Wednesday, March 31, 2004

ON THE TABLE

Just a brief note, as I polish a very pretentious piece called "Zen and the Art of Literary Criticism," where I show my relative ignorance in both lit crit and Eastern religion!

The Atlantic Monthly is usually worth the five bucks, and this month there's a special treat: Christopher Buckley is back with another zany caper in the world of that globetrotting PR exec--Rick Renard? What happened to Nick Naylor? The story references previous Nick Naylor stories...dunno. Those of you who have not discovered this, I heartily recommend the book that started it all, Thank You for Smoking. Great comedy...

CARD AIR-WARGAMES

Thinking about Wings of War got me thinking about how I'd make a easy-to-learn yet reasonably-detailed air-warfare game using cards, which of course brought me around eventually to the Down in Flames series from GMT, designed by Dan Verssen.

So far, there are only WWII scenarios (with brief excursions to the Spanish Civil War and the Israeli War for Independence with some optional cards available elsewhere). There was to be a WWI game, but that--for some reason--never quite came together.

In terms of variety, DiF can't be beat. Zero, the latest full-game installment, comes with well over twenty (maybe over thirty; it's been a while since I counted) different planes that took to the skies in the period between Pearl Harbor and Midway in the Pacific theater. Fighters, bombers, scout planes, the works. Altitude is present, but in pretty abstract but effective form: There are five altitude bands one can be in, and having an altitude advantage gives one benefits in dogfighting.

Dogfights themselves are pretty abstract affairs themselves, with the various turns represented by maneuver cards, but the planes stay in one place, but move one on a continuum from "Tailed" to "Tailing" compared to one's adversary. (Wings of War, to its credit, looks like it does a nice job visually of showing a dogfight in cinematic detail.)

Dogfights are easy to learn, and a quick one-off dogfight between two pairs of fighters (in Leader-Wingman combinations) take only a few minutes. The heart of the game are the campaigns, drawn from history. Each campaign lasts a number of missions (i.e., super-turns), each with a particular objective and resources allocated to it. You gain VPs for shooting down planes and fulfilling mission objectives, of course, and it is on these that victory hinges.

The DiF series, I think, is one of those "wargames for people who don't like wargames." It's not a traditional wargame, and abstracts a great deal to the point where much of the game feels very "Euro." Dan Verssen, at his best, manages to yoke non-wargamey systems to historical themes and objectives to make it all work; I think DiF does quite well in this regard.

WINGS OF WAR: PANGS OF DOUBT

So I'm something of a WWI nut, especially WWI aviation and tank development, so I'm quite intrigued by any new game on the topics--the most noteworthy new arrival being Wings of War from the Italian game company Nexus, distributed in the USA by Fantasy Flight.

A few notes from reading the rules and such I found on Boardgamegeek:

  • Five planes? Five lousy planes? Sure, each one comes in a few "variants" depending on which Ace is flying the thing (at least I assume they're different), but still. OK, and the second box set comes with another five. That's fifty-sixty bucks out the blowhole for a really pretty limited range of flying machines here...I'm willing to believe that I like variety more than the average bear, but c'mon--WWI saw a tremendous range of aircraft, with all kinds of things being tested. Take a look at Canvas Eagles, and scroll down. I worry about replayability here.
  • Also: Is there altitude in this game? It's not obvious to me that there is, and if there's not, then I think we have a problem. (I know the original Crimson Skies didn't have altitude, and it sold like hotcakes, but still.)
  • One thing I do like, reading the rules, is the three-moves-ahead maneuver planning. Another thing I don't get, though, is why there are turns (as such) at all. At the beginning of each turn, you choose three maneuver cards. Then everyone flips them over one at a time, fires at who can be fired at, and so on. (Kind of like RoboRally.) Then, after the third card, you wipe the slate clean and do another three cards. The odd thing about that setup is that it has variable reaction time, which I'm not sure is what the aim was. Why not have each phase be: Turn over a maneuver card, resolve firing, and add a new maneuver card to the bottom of the "to do" pile? That way, after the beginning turns of the game, every decision goes into effect three turns later, rather than one-to-three turns later.

These concerns should be taken with the obvious grains of salt. I have not played the game, or even seen an in-person actual copy of it. The preliminary rankings on BGG have been excellent, and the folks behind the game seem to be well-versed both in WWI aviation history and the long smoke trail of games that have come out on the subject over the years. I want to like the game, I'm just not at all sure if I will. I'm quite willing to believe that a game with a limited range of aircraft, no altitude, and a Roborally mechanic that may be too faithful to its source for its own (simulative) good may be a fun game that can be enjoyed by millions, but I'm not sure it's WWI...

If anyone out there has played it, and can reassure me as to the game's quality, do let me know...

Monday, March 29, 2004

COMING SOON

I got a newsletter from Decision Games in the mail today, and it had some interesting news...

First, Dan Verssen has started designing some games for them. Dan Verssen is an interesting designer; he works mostly in wargames, but they're very light and more "gamey" than most. He's designed a few of my very favorite games--the Down in Flames and Modern Naval Battles series--and even when he misses (7th Sea didn't do much for me, but it seems to have sold well so what do I know) the result is always intresting. For Decision, he's working on a range of card games called "Lightning War," for which the first installments are going to be on Midway and D-Day. The descriptions aren't all that detailed, but the cards look good. Looks like they'll have two full-size decks (one for each side, presumably) and we're told they'll play in 30 minutes.

Also, they're going to release (sometime in 2004) their updated version of Empires of the Middle Ages, a long-dead classic from SPI which typically draws a king's ransom on eBay. Well, Decision's asking for a king's ransom themselves (they're currently estimating $100), but if they actually improve and expand it as much as they say they are, it may be worth it. It's still Europe from 771-1465, but now with better art and a lot more chrome--universities, cathedrals, and a bunch of other options; twice as many cards and counters as the original. They have a "pledge" system, which is kind of like GMT's P500 plan but without any kind of enforcement. I've pledged this one, and I'm curious when they'll actually ask for my money...

Decision's games have gotten expensive, at least relative to where they were a few years ago. Ten years ago, when I really started collecting in earnest, Decision was the Volkswagen of the wargame companies, with pretty inexpensive games. Now...lordy. I know games have gotten more expensive generally, and I'm basically OK with that, but Decision seems to have fallen on harder times than most. Of course, the quality has also gone up substantially; Totaler Krieg is one of the best "big" games ever, in my opinion, and their reprints (especially of War in Europe) have gotten more lavish as time has worn on.

YAY FEATURES

Just added to the left is the URL for my Atom syndication feed. (Thanks to Iain for the tip.) Those of you with Bloglines or something similar, take special note.

EVERYTHING OLD IS NEW AGAIN

I was in the store today, looking over the new MicroMachines. One of their sets is called Mission Unit Alpha: Future Strike. You'll note what comes in the pack: One speedboat, two freaky-looking planes, one big ol' honker that looks like it's trying to be an Ogre, and there--in the middle of the back row--is that apogee of tracked-vehicle technology, an FT-17, a French light tank from World War One. (What's "futuristic," I suppose, is how it's turret is turned around backwards.)

I suppose what most impresses me is that the MicroMachines folks have micro-FT-17s to begin with, although I think they did some WWI tanks in their last series a few years ago, before they were relaunched in the US.

Am I a dork? Yes. Even to the point that the mere sight of WWI armor inspired me to set up Landships! on the games table.

Saturday, March 27, 2004

OTHER GAME NOTES

Sign up now for Fantasy Curling! Also depending on which banner ad you get on that site, you'll find where to get Granite, the premiere curling simulator on the market today. (I actually like watching curling, and have one of Granite's competitors for the Mac.)

Attention all fans of Battle Cry, my favorite Civil War battle game: Be aware, first of all, that Memoir '44 , set in post-Normandy WW2 in the west, is coming out soon from Days of Wonder, and (second) that GMT has finally put the Ancients version of Command and Colors up on their pre-order page. The game needs 1250 pre-orders before it gets built, so spread the word. And if you don't have Battle Cry, then I'd fix that forthwith.

For fans of Columbia block games, a new company has gotten into the business: Worthington Games. Their first product, which has not hit the shelves yet, is called "Victoria Cross" and covers the battle of Rorke's Drift, one of the more heroic moments of the British Army. It's not entirely clear to me how it's going to work, though; I mean, how do you hide the British units from the Zulus (who have the British surrounded)? Still, it's good to see more block games coming out. It's a great idea; solves fog-of-war issues at a stroke, the counters look neat standing up like that, and generally they persuade the designers to simplify and streamline to keep the density down. GMT's Europe Engulfed is a particularly worthy addition to the genre; it's sharing space with Roads and Boats on the Big Table right now. When there's a "Block" treatment of a conflict, I always seem to end up preferring that one to the non-block treatments, for whatever reason...

Still, Europe Engulfed is probably coming off the table to make way for Flying Colors. I'll be sure to post how that works out.

