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!   

Talavera - (2) - The Game

Today Baron Stryker, Count Goya and I fought the Battle of Talavera, as promised in my last two posts. Of course it wasn't really the Battle of Talavera, it was just a game which had certain similarities. The set-up was mostly derived from a Commands & Colors user website scenario. I'm always a bit dubious about published scenarios - not that there is necessarily anything especially wrong with them. It's simply that, typically, they are designed to give both sides a fair chance of victory. In my experience, one of the risks then is that a closely balanced fight can develop into a slugfest, and little of interest happens until attrition has worn down one side or the other to a point where something decisive might become possible.

Definite signs of visiting generals - first session before lunch.

Looking along the field from the Allied left flank, at the outset. Spanish
battalion in the farm in the foreground.

Allied right, with the Spaniards defending Talavera

However, fear not - today we had an absolutely cracking game - it had everything. History was overturned yet again - the French won - just about. I was the unfortunate Cuesta, commander of the Spanish force, whom history has not remembered kindly. Typecasting again, I know. Stryker was an impressively dynamic Marshal Victor, Goya was Wellesley, with most of the work to do on the Allied side (since, historically, he had restricted the Spanish army to a defensive role, on the flanks) and with the constant frustration of not being able to bring enough force to bear where he needed it (as a direct consequence, so it serves him right!). We had a tweak in the rules: this was a battle of three armies - the British and Spanish could collaborate on the card play, but, since they had separate turns, could not co-ordinate any action directly. This worked out pretty well - by the time the battle was lost, The Spaniards still had more than enough troops to help turn the day, if they could only have been employed more usefully.

If this sounds like a gruelling session of frustration and frayed tempers, nothing could be further from the fact. The game had lots of movement - feint attacks, very exciting cavalry fights, astonishing, show-stopping volleys and even more astonishing complete misses - all conducted in a splendid spirit of enthusiasm and good humour.

The battle involved over 60 units - around 1100 castings - on a table of ten-and-a-half feet by five. We got properly started around 11:30am, and the game came to a clear conclusion at about 16:30 - and that included a sit-down lunch break of about an hour and a half, which is not bad going at all. The armies were tied on 12 Victory Points each near the end, but at the last Victor forced enough units onto the British-held ridge at the Cerro de Medellin to gain the necessary 3 bonus VPs, and it was a 15-12 win for the French. Very, very close - it really could have gone either way.

My thanks and sincere appreciation, as ever, go to my worthy collaborators. It was such a lot of fun that I didn't even mind about those deplorably streaky French dice rolls.

Well, maybe just a bit.

On the Allied right, Cuesta sees the German troops opposite starting a general
advance through the woods - this caused much alarm, but turned out to be a feint attack. 

In the centre, the key defensive point was the ridge at Cerro de Medellin - here three
companies of the 5/60th Rifles splash their way across the stream in front of
the ridge. They had a difficult day.

The French set about forming an attack here, but initially made slow progress.

Oops - a battalion of the Regimiento Ordenes Militares had the job of defending the
farm on the Allied left flank, but took fright with little real provocation, and
evacuated the place - these double retreats for the Spanish army really have the
boys running around! 

They were replaced by the Voltigeurs of King Joseph's Guard, who made a
much better job of things, and held the place for the rest of the day.

Credit where credit is due - the stand-out performance of the day came from
the French 15e Chasseurs à Cheval, who fought off all-comers on the French
right. They were still on the field at the end - battered but glorious. Special
mention in dispatches.

The French are still making little progress in the centre, as Wellesley brings
up the Coldstream Guards.

By this time, the Confederation troops opposite Cuesta have quietened down a
bit, so the Allied right flank has not very much going on.

But what's this? - Victor turns up some very heavy cards, and things start to happen.

Sudden, very rapid advance in the centre by the troops of Sebastiani and Lapisse.

Yes, this is looking serious.

To make sure their photo is in the report, the 15e Chasseurs pop up again,
this time on the end of the ridge, in order to (briefly) claim one of the bonus
VPs available. It didn't last, but the point was made.

The French suffer a few reverses in the centre, and the British defence of the
ridge looks secure for the moment, though losses are creeping up.

Suddenly, there is a rush of cavalry on the French right, near the farm. This is the
area where the British light cavalry fell down a ravine in the real battle, but
we didn't have anything like that.

What we did have was a sizeable clash of cavalry. All sorts of celebrity units - Vistula
lancers, KGL Hussars, even a unit of British Dragoon Guards. Very exciting.

The British cavalry was very successful initially, until they came up against
the dreaded 15e Chasseurs again, and everything stopped dead.

Over on the Allied right, Cuesta's infantry made a demonstration against the
Confederation boys in the woods. It didn't necessarily start off as a demonstration,
but it didn't go very well, so it became a demonstration quite quickly.

Victor appears to be calling down a thunderbolt on to Wellesley.

French now splashing through the stream, trying to get some purchase on the
ridge, and suddenly a few of the British defenders were dislodged. 12-12 in
VPs at this point - if the French can get 3 units on the ridge they've won the day.

