Hooptedoodle #57a - Plan 9 from Outer Space

Following my reference to The Forbidden Planet in a recent post, I had an interesting exchange of emails with Prof De Vries, who reminded me of some of his other favourite sci-fi memories. In particular, he sent me a link to a clip of what he describes as "the worst bits from the lumpiest film ever made" - Plan 9 from Outer Space.

Sounds irresistible, I know. For all devoted fans of Ed Wood's wonderful "movie disaster", here it is. Enjoy.

Prof De Vries assures me they don't make them like this any more. I hope he's right.

Solo Campaign - The Battle of Almeida

The Battle of Almeida, 28^th May 1812

Part of the fortress of Almeida - stocked for a siege?

The Earl of Wellington, with the Third and Seventh Divns of the Anglo-Portuguese army, arrived at the approach to the fortress of Almeida at around 10am on 28^th May, on an overcast morning. He also had an improvised brigade of cavalry, assembled from the remains of the two regiments of KGL heavy dragoons (now commanded by Col. de Jonquieres) and of Otway’s Portuguese cavalry brigade. Karl von Alten, with the Allied Light Divn and his brother’s brigade of light cavalry, was on the march to join him from the South West, and was expected any time after midday.

He was confronted by Clauzel’s Divn of the Armee de Portugal, with a small force of attached dragoons and a useful proportion of the army’s reserve artillery. Clauzel also was expecting reinforcements, since Maucune, with his division and a mixed force of cavalry under Treillard, was marching from Ciudad Rodrigo, and was also expected sometime after noon.

Clauzel had been detailed to mask the fortress of Almeida, in preparation for the arrival of Marshal Jourdan with a full besieging army, and he was now driven in near to the walls, which could bring two half-batteries of Portuguese Artillery to bear on his force if they came too close. Clauzel was careful to deploy out of range of the bastions where these garrison guns were placed.

[The reinforcements of Maucune and  Von Alten started off-table – after Turn 5, a dice roll of 6 (for each army) would announce the arrival of the extra troops – Von Alten on Wellington’s right, Maucune behind Clausel’s right-centre. Units could be called on to the table as Command Cards allowed, and Leaders would arrive attached to units. The Allies had first move throughout, 5 cards each, and 9 Victory Banners to decide things.]

The area surrounding the fortress is fairly barren, and has been systematically cleared of timber over the years. There were some small ridges approximately a mile from the walls, and a cluster of buildings at the deserted seminary of Las Natillas, which was the scene of bitter fighting during the early part of the day.

Aware of the need to press on, Wellington attacked Clauzel’s left and front with Picton’s Third Divn, who became badly bogged down in attempting to dislodge the formidable 3/25e Leger from the seminary. The French troops maintained a remarkable rate and accuracy of fire, and Picton’s men suffered badly for a while.

On the left, Wellington sent Cotton with some of the cavalry and the Seventh Divn, to advance close in to the walls of the fortress, under cover of the guns, in an attempt to turn Clauzel’s right.

The action was intense throughout this period – both sides suffering heavy losses, and with no obvious superiority emerging. The French refused to commit their usual mistake of being drawn from their defensive position, and for a while they had  a 2-0 lead in Victory Banners, but thereafter there was never a difference greater than 1 between the sides, until the very end.

The Light Divn duly arrived at 12:30, and promptly cleared the defenders out of the seminary, and the attack on the main French position proceeded in rather confused fashion, troops being thrown in as they arrived – Wellington suffered somewhat from getting most of his horse artillery (with which he was well supplied, and which should have been invaluable in the assault) stuck behind the infantry.

On the Allied left, Cotton’s outflanking move went fairly well and his cavalry had some early success, which was subsequently wasted as the squadrons (inevitably) pushed too far and were lost. Clauzel spent an anxious couple of hours waiting for Maucune’s troops to arrive, and they eventually showed up around 2pm [taking excellent advantage of a Forced March card to get all the infantry on to the field very quickly], pushing back Cotton’s men.