Friday, March 26, 2004

ON THE TABLE

Played a solitaire puzzle of Roads and Boats tonight, trying out one of the Small World puzzles on Splotter's website. I chose that puzzle because it looked like there was a lot to do, and it'd be less likely that I'd goof something up too badly.

Well...somehow, I pulled it off. I was a turn away from producing shares, and ended up with not-so-many points. I had all the buildings I needed, but far too late; the tricky part is not figuring out what buildings you need, where you need to put them, or even what order to build them in; the main task of the game is figuring out where to have your transports at any given time. And that, I have to say, I failed at miserably. Too many roads, too few donkeys, and they were always just a little too far away...

I took some pictures of the game, which I have posted with some annotations here, and if you want to know how this scenario is really played, a far more respectable solution can be found on the scenario page. I deliberately deviated from the solution early to see how it'd work out, which doubtless led to many of my further difficulties.

Thursday, March 25, 2004

GETTING LOST

Got a new DVD the other day, "Lost in La Mancha", and cued it up last night. It's good; not great, but good.

This documentary follows the progress (as it were) of Terry Gilliam trying to make a film, "The Man who Killed Don Quixote." Gilliam had been trying to make this film for years, a decade at least, and finally in 2000 had arranged for some kind of funding. Not a whole lot, mind you, but at least some. The movie actually sounds fairly interesting; it's not a straight retelling of Don Quixote, but inserts an ad executive from our own time (which was to have been played by Johnny Depp) as Sancho Panza (Quixote gets the two confused, as is his wont). It's an interesting idea, anyway, and it looked as though the finished movie would have been replete with Gilliam's grandiose (but effective) sense of style and color.

Of course, the movie didn't happen, and this documentary lets us watch the whole thing unravel.

What struck me was how all the flash, all the beautiful props and grips and sets were ready, but all these colorful clothes lacked, as it were, an emperor. It was extremely difficult for all the actors to get together, and became entirely impossible once Gilliam's Don Quixote (Jean Rochefort) had to leave the set to get his herniated disc in his spinal cord taken care of. The real problem, though, was how perfect the timing had to be; there was so little time to shoot, so little money, such a tiny window, that if anything bad happened the effects would immediately cascade into a catastrophe. And, for this movie, a very great deal indeed went wrong, from a horrible sound stage to a freak hail-and-thunderstorm that destroyed the entire outdoor set.

"Lost in La Mancha" is not, in and of itself, a great movie. It has the feel of a ninety-minute TV show, and seen in that light is quite enjoyable. It gives a sense of the difficlties facing any film project, and also makes one wish that "The Man Who Killed Don Quixote" had actually gotten made; the very few minutes of footage that got in the can in the six shooting days are a great tease.

GREETINGS AND WELCOME

Today's discovery: If you link to a more-popular blog than your own, and they link back to you, your hits go way up. Anyway, hearty greetings (or, perhaps, hyvää päivää) to all the new readers today. Gameblog described my blog about as well as it can be described--as being about "boardgames and books, basically"--although as the summer wears on I'll be discussing baseball (another "b") more often; feel free to pass over anything that's not of particular interest. I generally try to post every other day or so, but sometimes I have to admit that the Musings and Ramblings can be thin for a while, which is when the Things Left Unsaid part comes in. (And, oddly enough, I'm not a big Collective Soul fan.) Still, I aim for every other day.

Also, laba diena to my Lithuanian readership, which represents my other major source of hits, most of whom are looking for information about Jurate Mykolaityte, one of my favorite contemporary artists (sadly, the online database for her art (and that of other contemporary Lithuanian painters) is currently down). I'm afraid I don't have much to offer you...

And, finally, to the guy who came here earlier in the day to find out about how Oklahoma's "Pikepass" automated toll-taking system is corrupt...I really can't help you.

Tuesday, March 23, 2004

ON THE NIGHTSTAND

Haven't had one of these in a while. Not that I haven't been reading or anything...

The most interesting book I've been reading lately, and one which most of you probably haven't come across, is Samuel Johnson & the Life of Writing, by Paul Fussell (which I believe I mentioned earlier).

The book bgins with a brief, high-points-only biography of Johnson; the main part of the book is not biographical per se but having a firm grounding in Johnson's biography is of great help (and it helps present the characters--Johnson, Boswell, Mrs. Thrale, Tetty--that will come up again and again). The book's thrust is to show how the literary scene of the eighteenth century differed from that of our own age, and how Johnson reacted to it, both in his own literary compositions and in his criticism.

What Fussell turns to time and time again is the notion of literary genre, particularly how notions of what genres are and are not "literary" changes over time. For instance, nowadays a travel narrative, say, would probably not be considered truly "literary;" when a Serious Writer tackles the subject typically they find their way to the travel secion of the bookstore, or possibly Political Science if they're "timely," but never the literary section. This wasn't always the case, of course; Twain's Innocents Abroad is part of the canon, as is--of course--Johnson's Journey to the Western Islands of Scotland. Johnson wrote in a wide variety of genres--he wrote poetry (in, again, many genres), plays, handbills, essays, satire, even legal briefs and law school lectures. All of these were "literary" in the eighteenth century, but many of these--legal briefs? lecture notes?--would not be so considered today.

(Johnson also "wrote" many of the speeces given in Parliament during the period. Transcribing the minutes of Parliament was illegal during this period--think of that--and Johnson was assigned, early in his writing career, to turn some bare outlines into something readable for a newspaper. He went nuts, composing speeches in the finest Augustan oratorical style, and these speeches were often ascribed to the MP for years in collections of great English oratory.)

Fussell also discusses how Johnson's "legal" mindset affected his attitudes towards literature. He saw literature not as a modern Romantic-infected reader or writer would--as "creation," something deeply personal (although...well, more on that in a moment). Johnson saw literature as playing within the rules set down within genres, and literature was essentially rhetorical, a way to convincingly lay down a well-crafted instantiation within the genre. (I'm reminded of "persuasiveness" for Mario Vargas Llosa; Vargas Llosa, interestingly enough, takes for granted the "personal" nature of what one is writing, and is trying to reinject rhetoric into literature.) Johnson, for his part, was best known in his early career for a long poem, "London," which illustrates this well.

First, this is a style that modern literary expectations would consider either hackneyed, "derivitave," or deliberately, affected and antiquarian: it's written in the form and style of a Juvenalian satire. You just don't see that nowadays. Second--Johnson believed none of it. Johnson loved London (as he famously said, in my paraphrase, "whoever is tired of London is tired of life"); he just had a job to do and a genre to do it in.

There are genres today, of course, and often we are unaware of them. Still, particularly in poetry, there are rules you follow and expectations to fulfill if you're going to write certain kinds of poems. Fussell has a couple of pages of examples; there's a whole raft of Divorce Poems which differ in virtually no way other than how well, technically, they're executed. Then there was the vogue in the sixties to write poems about How Great Italy Is. This doesn't make them bad, although that's our first thought when we hear someone describe poetry like this--isn't poetry supposed to be free, spontaneous, or at least individual?

Of course not. There's some innovation, sure--think of free verse, which would have been unthinkable in Johnson's day--but mostly we follow each other around the room. When a change does happen, it's usually hard to really pin down what the exact tipping point was, since the changes were really glacial and then, one day, there's Leaves of Grass sitting there on the table.

As is so often the case, the strictest rules are the ones we aren't really aware of. We're especially unaware of the power of genre because we've lost some of the sense that literature is a technical art grounded in rhetoric; even if we know it, we don't want to admit it.

It would be nice, I think, if we had a more universal attitude towards the literary than we do now. Serious writers don't often do travel writing, or serious satire, or work in eleventy-two different kinds of poetry nowadays, and thus a number of the old genres are inhabited by hacks and good writers currently "slumming" it. Blue Highways is the most distinguished piece of travel writing that has been written in the past couple of decades, in my experience, and it has never gotten serious consideration as a literary artifact because...well, because it's a travel book. And when I read it the first time, I didn't read it with the same literary attention I'd pay to, say, Dostoevsky or Paul Muldoon (who you should be reading, too). We just don't think of such things as being fit for literary appreciation.

I also wonder, in passing, how the quality of academic lectures would improve if they were considered literary showcases. I mean, nobody wants to stand up and read bad poetry; making professors a little more aware of the art required for the production of a Good Lecture would be a fine step. (Another of Johnson's jobs-on-the-side was ghostwriting academic lectures--and sermons. Decades later, they were still in print under his clients' names.) The best lectures could be published later, and treated as Actual Literature (Feynman's don't count, excellent as they may be; we go to the Feyman Lectures for the physics, not the English.)

Returning to Johnson's attitudes. Johnson was, in almost all things, a bundle of contradictions. Consistency being the hobgoblin of little minds--and Johnson's mind was very great indeed--Johnson felt, apparently, that being truly consistent was simply no way to go about one's day and stay effective and sane. Johnson was a very devout Christian, which inspired some "Romantic" notions about the need for "sincerity" in one's writing--castigating some poets, for example, of writing of passion without, it seemed to Johnson, really feeling it. This would seem to be a feeling contrary to both his actual writing activity and many of his other published statements on the matter--and it is so contrary. Still, what strikes me is that Johnson perceived the lack of passion in the poems because they were unconvincing at portraying passion or instilling it in the reader. It's all rhetoric...