Lots of desperate action from the Brits, while their Spanish allies are doing
very little on the flanks.

Here they come - the French are on the ridge, including - most impressively -
their astonishing charging foot artillery.

It no longer matters, but Cuesta is still disputing the woods on the right.

Heroically, but to no avail, Wellesley brings up the 16th Light Dragoons, his final throw.

But the French retain their foothold, and the battle is decided. Observe, if you will,
that two of the British generals are still on the border, and have never entered
the battlefield. Fane is in the foreground, Henry Campbell further away. The
French had two generals killed during the day; the British had two generals
who didn't turn up. Hmmm.

Over on the right, Cuesta's Spanish troops have kept the town of Talavera
safe and secure, which is exactly what they were ordered to do.

Opposite Cuesta the French forces look solid enough - Milhaud's heavy cavalry in
reserve and everything.

This photo to go to the Daily Mail, I think - and maybe Horse Guards -
Henry Campbell wondering if this was the right address - the game is over.

Fighting Next Weekend

On Saturday 30th, I'll be hosting another get-together with those Perthshire Paladins, those Transpontine Terrors, Baron Stryker and Count Goya.

Our action on this occasion will be based on the "EPIC"-sized Commands & Colors scenario for Talavera de la Reina (1809). On my largest available table, this will be staged at about one-half scale, compared to the real battle. Given some more boards and a bigger hall, Talavera is one of the Peninsular War actions I'd like to try on a full, double-width C&CN - I believe we have enough soldiers. [I'd also like to stage a hefty version of Salamanca sometime, but we might have to recruit some more division commanders, and I have some figure painting to do.]

As things stand, Talavera at one-half scale will certainly do to be going on with. I'm very much aware that the worthy JJ recently did a fabulous 18mm version of Talavera - we won't be attempting to compete with the visual riches of that fine effort, but our game promises to be pretty good anyway.

It's a well known tradition, that all the battles of the British Army took place on a hillside, in the rain, at the junction of two maps. On the 30th we shall have another logistical impediment - this is to be one of a series of Saturdays when engineering work will cause the cancellation of all train services to stations in East Lothian, so my visiting generals will have to drive here. If you suspect this might give me a slight, unfair advantage, consider (if you will) how much it must have cost me to arrange this deal with the Scotrail management. My intelligence people have been surpassing themselves.

I'll publish some set-up pictures as we get towards the end of next week.

Transpontine Again - Fighting at Stryker's

Marvellous day out yesterday - Stryker generously hosted another wargame at his country home, and I duly turned up for action, hair brushed and boots polished (or possibly vice versa). This time we were using Stryker's superb collection of Hinton Hunt figures and his own Old School rules, Muskets and Marshals. The Mysterious Goya was also present - I'm not sure if I am allowed to mention this, because of the security issue.

Any excuse to see Ian's soldiers up close is worth the trip, and Baroness Stryker produced a sumptuous lunch for us. The game was vigorous and a lot of fun. I got to command the French (I'm getting typecast, I think - could be something to do with the similarity between my nose and the French national cockade) and was rather lucky to scrape a victory - in fact, I wasn't sure I had won until I read Stryker's post, which I recommend you should peruse [click] as the authoritative summary of events.

Yet again I turned up without my proper camera, and yet again my attempts to capture moments in the day with my iPhone produced nasty, blurred results - apologies for my incompetence - I've included a few of the better of my pictures, but you should really look at Ian's (link above).

My elite voltigeurs spent much of the day bickering away with the boys from the
95th Rifles - that difference in effective range really is a bit of a problem, by the way

In a moment of misguided enthusiasm, my lancers charge the Cambridgeshire
regiment - I can duly report that the rules produced the sort of result you might have expected.
I just wondered...

Now there's smart - Stryker's lovely cuirassiers

Still trying to sort out those pesky Cambridge boys...

While, on the other flank, my Poles and Swiss make heavy weather of upsetting
the Black Watch 

Most of my games of late have been on gridded tables - it was refreshing to get a change of approach. Ian's rules are not unfamiliar to me - I have fought with them before, last year, at his Grand Birthday Bash. He was good enough to take on the role of umpire yesterday, which helped greatly with the flow of the game for us trainees, and he kept feeding reserves into the game (from a hidden store) to keep things bubbling along. I enjoyed it all thoroughly - lots of colour and splendour in the uniforms, great handfuls of dice (what a treat that is!), good, traditional rule sections like saving throws and checks to rally unhappy troops, and lots of hands-on moving of soldiers (my wargames are mostly hands-off these days, because of the Higgins bayonets, but that's another story). There were lots of good moments to savour and to remember - Goya issuing commands in Dutch to his Dutch artillery, an almost unbroken run of successful Initiative Rolls for the French (which didn't quite make up for the ineptitude of my cross-eyed grand battery, which could not have hit "a coo in the erse wi' a banjo" to use an old Scots military term), and the freshly-baked Lemon Drizzle Cake which appeared during the afternoon tea break, of which the French command still speak in hushed whispers.