Still the result was very much in the balance, and the Victory Banners score reached 7-7. Around this time (about 4pm), Treillard’s cavalry, who had arrived with Maucune, caused some panic among the Seventh Divn, but were bravely resisted by the 1^st Light Bn of the KGL, who formed square and held their ground, despite heavy musketry which the French brought to bear on them. The Earl of Dalhousie, arrived in the Peninsula within the last few weeks to take command of the Seventh Divn, was mortally wounded in this square. [8-all at this point...]

By this stage, Treillard’s men had become rather casual about the guns on the walls of Almeida, which had failed to hit anything all day, and approached too closely as they came in to finish off the KGL square. The Allies played a Bombard card, which gives bonus dice to any artillery in action, and the Almeida gunners finally produced a show-closing couple of volleys, which wrecked the 4e Dragons and wounded Treillard himself before the cavalry could contact the square. One Victory Banner each for the loss of the cavalry unit and the Leader – the Allies had won by 10-8! An unexpected way to end, but the French had had enough – since the victory was marginal, they retired in good order towards Ciudad Rodrigo, using their fresh cavalry (in particular the Lanciers de la Vistule and the 14e Chasseurs a Cheval) to cover the retreat. There would be no siege at Almeida for the time being.

Though he did not know it at the time, this was to be Wellington’s last victory in the Peninsula, since he had [wait for it...] been given the boot by the British parliament.

    

OOBs

French Force – Gen de Divn Bertrand, Baron Clauzel

Clauzel’s (2^nd) Divn, Armee de Portugal

Bde Berlier – 25e Leger & 27e Ligne (4 bns)

Bde Pinoteau – 50e & 59e Ligne (5)

15/3e Art a Pied (Capt. Pajot)

10/3e & 19/3e Art a Pied (From reserve - Capts. Dyvincourt & Gariel)

Attached cavalry (Col. Picquet) – 6e & 11e Dragons (4 Sqns)

Arrived 2pm:

5^th Divn, Armee de Portugal (Gen de Divn Antoine-Louis Popon, Baron Maucune)

Bde Arnauld – 15e & 66e Ligne (4 Bns)

Bde Montfort – 82e & 86e Ligne (4)

11/8e Art a Pied (Capt. Genta)

Brigade Treillard – 4e Dragons, 14e Chasseurs, 7e Chev-Lanc (Vistule), Dragoni Napoleone (12 Sqns)

Total force engaged approx 15000 men with 32 guns. Loss approx 3765 men – Gen Treillard slightly wounded, Col Picquet unhorsed but only shaken.

Allied Force – Lt.Gen Sir Arthur, Earl Wellington

Third Divn (Maj.Gen Sir Thomas Picton)

Col. Wallace’s Bde – 1/45^th, 74^th & 1/88^th Ft + 3 coys 5/60^th

Col. J Campbell’s Bde – 2/5^th, 2/83^rd & 94^th Ft

Palmeirim’s Bde – 9^th & 21^st Ptgse + 11^th Cacadores (5 Bns total)

10/9^th Bn Royal Artillery (Maj. Douglas)

Seventh Divn (Maj.Gen Earl of Dalhousie)

Col. Halkett’s Bde – 1^st & 2^nd Lt Bns KGL

Von Bernewitz’ Bde – combined Lt Bn (51^st & 68^th Ft) + Chasseurs Britanniques

Troop E, RHA (Capt. MacDonald)

Attached cavalry (Lt.Gen Sir Stapleton Cotton) – provisional units of KGL & Ptgse dragoons

Troop A, RHA (Maj. Bull)

Arrived approx 12:30pm:

Light Divn (Maj.Gen Karl, Baron Von Alten)

Col. Beckwith’s Bde – 1/43^rd & 1/95^th + 1^st Cacadores

Vandeleur’s Bde – 1/52^nd & 2/95^th + 3^rd Cacadores

Troop I, RHA (Maj. Ross)

attached: Thomar Militia Bn

Viktor Von Alten’s Bde – 1^st Hussars KGL, Brunswick-Oels Hussars

Total force engaged, approx 17200 men with 20 guns, plus two half-batteries of the 4^th Portuguese Artillery Regt, who provided supporting fire from the walls of Almeida. Total loss approx 3300 men; Maj.Gen The Earl of Dalhousie received a mortal wound from a musket ball and died during the night.