In the end, this is a fine book, and it's a shame that it's no longer in print (or even available from Powells, it seems). Johnson today is too often considered to be a Wise Man, one who sat in great company and said great things. Fussell reclaims Johnson as a serious writer, one who made his life in the literary atmosphere of his day and whose experiences illuminate not only his own times but our own, in how we appreciate literature and what "literature" (as a term) can mean.

NEW TO THE LINKS

I just added a few more game blogs to the left there--they're the three on the bottom of the pile. (Purely a function of when I added them, honest...) It ocurred to me the other day that I didn't know of many game-focused blogs; then it ocurred to me that I hadn't, you know, looked for any.

Gameblog is especially interesting these days, as Mikko Saari (the proprietor) is in the relatively early stages of Go addiction, portraying life in the lower rungs of Kyu-hood. He's about where I was at my "peak" (such as it was); it reminds me that I've wanted to start a little series called "Get Adequate at Go," where Yours Truly tries to bring himself up to the land of Single-Digit Kyu.

Monday, March 22, 2004

MORE ON ROADS AND BOATS

I've played a few solitaire puzzles; while the rules themselves are easily internalized, this is a difficult game to play well (at least for me), which is a good sign. The logistics require the players to look far ahead, much farther than in most games I've come across, and the nearly luck-free environment means you really have nobody to blame but yourself...in my case, getting one pitiful score after another. I'm creeping up there, though; considering I'm quite the newcomer I think I'm doing well. I have "learning curve" issues sometimes, where I struggle with a game the first dozen times I play, and then suddenly everything clicks.

What I don't understand, though, is why the game has any luck in it at all. The only time during the game that luck comes into play is with the mines, which produce either gold or iron. Each mine starts with three Au and three Fe in it; when the mine produces it takes one of those counters out of a bag at random. That, as near as I can tell, is the extent of the randomness. In the solo games, the mines produce Au and Fe alternately (essentially), and I'm not sure why this isn't the rule for the multiplayer game.

The game is very clever, with excellent components and a lot to do for one to four players. I'm one of the 44 people who have given the game an eight on BGG; this could change, of course, with more experience (especially multiplayer experience), but I will say that this is one of the cleverest games I've ever come across and the solitaire puzzles are challenging and beautiful in the way they emphasize economy of effort. Logistics have never been so fun.

Saturday, March 20, 2004

ONE FOR THE COMMONPLACE BOOK

Faulkner on Freud:

I have never read him. Neither did Shakespeare. I doubt if Melville did either and I'm sure Moby Dick didn't.

From the Threepenny Review

Also, from Herodotus, a reminder about the role games play in civilization sometimes:

The Lydians were the first people we know of to use a gold and silver coinage and to introduce retail trade, and they also claim to have invented the games which are now commonly played both by themselves and by the Greeks. These games are supposed to have been invented at the time when they sent a colony to settle in Tyrrhenia, and the story is that in the reign of Atys, the son of Manes, the whole of Lydia suffered from a severe famine. For a time the people lingered on as patiently as they could, but later, when there was no improvement, they began to look for something to alleviate their misery. Varous expedients were devised: for instance, the invention of dice, knucklebones, and ball-games. In fact they claim to have invented all games of this sort except draughts. The way they used these inventions to help them endure their hunger was to eat and play on alternate days--one day playing so continuously that they had no time to think of food, and eating on the next without playing at all. They managed to live like this for eighteen years.

I sense some translation issues there..."draughts" surely means something different from what it means now; we honestly know very little about ancient Greek games (it's a better record for Roman ones), and there are few mentions of them in the ancients (although I think Plato mentions them a time or two in passing). I also thought that dice were knucklebones in the ancient world; I'm curious what the Greek is here.
ROADS AND BOATS

The short answer: This is some good stuff. It's the second-most expensive game I have ever bought, and I don't regret the purchase--especially if I can talk some folks into playing it face-to-face at some point. I think the rules make this game out to be more complicated than it really is; it would also help if the counters had a little more information encoded on them (such as what it takes to either build the buildings, or what they build and how). If I'm feeling especially ambitious some future weekend I may whip up some variant counters or something to help with that--it's just not obvious at a glance what everything does.

This game has one of the more involved economic models I've ever seen in a boardgame, and it's all pretty rational (with perhaps a few exceptions). An economist would call the model an "input-output" model, one which follows the flow of goods from one industry to another--from raw material extraction (say, timber) to intermediate product (boards) on down the line--boards can be made into paper which can become stock certificates, or boards can be made into buildings or boats, which in turn either produce goods or transport them, and the cycle continues. An "institutional" economist would also find items of interest here, as transaction costs play a prominent role--it starts out being very expsensive (in time) to produce a single good, but this cost is reduced as you invest in research, and your economy becomes more technologically advanced.

The best rule in the game has to be one of the rules on research. Research, in this game, requires two geese and some paper (I think this was my problem the past few years...)--if you have those things on your transports on a single tile, you produce a research breakthrough. Now, if two geese and some paper are left by themselves on a tile--with nobody owning them--the game produces research--we're told that "this leads to a great increase in metaphysical understanding which has no practical relevance in the game."

Worth the price of admission right there. I'm really impressed; I plan on getting two of Splotter's smaller games soon, Ur 1830 BC (which sounds like it's enough unlike regular 1830 that I may be able to stand it) and especially VOC!, a merchant-trading game (I'm a sucker for those) which looks frickin' awesome. I'm also on the hunt for the Roads and Boats expansion--some neat puzzles using the new pieces--but I could use some help on the price...

Friday, March 19, 2004

ON THE TABLE

There was a bit of a mishap with The Peloponnesian War. A fly, which I had been persuing with great zeal for the better part of forty minutes, landed on it--on Samos, actually, and they were about the same size--and I struck the table, repeatedly, with some rolled-up forms from Work. Pieces went flying. I need to reconstruct the game, which shouldn't take too long, but you know how it is.

I mean, you can't just let the flies alone. You know why? Because they're communists. Sure, to begin with you just see one or two. They're a minor annoyance. You figure, leave 'em alone, they'll die out. But you do that, and sooner or later you've got a zillion of 'em on your ceiling spelling out "GIVE US A SIX-HOUR DAY IMPERIALIST SCUM" and then, you know, it's way too late to start swatting. You try to negotiate. "Listen, have you tried a strike? Maybe a walkout. You know, I'll leave the window open, you leave, I get remorse, invite you back, and we do the whole surplus-value thing. Whaddya say?" Crafty little bastards never go for it. So you see a fly--wham! Another fly--wham!! You just gotta keep knockin' 'em down.

In consolation, a game came in the mail today, one I've wanted for some time: Roads and Boats. Partly it's because I'm a sucker for modular hex-tile boards, but I also like games with complex economies and very little chance--which is, essentially, the whole story with R&B. It's also good that it has stuff to do solitaire--nothing too exciting, just trying to maximize your score given a certain board position. As would warm the cockles of Fernand Braudel's heart, geography in this game is destiny. Prosperity and poverty, conflict and peace--it's all about landforms, baby. I'd heard horror stories about the rules, but they don't seem so bad--I guess it's all those years playing the likes of Empires in Arms and Europa Universalis. I'm going to try some solo scenarios to get the rules down this weekend; will report back later.

And the fly? Lived to see another day.

Wednesday, March 17, 2004

MARCH MADNESS UPDATE

Well, ESPN lets you create five brackets, so I did...and only one was determined (entirely) by a series of die rolls. (The University of Illinois at Chicago vs. the Air Force Academy in the final game...final score (also by die roll): 69-67. Can't wait!) Anyone else like wacky brackets? I started a public league on ESPN called Principia Discordia for just that purpose...Get out your dartboards and join the fun!

Tuesday, March 16, 2004

ONE FOR THE COMMONPLACE BOOK

...this being a "feature" that highlights passages I have particularly liked in books I'm currently reading:

The scholar, like the philosopher, can contemplate the river of time. He contemplates it not as a whole, but he can see the facts, the personalities, floating past him, and estimate the relations between them, and if his conclusions could be as valuable to us as they are to himself he would long ago have civilized the human race. As you know, he has failed. True scholarship is incommunicatable, true scholars rare. There are a few scholars, actual or potential, in the audience today, but only a few, and there is certainly none on the platform. Most of us are pseudo-scholars, and I want to consider our characteristics with sympathy and respect, for we are a very large and quite a powerful class, eminent in Church and State, we control the education of the Empire, we lend to the Press such distinction as it consents to receive, and we are a welcome asset at dinner-parties.

