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


Friday, 20 March 2020

Preparations for the Lock Down

We await further announcements and restrictions at any moment - at present there is a feeling of "Phoney War" here, which in itself is ominous. This is a very rural area, and things are pretty much unaffected so far, apart from the pubs and the cafes being shut down, and the schools. There is a great shortage of groceries, of course, and I am now not allowed to visit my mother in the local care home.

So far this week I have cancelled a visit to the dental hygienist and the chiropractor, but I did go for what could be my last ever haircut!

Since I am an old chap, and my youngest son is still at school (until tonight, I think - he attends a school across the border, in Northumberland, otherwise he would already have been at home for a week), I am required to self-isolate. Interesting - we are not yet under full plague conditions, but it seems only a matter of time until such isolation will be a matter of legislation. Whatever, we decided we should have a go at this - at worst I should develop a few good habits, and see what it involves. I have moved into the attic here at Chateau Foy - there is a decent bedroom, and another room, officially titled the Dressing Room, which will serve me as a working and reading area - I have now installed a proper writing desk up there, for working and soldier-painting. I may have a lot of time on my hands, so I'll shift my activities upstairs as far as possible - let's see how this develops.



The desk is not much of a beauty, but it's solid, has a good working surface and plenty of storage for my paints and knick-knacks. It's carved oak, and I understand it dates from the 1930s.

Last night I watched one of my French DVDs up here - I've seen it before, but it's a goody. L'Homme du Train, starring Jean Rochefort and Johnny Hallyday. The film is supposed to be wryly comedic, I think, but its dominant theme seems to be failure, and the complicated pointlessness of life in general. Recommended for all that. One thing that seemed very odd - and it shows what a deep impression the COVID-19 publicity has made - was all the embracing and hand-shaking that goes on in the film - I kept thinking, "That's not a very good idea...", and then I would give myself a gentle slap (having washed my hands first, of course).


Anyway, I enjoyed it - thought-provoking.

I've received my WSS mounted colonels back from a re-paint after the varnish went horribly wrong last time, and they look very good, so I'll get them finished off and they can join their regiments - that will give me a first painting task for the new station up here in the roof!

A strange time. An exchange of emails with a friend produced some dark thoughts, wondering which of our friends and contemporaries might not make it through what is to come, but I prefer not to dwell on that. Things in the cities must be far worse, of course. Unusually, two apparent suicides near here yesterday - someone walked under a train at Prestonpans, and an Edinburgh restaurateur has gone missing - he may have jumped off the cliffs into the sea here - the Police are looking for him. That does bring it home - a lot of people must be in a desperate situation.

I can only wish everyone all the best, and hope that the situation becomes clearer. One thing I really don't know, for example, is how long it takes for an unknown package to cease being potentially infectious. I read somewhere that the virus in water droplets will only live for 12 hours without a new host, but I have no idea whether that is true. My parcel of WSS officers arrived this morning - I had a feeling I should leave it for a day before I opened it - in the end I opened it and washed my hands thoroughly, binning the packaging.

That's the sort of thing that would be helpful to know. If we don't get official information, the dreaded social media will come up with something more exciting - recent scares about the potentially lethal hazards of ibuprofen were fake news, apparently. There's a good opportunity for people to behave sensibly for a change - that would be useful.




Sunday, 15 March 2020

Sieges: The Doofer and the Scale Paradox

It would be fatuous - probably even very irritating - to come up with some kind of useful personal spin-off from the current corona-virus situation, but it is a fact that, since quite a lot of things that I had planned to do are not going to be possible, then I am going to be forced to do something else instead. In the interests of preserving the tiny, ragged edges of what is left of my sanity I have an enforced opportunity to revisit things which have been shelved or passed over, and there will be any amount of time (if, of course, I am spared) to think about stuff.

Therefore it cannot be a complete coincidence that today's post returns to what used to be a tradition on this blog a few years ago - I shall begin with a lengthy digression. I, at least, will probably enjoy it, and it serves a useful secondary purpose in filtering out any unfortunate readers who arrived here by accident, and who are beginning to see what a huge mistake that was.


I always assumed that "a doofer" was just a saying used in my own family. My grandmother (the one from Preston) used the phrase to refer to any object whose real name she had forgotten, or simply didn't know. There was also a faint edge of intolerance in there - in my grandmother's world, which mostly was built around Dickens, Mozart, cats and Rich Tea biscuits, anything which had overtones of technology was an overhead - the sort of thing that some (common) technical person would know about. Thus, though the thing itself might be useful, the idea of actually understanding it was well beneath contempt. She had a doofer with which she lit the gas stove, and doofers which secured the stair carpet. Her life was filled with them.