Detail losses:

French – 1/25L, 2/25L (-2 blocks each), 3/25L (-4), 2/27, Berlier’s Tirailleur Bn, 1/50 (-1 each), 6e Dragons (-1), 11e Dragons (-2), 5/82 (-1), 2/86 (-2), 4e Dragons (-2)

Anglo-Portuguese – 1/45^th, 5/60^th, 2/5^th (-1 each), 94^th (-2), 1^st Lt Bn KGL (-1), 51^st (-2), 68^th, 1^st KGL Dgns, 2^nd KGL Dgns, 1^st Ptgse Cav, 11^th Ptgse Cav (-1 each), 1^st Cacadores (-2), 1/52^nd (-1), 2/95^th (-2).

The Pictures (as ever, my thanks to my son Nick for his photography)

The Earl's final appearance

Clauzel deploys his troops well away from the fortress guns

The 3rd battalion of the 25e Leger - determined defence

The joy of Command Cards - Cotton (in the silly red uniform)

finds that his provisional Portuguese cavalry are short of something,

and have to go back - not sure what it was, but it was all very embarrassing...

Clauzel showing some impatience when the dice which is supposed to cue the

arrival of his reinforcements refuses to produce a 6

Portuguese artillery and militia on the San Pedro bastion

Maucune - brave but not beautiful

MacDonald's Troop, RHA - one of the few artillery units

which performed well

French reinforcements stream onto the field in the background

The square of the 1st Lt Bn KGL - in reality, of course, Dalhousie

should have been inside the thing, but it didn't help him anyway

Hooptedoodle #57 - The Banks & the Krell

It is easy to use a blog as a dumping ground to share visions of gloom, or to have a sad little go at someone or something one has a personal grievance about. I try not to go overboard, and I try to keep it humorous, but I admit that I have a tendency to make a noise if I think something is sufficiently bloody awful to warrant it. I realise it may not achieve a great deal, but at least I’ve contributed my rather shrill tuppenceworth. This, I am led to understand, is one of the merits of the Internet.

Like most of the population of the UK, I’ve been a bit depressed by the state of our banking industry recently. I never worked for a bank, but I did work in the finance industry for my entire salaried life, and my views on this may be better informed than most.

There is a lot of virtuous outrage (partly fuelled, as ever, by public envy of personal wealth) over the situation of the gentleman at Barclays who may or may not be answerable for some stupefyingly corrupt behaviour in the Bad Old Days just before the world ended in 2008. I don’t wish to add any further silliness to what is already a hysterical issue, but I am mystified by his defence that it wasn’t him, that there were people who worked for him who were responsible, and he didn’t know.

OK – I’m not actively involved now, and maybe values have changed, but it seems to me that:

(1) If they pay you a lot of money to be in charge, then ultimately you are accountable for what happens in your area.

(2) Naturally you cannot know everything that goes on, but you are obliged to stay on top of things – to ensure that governance, procedures, rules and an ethical culture are in place to check that staff know what they can and cannot do, and to enforce correct behaviour. If you do not manage to do this – and it will not be easy – then you have failed in your job and you are answerable.

(3) Thus (in my extremely humble opinion) the man from Barclays either knew what was going on – in which case he is culpable – or else he was not in control – in which case he failed in his job and is therefore still culpable. It’s a tough life in a top job – that’s why they get all that money.

Anyway, that’s not what I wanted to write about. I wanted to write about the Krell.

If anything, I am more alarmed by the software failure at NatWest Bank last week – a system change caused problems which separated many of NatWest’s customers from their money for a period of days, and generated huge inconvenience and actual hardship. Scary.

On a smaller and less disastrous scale, I had a customer’s-eye view of the recent switch of Bank of Scotland to Lloyd’s Bank’s computer systems. It wasn’t good. For a period of some months, the bank was running with an interim system which had customers queuing up to fill in slips of paper in a manner such as I had not seen since the 1980s. Retro banking. I am confident that Lloyds and Bank of Scotland did their best in a difficult situation, but for a while their systems were really not fit for purpose. It’s a dangerous sign, but on a number of occasions I found myself thinking that this would not have been tolerated in my day.

