Napoleonic & ECW wargaming, with a load of old Hooptedoodle on this & that


Tuesday, 5 July 2016

Hooptedoodle #225 – The Joy of Private Euphemisms

A couple of lempules?
Long ago, when we were kids, my cousin Dave and I used to amuse ourselves by inventing our own words for things; I’m sure that most children do this. Apart from the thrill of being able to persuade ourselves that we were operating in an excitingly secretive manner – like spies, with coded messages, Dave would claim – it was interesting to study the reactions of people who were not privy to our silly little game. Dave was much better at it than I was – he gained lasting fame at his school when he was given a detention for calling one of the prefects a lempule. As far as I am aware, this particular effort has no accepted meaning at all, unlike some of his less successful inventions, but the prefect took exception to it and punished him. Since he could not bring himself to write (or spell?) the dreadful word – maybe scared that somehow he would be tainted forever by association – the prefect simply wrote in the detention book, “Insolent behaviour and abusive language”. It’s easy, isn’t it? – there are situations in which, whatever you do, it will be interpreted in the worst way possible. People will hurt their own feelings to save you the trouble. This particular lempule, by the way, went on to become Bishop of Dunwich, which just goes to prove something or other.

Some of our private vocabulary, I regret to say, accidentally turned out already to exist in the sensible world, occasionally with unfortunate consequences, and one or two of our alternative terms of abuse (such as a favourite of mine, twonker) I find are now in fairly general use. I don’t think we can claim copyright or anything – personally, I blame the Internet. We used to come up with new words – especially descriptions of people we disliked, and we would work on them – perfect them, gradually and with great precision, until they were just right – and we would laugh until we ached.

My family, and a few of my former workmates, have made extensive use over the years of “That’s nice”, as a euphemism for the worst, most contemptuous put-down imagineable. This is the art in it’s highest form; the future bishop must have realised that the description of him was not intended to be favourable – the context and (probably) the construction make it obvious. It is interesting to surmise that he maybe just assumed the word was a reference to some personal shortcoming of which he was already aware. On the other hand, no one is going to take offence at a mere, limp pleasantry, which is harmless enough, if a little soppy (or fembrous, as Dave and I used to say).

Fembrous
In an idle sort of way, I wondered if anyone has any favourite family or personal euphemisms of this type which they have found useful? The trick is to have an armoury of words which sound harmless, but which are full of wicked intent in the ears of those who know. I’m always on the lookout for good ones.


Late Edit...

It's off-topic, but the idea of meaningless words reminds me of of one my greatest personal heroes...


Ah yes - basic Engly Twenty Fido - remarkibold!




Friday, 1 July 2016

A Useful Bit of Nostalgia


A couple of weeks ago I bought this on eBay. It was just a whimsical rush of blood to the nostalgia gland, I guess, but I used to have one of these when I was a lad.

I hasten to add that the item was already pretty old when I had it. A great many of my boyhood outings to football matches and motor races, cycling trips and journeys to Preston with Cousin Dave to spot Ribble buses involved one of these - ideal for carrying a plastic mac, a package of pilchard sandwiches (in red, gingham greaseproof paper, borrowed from a sliced loaf), and a map in the front pocket.

It is, of course, a Mark VII gas-mask bag, dating from 1942, as issued to civilians (and the Home Guard, I think). The ones for sale on eBay are original, but new (if that makes sense), stored since the war, just in case. Oh no - it didn't come with a gas-mask - that would be silly.


If it's a fake, please don't bother to tell me - I'm quite happy with it. Apart from a pleasing nostalgia value and a kind of lowbrow utilitarian appeal, it will be a useful conversation piece if we now get endless re-runs of Dad's Army on British TV.

Anyway - there you go - it doesn't take a lot to make me happy. I'll have to see if I can get pilchards online.


Completely Separate Topic

I was intrigued by this picture from the 1920s of a social day out for a local branch of the Klu Klux Klan. It may be a fake - I have no idea, but it is an image which will stay with me for a while...


Wednesday, 29 June 2016

Hooptedoodle #224 - Donkey Award - The Donkey


Guido Fawkes is most famous for failing to do whatever it was he was planning to do back in 1605 (there is still some debate about just what he and his chums intended), but it is pretty certain that if he had succeeded he would have had the sense and the good taste to refrain from turning up at Westminster a few days later to gloat.

