stopped using them! 

WSS: Thursday's Game - the Initial Set-Up

 This is the battlefield which I showed in uninhabited form a few days ago. We have now decided:

(1) The action is the little-known Battle of Oosterkasteel, somewhere in a very flat part of Wallonia, probably in 1703.

(2) Stryker will be the esteemed Marshal Rabachière, with a Franco-Bavarian force

(3) I [Foy] will be Lieutenant General "Charlie" Churchill, defending with an Allied army which has British, Austrian and Hessian contingents 

(4) The Allied army, which is rather smaller, will be fully deployed at the start of the game, having spent a week digging earthworks to strengthen what looks rather like a hopeless position. This army has 4 brigades present - 2 foot and 2 horse

(5) The French are marching onto the field at the start of the game - they will have 2 brigades present at first, with 3 further brigades to follow as opportunity and activation cubes allow.

Here is the position at the beginning of Turn 1

 

Looking along the Allied line at 6am, before the French arrive. Chubby Charlie is very keen that his army should die in straight lines, like gentlemen

 

A better view of the Allied left; Niederhammer's cavalry (Austrian and Hessian) provide rear support for Pentecost's (Anglo-Hessian) infantry brigade, which is manning the new earthworks as far as the protruding section in the centre. Pentecost has two artillery batteries dug in - if I can find some, there may be a few gabions added to the batteries by Thursday

 

The Allied right flank; Pickering's cavalry on the end of the line, with the Earl of Cirencester's infantry beyond

 

This very early drone shot shows Dutch mortars in the citadel, trying to find space to deploy

 

Aha - the French are arriving. Here we have Bourgeois' cavalry in the foreground...

 

...and here Alessandro Maffei's Bavarian infantry brigade; the French have 3 more brigades to arrive after the preliminary artillery battle

 

A general view at this stage shows the French avoiding the earthworks...

 

Specially for Matt, who has a thing about guys with big hair, here is Charles Churchill

 

and the Comte de Rabachière, who will be along soon with the rest of his army

 

and Alessandro Maffei, born in Verona, one of a bewildering number of Italians who held high command in the Bavarian army during the 18th and 19th Centuries 

Stryker has sent word that his boys are to rest on their arms until Thursday. I believe the terminology is correct, but it sounds uncomfortable. 

Hooptedoodle #499 - Yet More Family Archives

My mother died in November last year. I've had in my possession some boxes of her private papers for a few years; I've been looking after them for her. Now that she definitely does not want them back, it's time to take a deep breath and sort out what's there.

I have done some preliminary tidying up a little while ago. I threw out masses of wedding photos of complete strangers (usually the children of my mother's work colleagues), greetings cards to and from people I never heard of. There still remains a stack of assorted birth certificates and so on, which I shall have a look through.

Also in there is a parcel of unfinished family research which was carried out by my late cousin, Dave. Sadly - as is often the case - Dave started on this project after he found out he was terminally ill, once he was no longer working; he achieved a lot, and I shall be interested to have a nose through what is there, and reduce some of it to short notes for my own information. The thing to remember is that nobody actually cares any more; I've tried to pass on some family history to my own sons in the past, and they were polite about it, but very obviously weren't interested!

I hope to have a fascinating few weeks trawling through Dave's final efforts. One thing I found quickly was some information about yet another unknown soldier in the archives, Lt Col Ralph Hindle (originally from Chorley in Lancashire), who commanded the 4th Bn of the Loyal North Lancs Regt and was killed at Cambrai on 30th Nov 1917. I reckon he was my maternal grandmother's uncle (or maybe second-cousin) - my maternal grandmother being the infamously eccentric Preston Grannie who is quoted here now and then. I never heard of him before, anyway.

The Loyal North Lancs had rather a convoluted history - I think the 4th Bn may formerly have been a Territorial formation - no doubt I'll find out more as I get into the paperwork. The family were mostly Lancashire people - Dave learned quite quickly from his research that a great many of the Hindle males were named John or Ralph, and the females were usually named Mary or Alice (or both), so some care and attention to dates of birth is required to sort out who was who. Again - quite apart from war casualties - when you look at family details it is astonishing how high a proportion of the children died in infancy in the late 19th and early 20th Centuries in Northern industrial towns. Hmmm.

I have tidied everything back into a single box for the moment - there are hundreds of old photos in there, so I'll need to get very organised. 

 

 

WSS: Game Coming Up Next Week

 I've started putting together a battle for next week. The following introduction is shamelessly cribbed from my email to Stryker today - apologies, Ian - I can only think about anything once a day.

The scenario is influenced (a bit) by the Battle of Neerwinden 1693 (aka Landen), though it is 10 years later (and therefore has no pikes), and is not (of course) the Battle of Neerwinden - it is much smaller, for a start.

An Allied army (Anglo-Hessian, this time) is in an area near to a small (but interesting) fortress, to protect it from the attentions of the French. As it happens, the French have decided to clear out this protecting army, and have sent a larger force to deal with them. The Allied commander has opted to stay in the area, and his men have been busy digging some earthworks to strengthen their position. 

The earthworks are not that formidable - if someone is defending them then they will be a nuisance, but if there is no-one there they can be walked through - even by cavalry. 

On the edge of the table is the citadel, which is really just a bit of extra scenic interest, and is pretty much off limits, since the French do not have their Siege Train with them (this time, though the intention is to come back with the siege train once they've cleared the defending force out of the area). The (Dutch) garrison is small (about 2 battalions) and cannot be attacked, and is not available to the Allied side as a reinforcement - also the Allied troops cannot enter the fortress; it  does, however, have a few mortars available which can provide a bit of supporting fire for the Allies. Mortars have a long range, but are prone to misfires, which might just mean that the shells don't detonate, but could also mean that the mortar suffers damage right up to a complete write-off (if the shell explodes in the barrel, for example). The self-igniting shell is still some years in the future. The French army is quite a bit bigger than the Allied, and they have 5 brigade cubes to the Allies' 3 (probably). The mortars in the fort are not a brigade, but may be activated along with any of the Allied brigades (only once a turn, obviously).

There will be a preliminary artillery exchange - haven't had one for a while. 

I'll probably make another post once the soldiers arrive.

 

 

My old ECO plastic Ritterburg looms on the table edge - mostly to add a bit of visual interest, but the defending side will be able to call on a few of the fortress's guns for support

 

 

The defending side has put in many hours of spadework, which I am sure they hated, but they may gain some benefit from the time spent

 

 

Haven't yet decided which general will command which army. We do know there will be some bonus victory points if the French take any of the villages. Residents should probably check their property insurance policies

 

 

Hooptedoodle #498 - It Was Only a Matter of Time

It seems that the Almighty Festering Lard Barrel has decided to interfere in the World Cup. Well of course he has; what took him so long? 

He truly is an inspiration to us all. I'm writing to the US Supreme Court this afternoon, to see if they would like to review a few VAR offside decisions from Scotland's brief involvement in the competition. It must be worth a shot, you would think?