My day? What the blazes has it got to do with me, then? Well, as it happens, I was a computer person for almost all my working life. By the late 1990s I was in charge of all business software development for a very large financial institution which shall forever remain nameless, and I knew the guys who had the equivalent roles in most of the UK banks – and they were good. They would not have rolled out any system which didn’t work, or which used customer inconvenience as a buffer to tide them over.

So what has changed?

Well, I was also around when the seeds of the coming storm were sown in the 1970s and 80s, so I have a very fair idea what I’m talking about. Which brings me to the Krell.

I don’t remember the details – maybe you do – but in the film The Forbidden Planet the Krell are a mighty, super-intelligent race of beings who have died out (for reasons I also cannot remember – perhaps they smoked), and part of their legacy is a collossal underground computer installation, which has been running for thousands of years and is still running – and nobody knows what it is doing.  That’s the important bit – since no-one knows what it is doing, no-one dares switch it off.

Right. Back to the 1980s.

In the 1980s I was a business systems analyst. We were hotshots. We would go into a traditional business department and we would ask them all about what they did and how it worked. We would capture the expertise of some very experienced and intelligent, professional people, and we would draw dataflow diagrams and build data models and we would automate their processes. It was brilliant. We used to make people happy – we took huge amounts of drudgery out of their jobs, we built in safeguards and automatic audit trails, and we saved them enormous amounts of money. When Jeannie who did the commission work became pregnant and left (and people did things like that in those days) then they didn’t need to replace her. Not only that, but any new staff who did come in required much less training, since a lot of the expertise and decision-making was now built into the computer system.

Fantastic. It was a wonderful job – people actually loved us. I have never been so happy at work.

Move the clock on 10 years. It is time to go back to one of our departments and their 1980s systems, and see what needs to be done to get things squeaky again – because there is now an accumulated tangle of 10 years of emergency fixes, rushed changes to support product launches and new regulations. Time for a detox.

Problems. If the analyst sat down with the new department manager in 1990, he might well be talking to someone who had no experience of this area before the systems were put in. It was almost certain that this manager would be unaware of some of the business rules, because they were now built into the desktop system – they just happened automatically. Similarly, the new model of the business process they agreed on might well omit a vital job which happened every night at 2am in the middle of a batch run which no-one understood any more.

Around this time, we used to talk a lot about system ownership. Business managers would laugh at this, and produce comic visions of putting their system in a bag and taking it home, but by and large they had washed their hands of understanding. When the computer systems arrived, responsibility for understanding the business shifted by default to the IT people. They had, after all, got everyone into this mess.

Well, the bad news is made even worse by the fact that the computer analysts had moved on as well, and the constant focus in the business world will always be to cope with new changes. Maintaining the old stuff is a lower priority – especially when it comes to allocating the budget. Yes, we know the roof is leaking and the foundations are sinking, but what we really want is a shiny new barbecue and some of that decking stuff. Great.

Everyone remembers that there was a huge panic prompted by fear that the year 2000 would cause disastrous software failures – a lot of money was spent and a lot of effort expended. Since we are all still here I guess it worked, but the thing I remember most is the effort that went into digging into that mysterious old software – paying over the odds for people who knew how it worked and – most scary of all – finding people who could still read the ancient languages it was written in. Looking, in fact, for surviving members of the Krell.

And still time passes, and still the software deteriorates, and still our understanding of what the great machine is doing becomes more hazy. Yes, business managers should have paid more attention and kept in touch with how things work, and – certainly – IT people should have spent less time obsessing about crap like Information Engineering and client-server and object-oriented and (who can forget...) artificial intelligence, but the fact is that they didn’t. Lots of money should have been devoted to keeping the old systems up-to-date and clearly understood and operationally viable, but it wasn’t.

The Krell are dead. The machines are still running. The problems at NatWest are just the beginning, gentlemen. The decay of old systems is exponential. Building replacement systems is not possible, because nobody any longer understands what it is they would be required to do.

Welcome to the beginning of the end. I must have a look on Amazon and see if I can get a cheap DVD of The Forbidden Planet.

Solo Campaign - Week 19

If You Can't Fight, Wear a Big Hat

Well, much to my surprise, the poll returned General Banastre Tarleton as the replacement for the unfortunate Earl Wellington. My personal vote was for Sir David Baird, but it became obvious very early that he was not in the running, and I became so convinced that Rowland Hill (the conservative historian's choice) would get the nod that I have prepared and undercoated a 20mm Minifigs OPC mounted Hill ready for the job.