All in all, a most splendid day - once again, my thanks to Baron and Baroness Stryker and to Goya for their hospitality and company. On the way home, I drove into a mighty traffic jam approaching the Forth Bridge from the north side. I found that the queue was on the new roads leading to the brand new Queensferry Crossing (the "Third Forth Bridge" for those who enjoy rubbish puns), and for a wild moment I thought it might be open ahead of schedule, but of course we were all eventually diverted back on to the existing Forth Road Bridge. I hadn't thought about it before, but this may have been the last time I ever drive over the old bridge - after the new one opens, I believe the old bridge will be used for commercial and heavy traffic only. [I've been driving on the existing bridge since 1978, and I have to admit that I have never once driven across it without wondering nervously how strong it was - a concern which has become more pertinent in recent years.]

I might mention that my wife and son and I all have passes to walk over the Queensferry Crossing on Sunday, 3rd September - the weekend of the official opening. I understand that we'll walk across one way and be bussed back. This is a big deal from the security angle - we already have our barcoded official passes, complete with mugshots, and we are to carry passports. I'm confident I'll have something to say about this after the event, and on that occasion I really must try to remember my camera.

Tamames 1809

The Spanish Regiment Irlanda moving up in support of the left flank - they
performed valiantly, but the battle was decided elsewhere.

Battle of Tamames duly took place last night - excellent game. Once again history was overturned, but we consciously abandoned the historic French script.

Our game was based on the scenario published on the C&CN user site, with a couple of minor changes to the OOB (there are some typos on the scenario, though it is otherwise well thought out). Standard size C&C table (13 x 9 hexes), and, since my colleagues were new to the rules, we used the original Command Cards. which give rather quicker game-play. As always, I used my own rules for the Spanish army, rather than official C&CN Expansion #1 rules (they are pretty similar, in fact).

In the real Battle of Tamames, we are told, General Marchand (who had temporary command of the French VI Corps, while Marshal Ney was on leave in Paris) underestimated the strength of the Spanish position, not to mention their fighting qualities, and attacked their left with insufficient strength. The Spanish won, and Napoleon was as sick as a parrot.

Since we had read our Oman, and thus had the advantage of hindsight, in our game the French abandoned this approach (it was fairly evident from the troops on the table that Maucune's brigade, on the right, even with cavalry support, was not enough to defeat what he was faced with). The scenario probably understates the Spanish numbers a bit - in particular Belvidere's reserve looked a bit sparse behind the Spanish right flank, so our 20mm Marchand last night attacked on his left - though the ridge looked a bit daunting, the numbers were more in his favour - Marcognet's brigade, with support from Labassée's, went in, though it took a while to get suitable cards to promote aggressive action on that flank.

As ever, the C&C scenario has the armies developed at the start, but the attacking side (French) have some choreography to sort out, to get their artillery up from the rear.

There's a general initial picture in my previous post about this battle. The game was pretty frantic last night - brilliant fun. This may have something to do with the action not being hamstrung by the presence of a river, nor bogged down in the defence of a strongpoint, but we certainly had a lot of movement, and C&C managed yet again to provide a game suitable to get the newbies involved and enthusiastic. As is so often the case in such circumstances, I fear the photography was not as thorough as it could have been, so I'll attempt to piece together some kind of narrative from the evidence on the camera!

The French develop their left flank attack - Marcognet to the fore, with
two battalions of 25e Léger on loan from Bardet's brigade

It took a while to get it organised, but here goes the main attack, with the second
line carefully leaving enough space for the leading units to fall back if necessary...

French artilleryman's view of the ridge opposite

Things are a little more stressful for the Spanish artillery on the other side
of the table - with 2 red loss markers showing, this battery is already at reduced
effect - one more loss and they can go for an early bath

An overall view from the Spanish right - they have plenty of troops (and
reserves!) in the centre, but there is not much happening there - at the far end
there is some brisk action - a good amount of ebb and flow. The
double-retreat rule for Spaniards had some interesting effects for the
Spanish light cavalry at the far end - any reverses and they fell back
a l-o-n-g way, so there was a great deal of dashing about - more drama
than effect mostly, though the French made good use of squares on a couple
of occasions 

General Del Parque decided against making any kind of serious defence of
the town of Tamames, and pulled out to leave the place to the French
[note the statue of St Bernardino of Siena, patron saint of hay fever]

The first wave of Marcognet's attack was halted for a while, but the Spanish troops
on the ridge were gradually getting worn down

A reverse for the French - 1/39e eliminated by an exceptional volley of musketry

With numbers starting to become a problem, the French eventually got the
1/25e Léger up onto the flank of the Spanish line...

...and they quickly put paid to the Regimiento Cantabria...

...the end is nigh - General Losada brings up his last reserve on the Spanish
right - the converged grenadiers of the Africa and Reina regiments, but neither
he nor his brave troops lasted long

History is overturned yet again - the Spanish right flank has gone, the Victory
Point tally is 11-7 (9 for the win), and it's all over...

...whichever way you look at it!