--E. M. Forster, Aspects of the Novel

Monday, March 15, 2004

THE PELOPONNESIAN WAR: 431-429 BC

The war begins with the first Athenian operation already underway: Phormio has been sent north to Potidaea to quash a Spartan-allied rebellion, and Potidea is about to be under siege. He has 4000 hoplites (the standard Greek infantryman of the period), 2000 allied cavalry, and 75 triremes, investing 2000 Spartan-allied hoplites within the city.

Elsewhere in Greece, Pericles is in Athens with 12,000 hoplites and 2000 cavalrymen, with 250 triremes ready to put in at Piraeus. A further 25 triremes are at Naupactus, and Athens has Allied forces in Chios, Amphipolis, Pella, Larisa, and Corcyra amounting, all told, to 125 triremes, 10,000 cavalry (all in Larisa), and 8000 hoplites. Athens has 4500 talents of silver in the treasury (although I'd caution against seeing these as literal talents; they represent much else besides actual specie).

Sparta, for its part, has 10,000 Spartan hoplites and 2000 cavalry in Sparta itself. Its chief allies are Corinth and Thebes; Corinth has 10,000 hoplites of its own and 125 triremes, and Thebes has 10,000 hoplites and 8,000 cavalrymen. Sparta has 3000 talents in its treasury, but lucky for them it costs nothing to raise Spartan troops (as they're always ready to go). Archidamus is the primary Spartan general of the moment; he is an able tactician but somewhat conservative tactically--a proponent of marching directly against one's opponent.

The non-player side's strategy is dictated by the "Strategy Matrix," which via a series of die-rolls determines the overall strategy, particular objective, and force composition of the non-player army. The game starts with Sparta following an "Attack Athens" strategy; this will change as the game progresses. To determine the Spartan objective, one rolls a die--I roll a 6, which is Decelea, a town in northern Attica. In game turns, it is an Athenian-allied city with a fortress adjacent to Athens itself.

Archidamus is to lead the operation, and must raise 12 strength points (SP) of hoplites (each strengh point is 1000 Spartan hoplites or 2000 Spartan allied troops) and 2 SP of cavalry. Archidamus takes 7 hoplite SP from Sparta (3 must be left as a Home Guard at all times; he cannot take the cavalry as you can't take the last step of any kind from any city unless you can't raise the troops otherwise) and must find 5 hoplite SP and 2 cavalry SP elsewhere--namely Corinth and Thebes. Corinth is the next stop, where 4H SP are picked up (H=Hoplite, C=Cavalry, and N=Naval from here on out)--again, leaving 1H SP behind, as you can't take the last step of any particular kind from a city. 1H and 2C SP are left, which need to come from Thebes.

Getting to Thebes can be done in a few different ways on the map, and you have to follow the shortest possible path. If there are multiple paths, you choose randomly--in this case, Archidamus follows the coast from Corinth to Pegae to Siphae, then to Platea (which is Athenian-controlled--it would normally be sacked, but that only happens once the army is fully assembled. For the time being, Archidamus is in too big of a hurry), and then on to Thebes, where he assembles the last of his army.

From Thebes, Archidamus moves to Delium, Oropus (which is ravaged, as it's Athenian and Archidamus has his whole army together), and then to Decelea, the objective space. You roll to see if the Athenians intercept the Spartans (if you have cavalry, you can intercept up to one space away--and you have to try to intercept, even if--as in this case--a resulting battle would be not in your best interests. Interception is a 50-50 proposition, though, and this time it fails, and the first Spartan operation is finished.

Play now returns to the Athenian side (me). The Soothsayers say that this is a good time to march, so it's time to plan an operation. The Spartans can't send anyone else against Athens this turn, since they don't have enough manpower (and Archidamus's troops can't move again--once a unit has made an operation, it can't go again), but Athens still probably shouldn't be denuded just yet (it's hard to get units back in place on short notice). The usual thing for Athens to do is use her magnificent sea power to raise Cain on the coast of the Peloponnese, and (if possible) sink a few Corinthian triremes in the bargain. So (continuing my slavish copying of the rulebook's example of play, as it happens) Pericles moves to Piraeus and mobilizes 4N SP, and has them plan a circuit around the Peloponnese until they reach Erineus, which is just two spaces west of Corinth.

The Spartan cavalry was unable to check the Athenian navy's raiding operations when they had the chance (i.e., when the navy came within a space of Sparta), and Pericles came to Erineus without major incident having ravaged the countryside of a dozen cities of the Peloponnesian League. The Corinthian fleet, however, was not napping and caught Pericles' fleet as they patrolled the waters of the Gulf of Corinth. The initial skirmishing was inconsequential, but a major battle took place (first of the war!) off Erineus.

The Athenians rolled a 3, modified by +1 for Pericles and +2 for being Athenian, to a 6. The Corinthians also rolled a 3, modified +1 for having a 1N SP advantage in fleet size, for a 4. The Corinthians, then, lose 2N SP and the Athenians lose none (as they won the battle). More operations to come soon...

PELOPONNESIAN WAR LINKS

...for the war, not the game:

431-429 BC to follow...

Sunday, March 14, 2004

THE BRACKET THING

So, I've started an ESPN tournament bracket group; if anyone wants in, drop me an email (and pass the word along), and I'll send out the name and password.

THE SOLITAIRE EXTRAVAGANZA CONTINUES

So during all that I think I managed to acquire one new semi-regular reader, bringing our little band up to about five...Welcome! I hope you stick around, sir.

Going to try a new serial, again for a solitaire game: The Peloponnesian War, a classic Victory Games title by Mark Herman.

The Clever Bit about this game is that, when you play solitaire, you switch sides throughout the game--you always play the side that's losing. Every game turn lasts three years (so there are ten turns). From the rulebook:

Each game turn, you select leaders for the two sides and determine the strategy which the non-player side will employ during the next three-year period (one game turn). During the Operations Cycle, you may (from each side's treasury) to conduct operations (alternating sides, one at a time) by moving armies to objective spaces, fighting skirmishes and battles along the way....The success or failure of Operations influences the amount of revenue received, and affect each sides side's will to continue prosecuting the way (measured as Bellicosity). Revenue, measured in talents, is used to activate units for operations and to build new units.

There are certain themes present in Peloponnesian War that come up again in his later games, such as For the People--point-to-point movement, relatively generic units, and particularly the notion of tracking each side's will to fight on. The two games are of course quite different, but you can see the same hand at work in the mechanics.

The game includes (a welcome sight) a booklet--longer than the rules--of historical commentary, but everyone should have some extra books of their own on this war, one of the most important in history. I recommend:

  • Thucydides--either the Penguin edition, or The Landmark Thucydides, which is really exceptional. The latter is chock full of maps, pictures, notes, the works--and it stays open when you lay it on the table, so you can eat your cereal and read the Melian Dialogue--at the same time!
  • Donald Kagan's new book on the conflict is also very good, and highly recommended for those of us/you who have a low tolerance for the Ancients. It has the advantage of being written with millennia of historical thought behind it, but has the disadvantage of not being written by Thucydides. He's anything but an unbiased source, is Thucydides, but he has a great, distinctive voice.

Since there are only ten turns to this game, a serial form of it shouldn't take forever and a day. The first report should go up by tomorrow afternoon or evening sometime.

A BIT OF A HIATUS

That's really kind of disappointing...I have an immense VP cusion right now, so it's not too gripping to see whether or not I'll "win"...so I'm going to probably cut down on the after-action reports for a little while. If a particularly cinematic mission comes up, I'll post something, but otherwise this blog is going to return to the usual slate of games, books, and miscellany. I hope you all enjoyed this, and got a taste for how the game works...I wish I had worse news to report, strange as that sounds. Again, I do suspect that the game is balanced; if the law of averages had its sway in that last mission, the big VPs I had accumulated would have started ebbing away something fierce. Still, in games as in war, the law of averages doesn't always work out.

Further AARs, by the way, can be found on Consimworld, if you go to the World War One games folder (check the drop-down menu) and click on the Wings Over France link.

Saturday, March 13, 2004

WINGS OVER FRANCE: TRENCH STRAFING

I've been leading a charmed life...

The flight has been assigned the central part of the front to strafe in support of the offensive. This involves, as one might imagine, flying to the front and then diving at low altitude, taking machinegun fire along the way and hoping for no trouble from above. Today has been a rousing success so far, so no undue risks will be taken--go out, get some fast VPs, and get back. Assigned to the mission are Lts. Hopwood and Dell and 2nd Lt. Critchey-Webb.

The trouble began just minutes away from Amiens, when Hopwood's engine suddenly quit, and was forced to make an emergency landing in a nearby field. Hopwood walked away unhurt, however, and his plane will be available for the afternoon's mission (again: A hex out. C'mon). Dell and Dash pressed on.

Just outside Mercatel, Dell and Critchey-Webb were accosted by two D-IIs, and a dogfight was joined. The first round was ineffectual, with the planes merely circling each other and taking poor shots. The next round saw the English with the initiative, but could not capitalize.