I was determined to avoid a rant about Europe – it’s a fait accompli now (foreign expression meaning “done deal”), so we must make the best of it. However, this Farage chappie takes the biscuit (foreign-derived word meaning “cookie”). Having had the effrontery to turn up in Brussels yesterday (a rare enough event – he has the second-lowest attendance record of all active MEPs), this sneering, shape-shifting hypocrite saw fit to accuse his colleagues in the European Parliament of never having had real jobs. I am aware that he was once a commodities trader, but I understand that of late he has mostly been a professional politician – certainly since 1999.

It would be interesting to know, in light of his minimal commitment and his constant hostility to the institution, just who has paid for his involvement in the European Parliament, how much he has pocketed and what we have all gained from the experience – apart from a lot of collective embarrassment, and the polishing of the ultimate, nightmare English stereotype, to our eternal glory.



Perhaps he could give us all a break now, and disappear into deserved obscurity? – or maybe he could appear on top of the odd bonfire from time to time?


Tuesday, 28 June 2016

Testing Day - some gratuitous photos

After Goya and his Austrians had gone home on Saturday, it occurred to me that I should keep the boards out, and set up some soldiers for some rule testing.


The particular things I'm testing at the moment are the continuing prototype of my "brigade activation" tweak, which enables groups of units to be ordered at one go, and the use of bodies of converged light infantry/voltigeurs as Commands & Colors-style light infantry (i.e. a representation of skirmish-order troops in a grand tactical game format).

I set up a couple of armies - far too many soldiers for the table (I had intended to add the table extension, but the extra folding support table turned out to be unavailable) - but it looked so good that I took some pictures. There's no battle narrative, or anything - the playing I did subsequently was just a series of situations to see how the rules work.

When I was in Bath recently I was asked how many Napoleonic soldiers I have and - of course - I have no idea at all. This is probably explained by my lack of focus rather than any suggestion that the number is very large. On Saturday, the conversation briefly turned to how big a battle I could stage, given the space and a big enough table - again, I had to admit that I didn't know, though I do know that I have 60-odd French battalions, if you include the Confederation chaps, the Italians, King Joseph's Spaniards and all that. It got me thinking - it might be worthwhile to set something up sometime - even if it just proves it can't be done, it might be fun finding out! It would require some joinery work and a lot of painting, and I'd have to borrow one of the farm's sheds - hmmm....

So - no story line here - no excuse for the self-indulgent pictures. Ian mentioned that he rarely saw my Brits these days, so there are some here. This set up (on the standard size, 13 x 9 hex C&C table) involves 2 divisions of French, attacking one-division-plus-an-extra-brigade of Brits. I think I have 6 French infantry divisions in total, so that gives some idea of the potential scale of a bigger, wider battle. I'll think about it. If you like this sort of thing, you can play spot-the-figure-manufacturer - nothing very exotic, I think.

The testing? - oh yes - still some more work needed - especially for the skirmishers...

French attacking from the right - 1st and 2nd Divisions of the Armée
de Portugal, circa May 1812


Here are some Brits - Wheatley's Brigade of 1st Division

...and some welcome European immigrants - Von Löwe's KGL brigade, with
Colin Halkett's German Light Brigade beyond...

...and two enormous battalions of Foot Guards on the left, with the heavy
cavalry - yes - that is the Scots Greys on the end, casually dropped in from Ireland for
the day

Some of the converged skirmish units - here are some companies of the 5/60th Rifles in a village

...and the opposition - combined voltigeurs of Barbot's brigade of the French 2nd Division

The stream in the foreground was last seen some 160 years earlier, near Sunderland!

Mostly Garrisons and Les Higgins, I think - note the coloured cubes to denote the brigade structure

These are just different views of the same situation - note the plastic kitchen
utensil - a spatula - an invaluable device for handling troops on sabots; by
the way, following Brexit the sabots will be officially termed "clogs" - one
advantage is that my pal Grammaticus can probably pronounce this





Sunday, 26 June 2016

The Defence of Bassaro, December 1813


Yesterday I had a visitor here at the Chateau. My good friend Goya came, to give his Austrian army a first run out, and we took the opportunity to try the Commands & Colors Expansion #5, Generals, Marshals and Tacticians, with its amended set of Command cards, which has been sitting undisturbed since it arrived some months ago.