I then took my eye off the ball for a few days and - crikey - Tarleton it is. Righto - I'm happy to go with that. If we are to invent our own history, then it might as well be fun. As part of my preparation for the handover, I also blew the dust off my unread copy of Wellington's Right Hand, the bio of Hill, and remembered why I had shelved it last time. A good general, Hill, a worthy, God-fearing man and concerned for the well-being of his men, but boring. Really not the sort of cartoon character I need to excite the campaign a bit.

Which leaves me with a slight problem supplying a figure for Tarleton. I could just use the Rowland Hill figure, but I would always know who it was really. Of course, it is more than likely that General Tarleton would make a high-profile return to active command in a smart regulation uniform, but that would also be boring, and fans of his eponymous helmet (I always wanted to use that word in a blog post) would be (literally) crestfallen. I had some wild ideas about getting hold of an AWI British Legion figure, but can't find anything the right size. So I am now thinking that Bloody Ban will wear some appropriate variant on his official uniform as colonel-in-chief of the 21st Light Dragoons - watch for developments...

Very many thanks to everyone who voted - I've never tried a poll before, and it introduced another dimension of variable into the game, for which I am very grateful.

Wellington, of course, doesn't know he's a goner yet, and is likely to go out with a bang, since there are two battles lined up for this campaign week. Just when I am going to get to fight these is uncertain, with holidays looming and a couple of other Real Life issues bubbling away, so the campaign will probably slip a bit further. Hopefully next week - I'll make a note to get them fought next week.

Unless there is a change in fortunes, Tarleton may have no army to command!

The Tarleton helmet, of course, has a great appeal, not least because it was just about impossible to obtain 20mm light dragoons wearing such a thing for a great many years. Elegant, it was (sadly) unpopular with the troops, it was expensive to manufacture, deteriorated in the field, and weighed about half a ton when wet. Smart, though, eh? Here's the nuts-&-bolts report - returns and maps will follow once the battles are done and written up.

Week 19

Random Events

After the British parliament’s decision to remove Wellington from the command of the Anglo-Portuguese forces in the Peninsula, it has been decided to appoint Sir Banastre Tarleton to succeed him.

A veteran of the American War of Independence, now 58, Tarleton is a controversial figure, and a surprise choice. With the rank of full General, he outranks all officers in the Peninsula and is expected to arrive to take up his appointment sometime in June. The powers-that-be [i.e. me] were so confident that Rowland Hill would get the vote that something of a scramble has started to get everything ready. To celebrate his new role – his first field command for over 20 years – Tarleton has also been created Earl of Aigburth by special order of the Prince Regent, a title which comes with an estimated income from the Aigburth and Grassendale estates totalling some 85 pounds per annum.

Wellington is not yet aware of the decision to remove him, so continues to command in the field.

Housekeeping

The 3D3 activation throws give Allies 7, French 6 – Allies elect to move first.

Moves

Allies (7 allowed)

1 – Sp C (Morillo) march from Alcaniz into Zaragoza

2 – Sp E (newly defined group of approx 5000 irregular troops under local leader Saturnino Mira) move from Cuenca to Alarcon

3 – E (Clinton) march from Porto to Coimbra

4 – A (Wellington) splits off Graham with the 1^st Division (as new Anglo-Portuguese Group B), and leaves this group at Braga with Sp B (De Espana).

5 – The reduced A then marches to Almeida – since this is a difficult road, the customary test is required:

2D3 = 4 +3 (Wellington’s rating) -1 (brown road) = 6   - march is completed with no problems

...and he moves to attack Clauzel’s force (French O), which is blockading Almeida.

6 – C (Von Alten, at Abrantes) is also ordered to Almeida to support this attack

 [Intelligence step –

• no scouting orders]

French (6 allowed)

1 – E (Abbé, at Lodosa) marches to Tudela

2 – G (Lacharrue, with the rest of Abbé’s Divn at Roncal) marches to Sadaba – both these moves being to meet the threat of Morillo at Zaragoza

3 – N (Marmont, at Orense) marches over the mountain roads into Portugal, to attack Graham and De Espana at Braga. This march requires a test:

2D3 = 6 +3 (Marmont’s rating) -1 (brown road) = 8   - no problems at all

4 – K (Jourdan, at Ciudad Rodrigo), splits off two new Groups...