After several minutes of dogfighting, more Boche appeared on the horizon. And not just any Boche, but Manfred von Richthofen his own bad self.

(Sooooo, yeah, I probably should have tried to escape at some point earlier there.)

Richthofen came in on the tail of Dell and, miracle of miracles, missed (he needed a 7, 8, 9, or 11--and got a 12). The other newcomer came roaring in on Critchey-Webb, and also missed--another round to do. Escaping will be nearly impossible with the Red Baron nearby to corral any miscreants who dare try.

The Red Baron & Co. got a bad turn out from the last pass at each other, and ended up with the British planes being in a position to fire. These are desperate times, and sometimes sacrifices have to be made...

The Red Baron was on the point of border-collie-ing off Critchey-Webb, which would have meant certain death (well, damn near certain) for Good Old Dash. Dell had a chance to come in on the Red Baron, which would give C-W a chance to escape, but would leave Dell to a highly uncertain fate, indeed. He took the chance, and dove in on Richthofen, while C-W sped for the rear, easily outdistancing the remaining Boche.

Dell had a side deflection shot on the Red Baron, and knew that this would probably be his only chance. He pulls the trigger--

...and, praise the Lord, hits the engine with every bullet, and a small red canvas plane trails smoke, hurtling earthward.

If I survive this, Dell thought, I've got the Prime Minstership wrapped up with a bow.

Richthofen does not survive the crash--that's 100 VPs, right there.

The slower German planes the British fell in with at the beginning of this mess fell behind, shocked, and circled the crash site. Lt. Udet, following Richtofen close behind, hesitated for just a split second--but it was just enough, barely enough, to allow Dell to escape out of the range of the armada behind him.

Dell caught up with Critchey-Webb many miles to the southwest, and motioned to him that it was probably time to head home before another six Boche landed on their tail. (The R.F.C. had an extremely complicated set of hand-signals during the War.)

So, yeah, the trench-strafing didn't really happen, but so what? You get 90 VPs, you retire.

DEBRIEFING: That was pure, unadulterated luck. Dell had three amazing die-rolls in a row to do that--four if you count the Red Baron's bad initiative roll, then there's Dell's first great initiative roll (to get him in position to fire at Richthofen), the shot that hit the Baron's engine, and then the initiative rolls to get away. The worse pilot survived that mission; both of those British pilots should have been shot down within seconds of Richthofen and Udet (I'm just imagining it's Udet) closing in on them. The English should have lost 30 VPs on that mission: -10 for not strafing anything, and -20 for losing two planes. Then tomorrow would have been screwed, since a replacement plane wouldn't arrive until the next afternoon (at the earliest) and the likely replacements for Dell and Critchey-Webb would have been, frankly, no substitutes at all. (With just a few exceptions, the replacement flyers are pretty terrible.) That's a swing of 120 VPs there...

WINGS OVER FRANCE: PICTURES, PRETTY PICTURES

This mission requires, like the bombing run, the assistance of one of the two-seaters to actually take the pictures. Two-seaters won't be necessary again today, so both are going to come along on this ride. The subject of the photography is the artillery batteries on Vimy Ridge--just on the other side of the trenches, so this is one of the less-dangerous photographic missions, so the "Junior Varsity" will be sent out to escort the two-seaters: Blind Jackson and Softly Saville among the junior officers, and Captain Edney to chaperone.

The sky was still overcast when the planes reached Vimy, and miraculously the guns were still being put in place when they arrived, and no Archie was present. The planes stayed to take five pictures each, and then flew home. One two-seater was nicked by Archie re-crossing the trenches, but to no ill effects. Over Arras, however, a pair of Albatros D-III aircraft "bounced" the Flight, and a dogfight was joined with the British at a decided disadvantage.

These were two of the Germans' best pilots, but they (miraculously) both missed their targets--thanks in no small part to a glorious bit of flying by Cpt. Edney to escape being sixed by an Albatros. In the next round, Edney again managed to avoid his persuer, but Softly Saville found himself in a duel with the other Hun.

The third round found Edney getting a shot off at the Hun--just enough to drive him back over the lines. Saville and his Hun continued to circle, until the Hun (who doubtless was near the end of his fuel range) broke off and sped back to the airfield at Douai.

The flight made it the rest of the way back without incident. When the plates were developed, three were cracked, three were out-of-focus and useless, but the other four were all of average quality, for 20 VPs.

Next Up: Trench Strafing

WINGS OVER FRANCE: DAWN PATROL, PART II

That used a lot of fuel. As the flight reformed, over half their fuel was gone and there was still much to patrol. They had thus far accumulated 70 VPs (50 for observing hexes, 20 for the plane), but started with -80 so they couldn't go home just yet. Edney kept a careful eye on the fuel situation, lest they not be able to make it back to Amiens. 64 AFTs left, and from where they were right now it'd take at least 36 to get home. Still, he decided to press on for at least one more turn.

As it happened, it clouded up pretty quick after the dogfight, and no more Germans were encountered behind enemy lines. Recrossing the trenches, Lt. Dell had some Archie burn holes in his wing, but to no great effect, nothing that couldn't be fixed by the next mission. The boys flew home through a brief thunderstorm, but landed without further incident--and 60 VPs, as a full report was brought back for the Front (+120 VPs), an Albatros was brought down (+20 VPs), minus the 80 VP handicap at the start.

That could have gone a lot worse, to be sure. A more equal dogfight, for example, could have made this go the other way entirely, and a second dogfight would have led to even more fuel consumption and the mission would have to have been broken off.

Now for the first morning mission--the Photo Reconaissance.

WINGS OVER FRANCE: THE DAWN PATROL

The objective of the Dawn Patrol is to spend 30 minutes (or 12 turns) behind enemy lines. The idea is ground reconaissance, so you have to stay below the clouds but, at the same time, you're not to take any undue risks like zooming along the ground taking pot-shots at the artillery. This is the most businesslike mission--scan the ground, chase off (or down) enemy fighters as they appear, and get home ASAP.

The Dawn Patrol doesn't count as a "morning" mission (you're back before breakfast, after all), so anyone who flies this patrol is eligible for the Morning missions...so I asked myself, why not send everyone? Seemed reasonable enough, so for this mission ever'body's going.

Gas-wise, this is going to be another near-run thing. This mission involves a lot of flying; everyone is going to have to watch the gas guages.

The boys took off at the first hint of rosy-fingered dawn, to overcast skies and climbed to 4000 feet. Halfway to the lines, the sky cleared entirely, and a briliant sun shone on the flight as they crossed the trenches--Archie still missed them all, luckily enough. The first three hexes of the southern sector were searched without incident (archie missing every time), but in the fourth hex the Flight was spotted by a pair of Albatros D-IIs, which turned tail when they saw the large British flight. The Brits themselves were too low to catch up with them, so the Albatrosen sped off to the northeast.

In the Central Zone, the first hex searched found a trio of D-IIs at 5000 feet, and B Flight pounced on them. All of B Flight's planes began with the initiative--each British plane may fire before any Boche may fire. The Brits decide to pair off against each German plane--Dell and Critchey-Webb took the straggler, Jackson and Saville the one in the middle, and Edney and Hopwood the first in line.

Edney came in on the D-II's side and got off a medium burst, missing. Hopwood dove from below, firing his guns as long as he could, delivering a solid hit, one which chased the miscreant away from the battlefield but failed to bring him down. Saville also drove off his man, coming from the side. Dell and Critchey-Webb were unable to have any effect on their opponent at all. The German tried to escape, but was caught again. The British flyers all missed him, and instead the remaining German and Lt. Dell found themselves in a personal duel. Finally, Dell brought down his man on the third pass, for his second "kill" of the war.

NEXT: Part II of the Dawn Patrol

OTHER NEWS

The April 2 missions for Wings Over France will go up on this site starting around, oh, 9 or 9:30 PM (Central...), so check back then for updates.

Another Lenten abstention has been that I can't buy any more books...which has led to a phenomenon I like to call "Alfred Rediscovers the Library." Ten books checked out so far...Some of which are quite excellent. I've just started reading Paul Fussell's Samuel Johnson & the Life of Writing, which just for now I'll say is great (through the first chapter) and will earn itself a far longer treatment later. Anyone who has not read anything by Fussell would do well to change that. He's written on a vast number of subjects, and has done so with distinction at every turn. His two most famous books are The Great War and Modern Memory and Wartime. The former deals with how World War One changed our perceptions of the world and of literature--how, in a very real sense, the world changed in the trenches in a way it hasn't changed in other wars. Dr. Palaima assigned that one to us in his fantastic "Myths of Violence and War" class (one of the classes, and teachers, that really changed my whole outlook), and it's stuck with me throughout the years. (Well, not too many years, but years nonetheless.)

Further bulletins as events warrant...

OUT OF THE WRAPPER

That header's stolen from Consimworld, and refers to initial responses to games--i.e., impressions made having just removed the shrinkwrap. This makes them different from my "On the Table" posts, which--I hope--are somewhat more in-depth and have more "meat" to them.