I have never been involved in a miniatures game involving Austrians at any time since I started wargaming 200 years ago, so I put a lot of thought into drawing up a scenario, such as would grace the auspicious occasion. Since the Austrian force, though growing quickly, is still rather small for one side of a C&CN game, we chose a format where the Kaiserlichs would be defending a strong position against a considerably larger French force, and we chose Eugène Beauharnais’ campaign in Northern Italy in 1813-14. This is suitable for Goya’s late-war uniforms, and it meant that we could use my Spanish/Italian buildings without too much embarrassment.


Research revealed that, apart from Dr GF Nafziger’s invaluable volume on this campaign, there is almost nothing in the English-language history books. David Chandler glides seamlessly from Leipzig/Hanau to Brienne, F Loraine Petre includes a single paragraph (to the effect that Eugène was pretty much banished to the Army of Italy because the Emperor had “had enough of his stepson’s incapacity”), and the Elting & Esposito atlas has an arrow pointing off the main map of 1813, indicating that Eugène was over here somewhere, facing the Austrians. The reason? – quite simple; neither Napoleon nor Wellington was present, so who could be interested?

I found some Austrian sources in Google Books, but overall was surprised at the paucity of material. I finished up with an action at the mythical village of Bassaro, not far from Ferrara (or possibly somewhere else), which apparently commanded a couple of important crossings over the River Adige. The timing, the location and the personnel are not dissimilar to the action around Castagnaro, so there is a rough whiff of authenticity about some of what we were doing. Thank you, yet again, Dr Nafziger.

So Goya’s Austrians were installed in Bassaro and its environs – there were some very important-looking generals present, one of whom had a passing resemblance to Archduke Charles, but they were there only as observers – the Austrian commander on the field was Generalmajor Sutterheim, assisted by Generals Stahremberg, Eckhardt and Wrede (no – not the Bavarian). They had available the 9th Jäger Regt, the Gradiscaner Grenzer Regt, the infantry regiments Kerpen, Bianchi and Jellachich, the Grenadier battalions Purcell and Welsperg and two 6pdr foot batteries, supported by the Radetzky Hussars and the Dragoon regiments Savoy and Hohenlohe – that’s a total of 7 battalions (two of which were light infantry), 3 cavalry units and 2 artillery.

Austrians have a few national characteristics in C&CN. The line infantry battalions are big – 5 blocks – and  have the unique ability to adopt a solid square formation (Bataillonmasse) against cavalry, which behaves like a normal square as far as the rules are concerned, but does not require a Command card to be held hostage on the Square Tracker. The line infantry and the Grenzers suffer double retreats if things go against them, otherwise things are pretty much standard C&CN – troops firing on the move have the half-effect rounded down, and there are the usual advantages for light troops and grenadiers.

Their opposition for the day came from the Division of General Marcognet, who had the French infantry brigades of De Conchy and Jeanin (both names familiar to me, as these were distinguished battalion commanders from the Peninsula) and the Italian brigade of St Paul (another old friend), with, between them, a total of 14 battalions, of which 4 were lights, and there was also a cavalry brigade comprising 2 French regiments of Chasseurs à Cheval and some Italian dragoons, and an Italian foot battery and a French horse battery.

I, of course, was Marcognet, since it was only right that Goya should command his shiny new army. Scenario specifics were that each commander had 5 Command cards and an initial hand of 3 Tactician cards, and that 7 Victory Points would decide the day. There were extra VPs available to the French for each village hex they occupied, and for each of the bridge and the 2 fords which they held. If things became too difficult to hold the position, the Austrians’ only retreat was over the river by this same bridge or the fords (the river being otherwise out of bounds), and they could reduce the French VP holding by 1 for every 2 units or leaders they retreated off the table – such units and leaders could not return, but they would not count as VPs for the French. The only other rule of the day was that any unit which spent an entire move on the road – starting and ending their move upon it, and not involved in any combat – could have an extra hex of movement. In the event neither the road nor the extra VP rules came into play.