Stove-lighting Doofer



Stair-carpet Doofers

Her brother, Alf, worked for many years in the tram (later bus) workshops at Edge Lane, Liverpool, and he also spoke of doofers. Originally, I believe, the term may come from the army - possibly WW1 - to describe something which was improvised, or fixed, or botched, and which would "do for now". [I checked my etymological dictionary, since that is the sort of thing for which I now have more time, and I see that the likely origins of doofer are pretty much as I thought, though the date is felt to be 1930s. That would surprise me if it were true, since Great Uncle Alf would never have adopted any phrase which appeared as late as the 1930s. Yes, this was a digression within a digression - we have nested digressions].


Gradually this evolved into a general term for something whose proper name you didn't know, and I am surprised at how widespread this became. It is bound to be out of fashion now, of course, but I recall that as my grandmother became older and more dotty there were more and more doofers around the place. In more recent years, my mother started calling almost everything "the thing-io"; it is a great comfort to be able to forget the real names of everyday objects - I can see this.

What were we talking about, again?

Oh yes - doofers. Well, you will be excited to read that I have taken delivery of a new doofer - it arrived on Saturday. I have been waiting for this doofer for nearly two years, and to be more accurate it is a prototype doofer.

Some time ago I commissioned the manufacture of some rather similar doofers for my medieval/ECW sieges. They worked well - they were, to be specific about it, firing platforms which could be stood behind fortress walls, to give standing room for guns or bodies of musketeers. I got my friend Michael at SLD to design and laser-cut them from MDF, enhanced a little with masonry-style engraving, and I made them up and painted and matt-varnished them, and they were good. They were doofers to help with problems arising from the eternal Scale Paradox in tabletop wargames (which, for reasons which I shall attempt to explain, reach their zenith in the arcane world of miniature sieges). At the time, I was also very surprised at the amount of criticism they generated.

Doofer to facilitate sieges on Medieval Walls - shades of "2001: Space Odyssey"?
And in action - a bit crude, but effective
The problem is, you see, that if you had attended a real medieval or Renaissance siege with your digital camera handy, you would not have seen any of my doofers in action. They are not part of the model-railway-style facsimile of a real siege, and quite a few readers reacted badly to this. I called them "gun platforms" or sometimes "buttresses", but really they were just add-on doofers to solve a problem arising from the Scale Paradox.

Before I get buried even further in this effort, let me insert a spoiler here, to explain that the new doofer I have received is a prototype of the same sort of device, but designed to work with Vauban-period walls. After adding the first-generation doofers to my ECW sieges, I realised that progress with my 18th-19th Century sieges would require the Mark II Siege Doofer. The walkways behind the parapets on my model Vauban walls are only 30mm wide, which is not nearly enough to mount a gun up there, without some form of extra support. I shall, I promise, come back to this after I have burbled on about the Scale Paradox for a bit. If you are still with me, you have my heartfelt admiration and gratitude.

My games usually take place on a hex-gridded table, which I have found helps greatly and keeps things simple. There is still an implied groundscale - my hexes are 7 inches across the flats, which is near enough 180mm. My default horizontal scale is (approx) 1mm = 1 yard/metre. This obviously varies for big battles scaled down, but that default is (approx) 200 paces = 1 hex, which is a useful round number.

I use 20mm or 1/72 scale soldiers, and for infantry and cavalry I use an age-old ratio of 3 figures = 100 men, so that my battalions normally have about 2 dozen men. The basing is designed to give frontages compatible with the 1/1000 groundscale, and it also tries to make the spacing of the miniature soldiers look about right for the kind of troops and the kind of warfare they represent. [Though please try to remember, Claude, that this is not the same as visual "realism" - a 24-man battalion is not at all realistic, however much the photos out of Charles Grant and Don Featherstone have come to shape our understanding].