This Lent, I've sworn to only buy two games (I don't count spending my accumulated trade credit from selling off my old games--the idea here being, largely, to reduce inventory and save money), and one of them has been New England. I picked it up at St. Louis's very own Hobby Shop, partly to encourage them in their budding attempts to carry "German" games.

My initial impressions:

The bidding mechanic is very neat, and it seems to also work (the description's in the link above). Graphically, it's a neat look--quasi-photorealistic--but I do wish that the money were something other than yellow and white tiddlywinks.

Gamewise, it looks like most of the other Gold Sieber "Big Box" games--a middleweight, which means that it takes an hour or two, the rules are pretty short, and gives pretty good value for the time and effort expended. Of course, that last bit is a goal that, presumably, everyone aims for--but what I suppose I really mean is that while these are often not the world's deepest strategic exercises, they reward skillful play and fill a niche between twenty-minute blast-through "light" games and four-hour-long gaming extravaganzas. I've found the "Big Box" series to be something of a mixed bag, by and large; I really like Big City, Medieval Merchant, and Mississippi Queen--but Vino left me cold, and while I didn't dislike Doge I didn't feel the need to run out and play it again. From all accounts, though, New England is one of the better games in the series and will make a fine addition.

More on the second game later this week, I hope...there aren't too many "German" games that advertise as being good (and having special scenarios) for 1, 2, 3, or 4 players, and I couldn't pass it up. Sadly, it kind of punches a hole in my pretensions to saving money on games, but I did have a little bit of a piggy bank built up for it...

Thursday, March 11, 2004

WINGS OVER FRANCE: INITIAL OBSERVATIONS

So, first off, I'm having a lot of fun with this one. I have just the slightest sense that things are going a bit too easy, but then I'm only three missions into the about 70 or so that I'll have to do, so who knows? The missions really don't take all that long to carry out; certainly less than I anticipated. Most of the turns are pretty basic affairs, and I've gotten into a pretty good rhythm. I think I've internalized all the rules, but it seems as though I always get a rule wrong at least once whenever I play a game for the first time, so I'm going to re-read the rules to see what I've missed.

There's some fair dinkum bookkeeping to do in this game, let me tell you. For each mission you need to fill out a sheet--get your photocopier warmed up now. I've scanned in a copy that I can just print out, since I feel dirty using the copiers at work. It's actually not the most bookkeeping I've had to do for a solitaire game, and it's by no means enough to make me dread filling out another sheet, but it's not trivial.

The biggest knock on the game I have so far is the rulebook and chart organization and content. There are some reasonably important typo-style errata out there, and the rulebook seems to miss what are to me some important points. I definitely want the second edition upgrade kit, since supposedly everything is now much more nicely laid out--my strong suspicion is that many of the heartaches I have will be avoided by anyone who buys the new edition.

This is recommended, for the time being. What I most want to see is if the missions start getting substantially harder; I mean, if this thing is a breeze then what's the point? I strongly suspect that the law of averages will catch up with me; we'll see. (I can already guess that my photo reconaissance mission isn't going to go too well.) I've rolled some freakishly bad weather thus far, which has kept the Germans out of the skies; that'll make the missions a lot easier, right there. I feel like the weather should have some effect on what happens to my planes, other than making it harder to drop bombs and take pictures.

Going forward with the AARs...they may start getting a little shorter. If I get another Defensive Line Patrol where my planes go up, see nobody, and go down again, then I'm going to just gloss it over with a minimum mention. I'm also running out of good quotes from the various memoirs I'm reading, which will also cut down on the length, although I quite like the two so far.

I'm going to try to get through a week's flying by Tuesday.

APRIL 2: SETUP

First up, one rolls for the day's missions.

This is one of the days B Flight has to fly the Dawn Patrol, which (as its name implies) is the first mission flown in the day. In this mission, you have to spend significant time behind enemy lines compiling a report on the overnight troop movements and so on--in game terms, you have to fly over (within visible range) at least four hexes in each of the three zones of enemy territory.

Then, there are the normal missions. I rolled a 1,2--that means that I have three missions, which I may fly at any time during the day:

  • Offensive Line Patrol, where you fly behind enemy lines, seeking out enemy aircraft and ground targets of opportunity;
  • Trench-Strafing, which, well, involves strafing trenches, and
  • Photo Reconaissance, where you (and a two-seater equipped with a camera) fly to a target and take pictures--the trick being that you don't know how the pictures turned out until you get back to base.
...so that should be fun. Next, you roll for another weather forecast from Nostradamus--today is forecast to be terrible. This is fine for scouting and trench-strafing, but for taking pictures it's a bummer. Ah well...the weather is supposed to be marginally better in the morning, so we'll probably run the photo reconaissance mission then, along with trench-strafing, and do the Offensive Line Patrol with a big flight in the afternoon.

Coming up in the next installment: The Dawn Patrol.

Wednesday, March 10, 2004

MORE ART NEWS

For all of you who, like me, are deeply into the fine arts, this site is for you. It's also good for sports fans. Call him an "Ohio Artist."

Also: Soviet pop music.

(Links found via Dave Barry and James Lileks's websites, respectively.)

WINGS OVER FRANCE: AN AFTERNOON'S SPOT OF BOMBING

Well, it's finally the afternoon, after two quite creditable morning missions. The weather's cleared up somewhat (low clouds, but no rain as of yet), everyone's ready to fly.

The orders reveal that the target is to be a major supply dump far behind the German lines. This is the problem with the SPAD VII: No damn range. This supply dump is thirteen hexes away--merely flying there and back will take up about 100 of its 135 AFT (assuming some climbing above the clouds to get over the Lines), never mind the AFT spent circling and bombing, chasing off Germans, etc. Luckily the actual bombing itself will be carried out by some two-seater aircraft, which have substantially longer range. If all else fails--and it might--then these can go it alone for a considerable portion of the flight.

It seems reasonable to assume that, with the weather looking up, the Boche will be out in force this time. I decide to send the whole Flight--six fighters, two two-seaters laden with bombs--out on the mission. This is rather risky, since if catastrophe strikes then tomorrow's just screwed. Still, this should keep many of the German planes scared away, if nothing else: Again, the procedure will be to avoid contact with the enemy until after the mission is completed (i.e., the bombs are dropped).

Bombing, of course, was not the highly-organized activity it would be twenty-five years later; sometimes it was pretty ad-hoc, as Cecil Lewis describes:

We wanted to drop a bomb. It was not strictly our business, and our machines were not fitted with bomb racks; but there were bombs in the store, and we felt that they should be dropped.

We lay on the aerodrome in the sunny grass with the map before us.

"First," I said, "on what shall we drop a bomb?"

"There is a house beyond Pozieres," said Pip. "It is not demolished. It might be a dump. It probably could do with a bomb." (He is dead now; but I remember how he looked at me sideways, finger on map, and smiled.)

"We must calculate the height and speed, and allow for the wind."

He rolled over on his back and, arms behind head, blinked in the July sunshine.

"Do you know how bombs work?" he said.

"No; but I s'pose we can find out. There ought to be a fuse with a pin to pull out, or something."

We considered it carefully. It was the third day of the Somme battle, and anything that could be done ought to be done. Besides, a bomb!--it might do any amount of damage....

We will fly this way....Four thousand feet....Seventy miles an hour....Measure it carefully....Allow for the wind....We'll drop it from there.

We went to the Major.

"We want to drop a bomb," we said.

"All right," he said. "Where?" And we told him.

The afternoon we set out. The Sergeant stood by nursing the bomb. He lifted it up and placed it gingerly on Pip's knees. It was a twenty-pound bomb, and Pip held it in his arms like a baby.

"It can't go off, I suppose, can it, Sergeant?" he inquired mildly.

"Not till you pull out the pin, sir," replied the Sergeant. "But mind how you chuck it overboard, sir. See it doesn't touch anything."

He thought we were mad. (On reflection, we certainly were.) We climbed up to the lines. When we got over the spot, I turned and nodded. Pip pulled out the pin and dumped the baby overboard. We circled and watched it falling. Then we lost sight of it and looked at the house. It was still there. Then--a flash and a cloud of dust about a hundred yards away. We returned home, strangely elated.

"Did you hit it?" said the Major.

"No."

"I didn't think you would." He was reflective. "Still, you dropped it. That's something."

For days on patrol we used to look for the crater it had made. It seemed a friendly crater. Then we forgot it; but we never bothered to drop another bomb.

With any luck, our bombing raid will be somewhat better-planned and more effective.

The machines take off in the early afternoon, to clearing skies. They climb to 9000 feet, above the clouds, and head northeast to their target.