5 – H (Chassé’s brigade of Darmagnac’s Divn) is installed as garrison of Ciudad Rodrigo, where they commence work on the repair of the defences, and

6 – I (Maucune, with his own division plus Treillard’s cavalry) marches to Almeida to support Clauzel.

 [Intelligence step -

• no scouting orders]

Supplies and Demoralisation

All units are in supply. No-one is Demoralised.

Contacts

(1) On Thursday 28^th May, Clauzel, whose force is blockading the border fortress of Almeida, is surprised to be attacked from the north by Wellington himself. Clauzel, who has 7500 men, is driven into a position which is within range of some of the guns on the walls of Almeida itself. He has Wellington (12300 men) to the North, Almeida itself to the East, and Karl von Alten (with 4900 men of the Allied Light Division) marching towards him from the South West. Maucune, with a further 7500 men, has been sent to reinforce Clauzel, but will not arrive until a dice roll of 6 on or after turn 5,  at which point the reinforcements will be called onto the field as the Command Cards permit, with Leaders attached to units. This action is to be known to history as the Battle of Almeida.

 (2) Marmont, with a force of approx 17000 men, attacks the combined forces of Graham (with 7500 men) and De Espana (with what is believed to be 5900 regular Spanish troops) on the Northern border of Portugal, south of Orense. The Allies have a strong position in rugged country surrounding the hamlet of Balsa, near Vilaverde. The French advanced guard are in contact with Allied pickets early in the morning of Saturday 30^th May. [The required dice roll for co-operation level allows the Spanish troops to integrate fully with Graham’s men]

Engineering at Ciudad Rodrigo

Each battalion present with the garrison roll 1D6 each week, giving 4D6 – every 6 rolled adds 1 to the Fortress Value, which has been reduced from an initial 6 to 1 by the siege.  This week, the dice come up 6 5 4 2, so the Fortress Value becomes 2. Keep digging, messieurs!

Prize Giveaway at "Don't Throw a 1"

Congratulations to Ray at one of my favourite blogs, Don't Throw a 1, where he has reached 250,000 hits. To celebrate this, he is offering a giveaway prize of some painting, which is certainly worth checking out, so go and have a look at once!

White Mountain - 30 Years War Rules

Just a quickie (matron). This may all be well-known, but it is new to me. I came across a hex-&-command-card game for the 30 Years War (and, by implication, the English Civil War) called White Mountain. This is available for free download from Anubis Studios. It is very obviously a close relative of Commands & Colors, and appears to be played on a CCA board. The download includes rules (4 pages), QuickRef, text explanations of the cards (you have to make your own) and some pretty snazzy looking stickers to put on wooden blocks.

I had a quick squint last night - a little more of the philosophy behind the game would have helped, but there may be some of that on Anubis' pleasantly wacky website. At first glance, there are a number of interesting features in the game - units accumulate "disruption" points as well as losses, direction of facing is used to identify flank and rear attacks, command appears to be only at unit level. Some of it looks pretty clever, though it is possible that some of the simple elegance (elegant simplicity?) of C&C has been lost among the bells and whistles. The move sequence, for example, includes a number of options which I was still thinking about when I dozed off last night.

This has not compromised my devotion to Victory without Quarter, I hasten to add, but it is free(!), and may give an appetizer for Richard Borg's mooted prototype ECW Commands & Colors game, which I am definitely watching out for.

Having got a few decks clear, I hope to start painting my first ECW units this coming weekend, so am looking forward to that. A couple of fairly generic units of foot to start - one of Royalist blewcoats and some whitecoat Parliamentarians, I think. I have bought in a small stock of florist's wire for cheapo pikes, but I hear a rumour that they also make brown florist's wire, so am looking around for that. Painting wire is not hard, but it's dead boring.

Anyway - thought I'd mention White Mountain.