Just to be awkward - another personal compromise - I have yet another scale on the go at the same time. My buildings are usually 15mm scale, which is about 1/100 - this is similar to the old TT model railway scale. The underscale buildings have a few advantages - they are cheaper, they have a smaller footprint, and they can be grouped into what seem to me to be more convincing villages. You can also, with time, get used to the look of the thing - the fact that a soldier would get stuck in the door of the church is a relatively unimportant matter when you are fighting Leipzig. I work on the assumption that a smallish village is marked by a representative cluster of slightly undersized houses - they are usually placed around the edges of a hex, so that a unit may be placed among them, and the houses themselves can be shunted about as necessary to make room for what is going on - the individual model buildings do not represent real individual buildings, and you can't take roofs off or put people inside. In the games I play, that is not necessary or useful. The important things about a village are its outline (and in a hex-based game that is an obvious concept, though non-hex players will still have a requirement to define the edges of the built-up area) and who is in it.

Anyway, you get the idea. On occasions I may choose to use 20mm-scale walls and hedges for my soldiers to stand behind, just for the look of the thing, but by and large this odd mish-mash of scales is now tried and tested and works well. Let's remind ourselves, that's

* 1/1000 horizontal scale, for ranges, moves, frontages, table layout.
* 1/72 (visual) vertical scale for the model soldiers - which is a given.
* 1/100  vertical scale for the buildings - which is simply a convenient compromise.

Now then. When we consider sieges this suddenly becomes more of a problem. The layout of a fort is not just a matter of appearance or convention - the lengths of the walls, the positioning and dimensions of the bastions and so on are set by rules which relate to the effective range of a musket (or whatever), and a representative model is no longer going to be fit for purpose unless it has about the right footprint. We now bump our noses quite firmly against the "look of the thing" problem - we can use 15mm buildings if we wish, but the big issue here is the Scale Paradox - our toy soldiers live in a world where a man is about 22mm tall, but the distances and the ground plan require a world where 1mm is 1 metre (or 2mm = 1 toise, if you insist). There - did you feel that bump on your nose? That's because the groundscale is one tenth of the visual scale. It always was, but it just became a problem.

For reasons which I really don't understand - I can only assume that the model designers had been through all this same reasoning before - the old Terrain Warehouse 15mm Vauban pieces that I use look OK with the soldiers, but the footprint of the various bits also makes sense in the groundscale I use. So it works in both senses (though obviously this must be a pretty silly-looking fort from the point of view of proportions, but it is silly in the same way as the soldiers themselves, so maybe that's what matters).

I've now reminded myself (again) that I don't really understand why this works, but it does. Further, it may not actually work at all - it might just be that I think it does. There you go - full circle - you set your games up to suit you, and I'll suit myself. That's probably where we came in. Before I finally put this note out of its misery, here's some photos of the new doofer. Since I am pleased that it is what I designed, that it works and is what I wanted, I shall get Michael to make me some more, and I'll make them up and store them away in the Sieges boxes. 

The new prototype Mk II Siege Doofer - assembled, painted and varnished
In position on the Terrain Warehouse 15mm scale Vauban wall

And here demonstrating how some big French guns may be deployed





Thursday, 12 March 2020

Hooptedoodle #357a - The Third World (contd)

Maybe this is a more general problem - here's the trailer for another of my very favourite films (if you've never seen this, I recommend it) - a French postal worker is traumatised by learning that he is to be transferred to Le Nord....


This movie, by the way, is the biggest laugh ever...

Wednesday, 11 March 2020

Hooptedoodle #357 - The Third World

A couple of days ago I was listening to BBC Radio 3 at breakfast time, as is my current routine; there is a show where listeners may text in suggestions for music selections. The host of the show (I suspect that on R3 they may still be "announcers") at one point said (announced?),

"I have received a text from Theresa, who is in Burnley, up there in Lancashire - Theresa would like to hear some Scarlatti..."

OK - no problem - there are probably a lot of people who don't know where Burnley is - or Lancashire, for that matter.

A few minutes later, the link was,

"I have a nice message from Tom, who is in Streatham, and today Tom is busy doing his accounts..."

She didn't say, "...Streatham, which is in South London...", presumably because everyone is expected to know where Streatham is. Funny that. It doesn't bother me in the slightest, but there is something a little retro about the episode. This is a national radio station, bear in mind. Faint echoes of Two-Way Family Favourites on Sundays on the BBC Light Programme, back in the 1960s. If Gunner Arkwright's family come from Rawtenstall, make sure that we mention that this is a long way from the Centre of Things - it's company policy.