The weather deteriorated as the eight planes moved east, just off the lines. By the time they reached the trenches, the light clouds over Amiens had become a major storm. (Captain Edney ruefully remembered the bold prediction of the Weather Bureau: ...cloud clearing later...) All the better to cross into enemy territory with, in any event--plenty of time to get lower once they reach the supply dump. Until then, better to stay high above the clouds and avoid the anti-aircraft guns. Still, it'd be nice to have this clear up at least a little, when the bombs need to be dropped--hard to hit a target in a thunderstorm.

The storm had abated, and they flight reached the supply dump under heavy cloud cover. They dove to 3000 feet to attack, and by so doing they encountered "Archie." The gunnery was still light, however, due to the clouds and the one burst the artillery got off missed all the aircraft.

The Germans were surprised by the diving eagles, and no planes were in the air to guard the supplies.

Each bombing turn, each two-seater may drop either three or six bombs. The expected value (in total number of hits--you get 10 VP per strike) is ever so slightly higher if you drop the bombs three at a time, so we decide to drop everything as soon as possible and skeddaddle. The bombing roll gets a +1 (a good thing) for being below 4000 feet, but a -2 for the weather conditions. (If it were still a thunderstorm, it'd be a -5.) The first pass brings three friendly craters, and the flight decides to stay another turn.

Archie again misses, and the doubtless fighter-scramble at the nearby airfield has not yet produced anyone to chase off the planes, so the last bombs can be dropped without interference--and it's another three hits! That's sixty points worth of bombing--you start at -10, so that's 50 VPs! Back to base, friends...

The Brits climb back into the clouds and head for the ilnes. A German plane happened upon the flight as they approached the trenches, but it sped off before being detected, and the flight returned home without further incident.

LESSON OF THE DAY: Clouds rule.

So, for the day we got 86 victory points, which is incredible. My sense, though, is that the law of averages will catch up with me eventually--a few sunny days in a row, and this could all evaporate in twisted piles of wood and canvas. At the end of every day you roll to see if anyone's ratings have changed; in this case, none did. (You need to roll a 2, 11, or 12 for each pilot to change ratings, so it won't happen particularly often.)

A fine day...we'll set up April 2 in the next post. This day should be interesting, since that's the first Dawn Patrol the Flight has to maintain.

Tuesday, March 09, 2004

THAT TIME OF YEAR AGAIN

Well, it's Lent, and that means two things: Baseball and Games are on the mind.

Baseball first. It's looking not-so-good for the home team, but then again, all those years when it looked good for the Redbirds it ended up in some hideous disappointment in the playoffs, so maybe this is the year they'll go all the way. Who knows? As long as they're better than the Blues, I'll be in good shape.

(Re the Blues: God, what an atrocious second-two-thirds of a season. And that's all I have to say about that.)

I have a lot of stuff planned for the upcoming season. First, I want to check out some minor-league baseball, so I'm working on a couple of weekend jaunts to Peoria, possibly Memphis, maybe even Burlington or, one hopes, points beyond. I suppose the hope is that I'll be discovered, with my Project Dorksheet scorebook in hand, by some passing Director of Scouting and be made some team's Sabrmetrician, assigned to watch a bunch of ballgames and muse upon them.

Speaking of, I plan on doing more of that this year--putting up more baseball musings. Rest assured (Russ), it won't dominate the blog but I'm hoping for something once a week or so, preferably with some mathematical/statistical content.

And games. Games are (almost) always on my mind, but every spring I set about trying to find out who I have to kill to get myself invited to the Gathering of Friends. I mean, my grandfather (on the Protestant side of the family) was a reasonably advanced Mason, and I've been associated with the Jesuits in the past; I guess I figured that'd be enough to guarantee my "insider" status in all walks of life, but I suppose not.

I don't want to grovel, Mr. Moon (sorry--Mr. Moon, sir), but I'm perfectly wiling to bend my own rules assuming that the floor is reasonably clean. I'll do a photographic write-up like the rest of the pros...

That's enough of that.

Speaking of baseball and games--a friend/supervisor of mine at work is starting a Yahoo! fantasy baseball league. We're looking for players...right now, it's NL-only and pretty deep--25-man rosters. A straight auction, I think, for at least the first n rounds, then a bounceback draft. Drop me an email or leave a comment (with contact info) if you're interested. It'd be carried out over AIM some weekend night.

WINGS OVER FRANCE: IT IS BALLOON!

For the time being, instead of my own creations, many of these posts will be accompanied by quotes from various memoirs of the first world war. For Balloon-busting, the obvious choice would be the memoir of Willy Coppens, but I haven't tracked down a copy in any local libraries yet. Instead, here's a passage from Sagittarius Rising by Cecil Lewis:

A mile or two behind the front, on both sides of the lines, floated the kite balloons. They hung in the sky like pensive and somewhat inebriated tadpoles, while observers in the baskets beneath ranged batteries by telephone. They thus fulfilled the same function as aircraft in artillery patrols; but, being stationary, were more accurate, within their limits of vision, than a moving machine. They were run up on a steel cable from a winch mounted on a lorry, and at a sign of danger or foul weather could be quickly hauled down.

A string of these observation posts stretched along the salient on the German side, and before the push it was decided that Jerry's eyes must be put out. It was not an easy matter, for their winches were powerful, and at the first sign of danger hauled down the balloons before they could be attacked. Moreover, their position was carefully ranged by their own anti-aircraft batteries, so that any machine attacking them would be flying into an Archie trap....

There were two methods of attack: one with special tracer ammunition, the bullet containing phosphorous, which would set the gas in the envelope on fire; the other by means of rockets. These were mounted in tubes wired on to the outer wing-struts, pointing forward in the line of flight, four rockets on each side of the machine, eight in all. They were ugly-looking things, with heavy iron-barbed heads to tear open the balloon fabric as they entered and then explode and set off the balloon.

The "special tracer ammunition" was also called "Buckingham Ammunition," and is well-described above (and is similar to the heftier Pomeroy Bullet). The rockets were named after their French inventor, Le Prieur and, despite their shortcomings, are generally described by breathless narrators of History Channel documentaries as the first air-to-air missiles.

In the game, as in life, the rockets are very powerful but also unpredictable, hard to use, and more prone to Very Bad Things happening when it hits the balloon (i.e., a giant fireball taking one's plane with it). For my mission, I am giving my top balloon-buster (Hydrogen Hopwood) the Buckingham ammunition rather than the rockets. The other pilots may also attack the balloons with conventional ammunition, but Hopwood may not engage other planes with his special ammo.

This mission has been assigned the southern- and northernmost sectors of the Line to patrol for balloons. This is, of course, foolishness; I seriously doubt that the SPAD VII has enough range to even patrol all of the southernmost sector, but that's neither here nor there. (They just might have enough range, assuming that they don't run into any Hun aircraft, but that's rather unlikelly as we have to go behind the lines to find the balloons.)

The mission starts 20 VP in the red; you get points for each plane downed (as before, but not doubled), and a further 25 points for destroyed and 5 points for damaged balloons.

We know how a basic turn goes, so we'll spare the gory details of the early turns. The excitement begins two-thirds of the way in towards the line, with the first encounter...

The hex has an encounter level of "5," which is modified to 4 due to the weather (which is still "overcast"). The enemy comes in at 5,000 feet, which is well within visual sighting range, so we roll for the identification of the aircraft: a single Halberstadt D-III. German aircraft always try to decline combat when outnumbered more than 2-1, and thus it's up to the Brits whether they want to attack or not. Edney motions to his fellows to press on and let the Hun get away; better, it seems, to not risk a dogfight until the basic mission is accomplished.

Two turns later, another encounter: Another D-3--hell, probably the same one--which continues to hightail it, and Edney & Co. continue to let him.

Things heat up when the flight moved over the trenches. It was misting over the trenches, so the ceiling was much lower--while Archie couldn't see very far up, this allowed the flight to climb 1000 feet to avoid detection, while still allowing them to see down far enough to scan for balloons. They cross the trenches, scan for activity--and lo and behold they find a balloon! (i.e., they rolled a 5 or 6.) With no fighter cover, all three planes dive towards the inebriated tadpole.

The heart of air-to-air combat (and balloon busting) is the "initiative track." Balloons have an initiative rating of 5 (that's a small number). Each Allied pilot rolls two dice and adds his skill rating to it, and then takes that result to a small chart that indicates how that translates into initiative for each plane. This takes into consideration such things as a plane's maneuverability, speed, pilot skill, and so on. You may only attack a balloon if the end result is higher than 5--and for all three, it is.

How long a burst you may fire at the balloon depends on this final initiative number. Edney and Hopwood are at 10 and Saville is at 8, so all may fire either a short or a medium burst. (One may only fire rockets at the balloon if the initiative is 11 or higher--that is, eligible for a long burst.)

It takes eight points of damage to destroy a balloon--a hit from a normal gun does two points, and Hopwood's special ammunition does four points. (A rocket would do five. Honestly: It's harder to fire and it doesn't do a whole lot more damage. What's the point?) Everyone gets to fire; if everyone hits, the balloon goes boom.