To set up, the Austrian commander could place his units anywhere in his half of the table (including the centre line). Having seen the initial defensive position, the French commander could place his entire army within 3 hexes of his baseline – for both armies, leaders could be placed with units if desired. Thereafter, the Austrians could move 3 units or leaders, the French could then move 2, and – finally – the Austrians could move 1 – still restricted to their own half. At that point, we dealt the cards, and the French started the first turn.

My plan, such as it was, given my big superiority in infantry and the cover provided by the central ridge, was to march my main force over the ridge in as much mass as I could manage, overrun the batteries, punch through to the west (my left) of the village and attack the fords. Meanwhile, the French light infantry would advance through the woods to demonstrate against the bridge. The Italians and the cavalry were in reserve on my left, the intention being that they would pile into the attack on the fords as support for the main attack.

The tricky bit was making the extra numbers pay off before I lost enough troops to fulfill the Austrian victory requirements. It was obviously going to be messy, but it seemed possible.  A quick mass advance in the centre, shielded from artillery by the ridge, started things off well, but after that it got progressively more disastrous.

First thing is, these big Austrian line battalions have a lot of firepower, and the double retreats never counted for anything, since I didn’t manage to dislodge anybody. Beyond that difficulty, it’s all down to me. The advance in the centre was delayed by lack of suitable cards, true, but also because I had been too cautious with the deployment of my general officers – if I had been braver, and attached them to the leading units, a couple of cards turned up which would have used their presence to speed up my attack. I also made a mess of the placement of my light infantry, so that the attack through the woods made very little progress – I wasted a lot of time trying to pull battered units out of the way so that they could be replaced by fresh ones, and it all took too long – the bridge was never threatened. When the main attack did reach the central ridge it was disjointed and had little cohesion, the Austrian infantry were ready and used bonus cards well to maximise their fire effect.

Elsewhere – on my left – the Italians were a poor relation, since I could never spare enough orders to get them properly involved. My cavalry was outmatched by the Austrian heavies (my Italian dragoons melted away like snowballs in Hades) and, as a result of a stupid miscalculation of move distances for the cavalry, an otherwise inspired pincer attack with my mounted troops failed dismally and also cost me the Italian artillery. Drat.

In the end, I just ran out of men – the Austrians achieved their 7 VPs and the day was lost – I still had enough troops left to threaten the village, but it had all been too slow, and I had not managed to hold the line together well enough for the units to provide the mutual support which is necessary to stop them falling back.

A most enjoyable day – my compliments and thanks to my noble opponent, not least for driving an hour and a half out here to the Front of Beyond with his precious troops. After a fairly slow start we did, in fact, get the bloodbath I feared we might. The lesson was familiar, but clear – attacking in Commands & Colors is a challenge, especially if you are timid with your positioning of leaders, and if the cards refuse to co-operate with your Grand Scheme.

Great fun!

The battlefield, viewed from the northern (Austrian) side - the village of Bassaro
nestles in a bend of the River Adige - the fords can be seen on the table edge

Things get under way - French on the left, Austrian Jägers in the woods near the bridge 

French left - the cavalry promised little and delivered less, though the brigadier
led a charmed life, and they managed to leave the Italian battery exposed with predictable results

Sutterheim sorts out his defence

Marcognet makes heavy weather of his advance at the far end, while the
Italians and the cavalry wait for their moment at this end

As the Command cards played out, a couple of general officers with the French advance
would really have got things going much quicker - oh well...

Stirring sight - the Austrian cavalry performed excellently, including a couple
of successful bonus (follow-up) melées which did a lot of damage [please
ignore any Spanish unit titles on the borrowed sabots]

Grenzers in the woods - they had a fine view of the cavalry proceedings, but
otherwise were not called upon to do very much

At this point, Marcognet's attack was already going badly - the single unit on the
ridge should have been four units all supporting each other - there will be questions asked...

This was as far as the attack through the woods got - too late, and the Austrians
(noted for their famous bridge balancing act) had organised enough firepower to
prevent anyone emerging from the trees

This looks like a lot of troops, but the boys with all the casualty markers are being withdrawn

This photo captures a point at which the main, central attack has started to fizzle out,
and the cavalry scrap is about to start

...and here it begins, with the French horse outmatched and in any case unable to combine properly

So much for the cavalry - Marcognet has one last push in the centre...

...but the Kaiserlichs are ready, and Victory Points are mounting up!

Another view of the end of the day