There was no offence intended, obviously, but it is still an instinct on national radio - some gentle apology needed for reference to the Provinces (though, of course, there are a lot of new Tory MPs up there now, which must make a difference, you would think). Some reflected glory in demonstrating that the BBC is able to transmit to (and even has some kind of an audience in) the far-flung reaches of our Sceptred Isle.

Anyway, I had a laugh at it, and there is no harm done, but it reminded me of this clip, which I still find hilarious - apologies for the poor picture definition - best I could find.

Wednesday, 4 March 2020

WSS Project - Some Dismounted Dragoons

Today I finished off some dismounted dragoons - the system is to be that my dragoon units will each be of 3 bases of mounted men, with 2 extra bases of dismounted. When the unit is ordered to dismount (which takes a complete turn), two of the mounted bases are replaced by dismounted; the remaining mounted base (which ideally should be the one with the minidice giving current strength!) represents horseholders and all that clobber.

Bavarian Dragoons - this is the Regt Monasterol - the new Irregular chaps at the front are here shown with their mounted Higgins colleagues.
The dismounted castings here are 20mm Irregular Miniatures, which are unusually small 20mm but give a good size match with Les Higgins.

The boys from the Regt Santini are the same, apart from the green facings - their mounted contingent are progressing through the paint queue at this very moment
The history of Les Higgins/PMD is well described elsewhere; the original 20mm Malburian figures are just a tad smaller than their ECW range (though the original "subscription series" Higgins ECW were about the same size as the Malburians), but both ranges use the same horses. The figures are too small to match with much else - Irregular, Lancer Miniatures (which are relatively stout, though their artillery pieces are lovely) and that's about it.

Sunday, 1 March 2020

Painting - Good News and Bad News

Odd day yesterday. My most spectacular achievement was falling downstairs with a tray of freshly painted soldiers - fortunately, the only lasting damage seems to have been to the sensibilities of the Contesse, who was not impressed by my vocabulary.

I have now based up the Waterloo Life Guards - still one man absent, but now varnished and based. Very pleased with them.

Unit #334, Hinton Hunt Life Guards, with many thanks to Goya for his restoration and conversion work. These chaps were previously the spares from the ex-Eric Knowles Royal Horse Guards, and include the noted Trooper Lazarus, a write-off who was miraculously fixed back onto his base. I understand that we have located a recruit to fill the gap in the back row.
Less satisfactory was a shipment of mounted WSS officers which arrived back from the painter. Something very odd has happened here - it seems that the varnish has reacted with (and stuck to) the bubblewrap in which they were packed. This painter normally wraps each figure in tissue, which would have avoided the problem, but wisdom after the event is not helpful, and it's also irritating.

A varnishing act that went wrong. Warranty claim necessary. Ancient Les Higgins figures - not as old as the Life Guards, though
We've agreed that I'll send them back, and he'll sort things out, though it looks like a strip-and-start-again situation to me.

Other than that I spent a fascinating couple of hours yesterday with a neighbour, learning more about the history of the immediate area where I live. I'm particularly interested in a number of vanished local castles and tower houses, and also in the old farm-workers' hamlets of Whaupknowe (which means "Curlew Hill" in Scots, and appears to have been right where my house is now) and Muttonhole (which is only commemorated now by a field of the same name on an adjacent farm). These hamlets seem to have vanished around 1750. Looks like I'd better get the waterproof jacket and the old walking boots ready.

Saturday, 29 February 2020

Hooptedoodle #356 - Another Wasted Opportunity

Last night I was clearing out the spam folder in one of my secondary email accounts, and I came across this message...


I see this dates from 2016 - goodness me! - just think, I may have missed out on a fortune. It just reinforces some recurring theme I haven't quite put my finger on yet, along the lines that big changes in our lives and fortunes might, at any moment, hinge on some unseen stroke of luck, or a message from a stranger.

By an astonishing coincidence, this spam folder contained quite a lot of messages like this - all from different people. A superstitious person might believe that this was more than mere chance. Do you think that, in some mystical way, I might be blessed? Since I would rather not dwell on the possibility of having missed out on several fortunes over a relatively short period, I am thinking that maybe I should treat this seriously, and consider resuming my research into developing a foolproof algorithm for predicting Lottery numbers.

I mean, it makes sense, doesn't it?

I do wonder what happened to that money, though - and it was a shame that the man's daughter was killed like that. And his wife. Tragic.

Why don't we all email Mr Daamba, and wish him all the best?

No...?