Hooptedoodle #56 - Levi

I’ve finished the Magnetic Sabots project, and hope to write up the Solo Campaign notes for Wellington’s last two weeks in charge in a day or two. Today’s more-than-usually-pointless Hooptedoodle is just a yarn – something I’ve been thinking about this week.

It’s probably a time-of-life thing. Sometimes I remember someone, or some event, that I haven’t thought about in many years. Mostly my recollection is crystal clear, but increasingly I find that it seems like some of the things actually happened to someone else or – occasionally – they seem so improbable that I wonder whether maybe I just read about them or dreamed them up. Tales from a bygone age.

A couple of weeks ago I did a stand-in job with a jazz group, and was delighted to meet up with my old mate Finn the piano player. We chatted about this and that, and then he said, “Did you know Levi died?”.

Wow. Levi – hadn’t thought about him for ages, yet for a short period of my youth he was the person I hated most in the whole world.

The first time I got married, both my wife and I were 22. I was a year out of university, an actuarial student, and she had a decent job in a bank. We had both had more than enough of student squats and shared bed-sits, and we rented a lovely little basement flat in a Georgian property in Edinburgh’s West End. It was more than we could strictly afford, but we felt that the comfortable surroundings would ease the shock of being newly-wed.

Levi was our landlord – he lived upstairs. I first met him when I went to sign the lease. My recollection is of a grey man – grey hair, grey face, grey suit, grey tie – in (probably) early middle age. He showed me into his sitting room, which was immediately above the flat and actually occupied the same area as the entire flat. You could have had a reasonable game of football in there, with spectators. It was furnished with exquisite taste – the whole place looked like something out of a lifestyle magazine. Levi himself was not very impressive, but he spoke like Earl Mountbatten. He lived with his mother – a surprisingly jovial, astoundingly Glaswegian lady whom we only saw once in the 2 years we lived there. We used to make up mysterious tales about how she was kept in a cupboard downstairs – certainly she was not much in evidence.

We called him Mr Toad, because he looked and dressed rather like the character from The Wind in the Willows. Levi would tell me elaborate stories about the people he knew and did deals with. He described himself, with practised vagueness, as “a sort of property developer, and a would-be patron of the arts”. He used to say things like, “Of course, I’m very friendly with the Steiners...”, which impressed me not at all since I had never heard of them, nor any of the other names he dropped.

The problem was that we only had the front half of the basement. Our half and his half were connected by a locked door, for which he had the only key. I installed my future wife in the flat in May, and I was to join her there after we were married in October. Immediately, I started getting panicky phone calls – someone had been in the flat, tidying up her clothes. Someone had walked through our flat and left through our front door, at 1am. Levi phoned me, too, to express his displeasure over the fact that my intended had moved a vase from the desk to the dresser – he had moved it back.

I went to see him, and said that the reason we paid him rent was because we were depriving him of the use of part of his property, so I would be obliged if he would stay out of the place. I told him that I intended to fit a bolt on my side of the connecting door, and henceforth it would only be opened by agreement between us. He went crazy. For a few minutes, he ceased being a grey man and became an extremely crimson man.

If I read the lease, he said, I would find that he was entitled to all reasonable access, and in any case the official fire-escape route for his basement passed through the flat, so this was a legal matter. What he didn’t say, of course, was that he paid considerably less in council rates since the flat was not actually separate, and no tax at all since the flat did not exist as a rentable entity. A couple of nights later, he showed some dinner guests and some people from a catering company out through our flat at about midnight, and I phoned the police the next day. The police said this was just a disagreement between a landlord and tenant, and they didn’t wish to become involved. I said my wife was frightened to be in the flat alone. That did it.

The police were round to see him next day, and then came to brief me. They gave me some useful ideas about things I could say to him which might carry some weight. So I rehearsed a bit, and I went to see him, and told him that it would be a most awful thing if I came across him or some of his guests in my flat one night, failed to recognise them and caused them serious bodily harm – of which I was quite capable.

We had no further trouble with the connecting door. Levi and I exchanged very few words during the two years before we left to buy a place of our own. I occasionally saw him in his big picture window, glaring at me as I came and went. I still imagine him like that – a grey man with the light behind him. He must have lived to a good age. Apparently he was still alone when he died.