Saville goes first, because Why Not. His accuracy rating is a D, he decides to fire a medium burst. He rolls two dice: The gun jams on a 3 and hits on a 7 or a 9. 6--a clean whiff. Next comes Edney: He has "B"-rated accuracy, so he jams on a 3 (again, a medium burst--if it were a short burst, it'd jam on a 2) and hits on a 7, 8, or 11. A 5--this could be going better than it has been. Finally, Hopwood gets his first chance: He takes a medium burst as well, and hits (he's C-rated) on a 7, 8, or 12. A seven--kerpow! He rolls to see if the balloon explodes (this would be bad for Hopwood): He doesn't roll doubles on two dice, so it's just critical damage.

The balloon begins to winch down. It has a "clock" of 33 points; after every series of passes at the balloon you roll two dice and reduce that from the current clock level. A 9--we're down to 24. When it reaches (or passes...) zero, the balloon's on the ground and that's all. (Since the balloon's 1000 feet up, each point is about 30 feet, so the winchers have brought it down 270 feet or so.)

The machinegunners, however, have been alerted and fire at the aircraft before our heroes get to take another shot at the gasbag. Dealing with ground-to-air fire is kinda neat; very visual. There's a grid of 36 boxes, each with a two-die combination in them (1-1, 1-2, 1-3, down to 6-6). You place your planes on the grid, one to a box, however you want. Then you roll two dice (one red, one white) and read them in white-red order (or vice-versa, if you're feeling that way). If you roll for where one of your planes are, it's a hit (which has a variable effect, from "none" to "down you go"). Sure it's unnecessary, but it's pretty neat to see the fire explode around your planes (the counters are well-done and add to the effect). In this case, however, the machinegunners have no luck hitting my nimble SPADs.

We roll for initiative again, and this time Hopwood may take a long burst at the balloon. (Edney and Saville stay in medium-burst land.) Hopwood takes a long burst--jams on a 4, hits on a 7, 8, or 9. A nine! He rolls a double-two (to determine whether the thing blows up--and it does), and just escapes the fireball.

So that's 25 points in the bag.

That was two rounds of combat, which use up 2 AFT each, so after all that we're at 87 AFT. Our heroes decide to scout another hex or two. They climb above the mist again, move northwest--still no Hun fighters, a miracle--and behold--another balloon! They swoop out of the clouds, evade the machine guns again, and move into position.

Saville and Edney are, again, just out of long-burst range. Hopwood, magnificent balloon-buster that he is, starts able to fire a long burst of his tracer ammo. Edney and Saville each take medium bursts to try to soften it up for Hopwood. They both miss, but Hopwood connects for four points of damage. They wheel around for another pass, as the winches below pull the balloon down 180 feet (they rolled a six).

Again the MGs miss their mark, and this time all three flyers are set up to take long bursts. Edney goes first, and hits for two points of damage, and Hopwood finishes it off--and a fireball is avoided this time, as the balloon sinks, burning, to the ground and its crew parachutes to safety.

Another balloon down! That's 30 VPs right now (50 for the balloons, plus the -20 you start with), which is a dam'd good haul. Hopwood's star is burnished further, so everyone decides to hightail it back to the base.

The three zoom high into the clouds to avoid detection as they recross the lines. They climb to 10,000 feet, and head back west.

The flight heads home without incident until just two turns out from the airfield, when Cpt. Edney's engine starts to have serious trouble. He is forced to bring it down just a few hundred yards from the airfield, but it comes down in plenty of time to repair the plane for the afternoon's mission, and Edney is unhurt.

(That's not entirely cricket according to the rules, but Good Lord. The "emergency landing" happened in the Amiens space, and it wasn't major damage, so I'm bending the rules here. If it were even a hex out, I'd follow the rules--which state that the plane is unavailable until the next day.)

A fine mission! Perhaps I should have been a shade more daring and explored a few more hexes, or tried to go after that German plane, but this is merely Day One, and this is a marathon rather than a sprint. Finishing the game with an average of five VPs a day is considered a major victory, so there's much to be said for cashing in one's chips, especially with a major mission coming up in the afternoon.

The afternoon's mission--the bombing raid--comes tomorrow, if that makes any sense.

BRIEF COMMENTS

Been busy at work...balloon busting to come later tonight, though, I promise.

I want to do a "literary" writeup of these missions, but I'm not exactly sure how to go about doing that. The best examples of literature on such topics are those written by the participants themselves--such as the classics by Eddie Rickenbacker and Cecil Lewis--but that's hard to do here, since I don't know which--if any--of these flyers are going to survive the three weeks. I'm sure I'll think of something...

Gamefest, oddly enough, has just now approved this page for its Affiliate Program--I say "oddly" since they had rejected it shortly after I submitted the application, which was weeks ago. Ah well...Anyway, if you're not in the Austin area and need games, please use the banner to your left there...

Sunday, March 07, 2004

WINGS OVER FRANCE, APRIL 1: FIRST MORNING MISSION

Most of the delay stemmed from some confusion as to how, exactly, one runs two morning (or two afternoon) missions. It mostly had to do with weather--the weather will change throughout the mission, and it seemed odd for the missions to have different weather, you know. I considered the logistical nightmare involved in running the two simulataneously, but that couldn't be right...based on a tip from Consimworld, I decided to merely run them with the same starting weather, and just deal with each mission having (possibly) different weather.

To get the hang of the basic tenor of the game, I decided to do "Defensive Line Patrol" first, before the more "involved" balloon busting mission. (I, and the pilots I'm sending on this mission, are pretty green.)

As in most such games, you start off with a certain time limit--for all intents and purposes, fuel. The "clock" in this game is called "AFT," for "Aircraft Flying Time." Each kind of plane starts with a certain number of these, and the larger the number, the longer you can stay in the air. The SPAD VII, sadly, has the lowest AFT rating of the Allied aircraft--135. One hopes that there won't be many dogfights to use up the fuel, lest we not quite make the circuit...

The mission consists of taking off (duh) and visiting nine waypoints behind the Allied lines. "Visiting" consists of flying over the hexes at any altitude--it's better to fly high, of course, so you have the initiative (more likely, anyway) in any dogfights that arise. You start at -12 VP, and you gain 2 VP for every waypoint hit, and then you gain extra VPs for every plane shot down. Since you're patrolling your side of the lines, these VPs are double the normal value; the normal values are 20 VP per non-Jasta 11 plane, 40 per Jasta 11 plane--but 60 for the Red Baron (100 if he's a confirmed kill), and 30 for two-seaters. Of course, you also lose points for Allied losses, which I confidently will not bother to run down now, as they will certainly not be necessary.

Anyway. Time to take off. The first few turns of this will go into reasonably absurd detail; later write-ups will skip most of the gory details of what gets rolled when, etc and will stick to the highlights.

You start with a weather check. Got a 9: No change, it's still Overcast.

Taking off costs 3 AFT, and then you can climb up to 5000 feet at 2 AFT per 1000 feet. I take all 5000, and thus lose 13 AFT (to 122). One then rolls for an encounter; each hex on the mission map has a small number in it; you add the Encounter Modifier for the current weather conditions (here, it's -1), and roll a die--if you roll less than or equal to that number, then there's an Encounter with the Boche. Amiens is a 2, modified to 1, and I rolled a 3: No encounter.

Next turn, you roll for weather again (6: no change), climb or dive (I climb another 2000 ft, -4 AFT), and then decide to stay in the hex or move (I move NE, for -3 AFT). Total AFT loss: -7. Roll for encounter: 6, still clear skies.

Then you rinse and repeat for a little while. Getting to the town of Albert (the first waypoint) cost, all told, 26 AFT. Just outside town, it began to rain, and then turned to mist (which really reduces visibility and the chance of encounters). The major decision now is whether to turn north or south, to start making the tour of the lines. I decide to head south; there's a greater chance of encounters, but it seems like a better idea to hit those while the weather's still kinda soggy and all my planes are intact, rather than risking trying to come back wounded. (My guess is that it doesn't really make much difference.) Thus, the next stop is the southernmost emergency landing strip, then we'll turn northwest and fly over some towns near the lines.

Getting there cost 15 AFT, and the weather steadily deteriorated. The mist turned to rain, and then to heavy, threatening clouds. Mostly this serves to further reduce the chances of running into enemy aircraft. Next stop: Bapaume.

Just outside the landing strip, Critchey-Webb's engine started to die, but luckily for all involved it started ticking again (i.e., I rolled boxcars during the Encounter step, then randomly chose his plane, and then rolled a 5, which is No Effect). Otherwise, the brief flight (-9 AFT) saw only a further deterioration in the weather, passing through some heavy thunderstorms, and now it's back to merely heavy cloud cover but it's gotten much colder (sleet's only a die-roll away). Next stop: The central emergency landing strip.

It did, in fact, begin to sleet, and did so the whole way (another -9 AFT). While the sleet hasn't stopped our small intrepid band of flyers, it has grounded the Germans, and still no encounters. Next stop: Mercatel, just a hex away. Still sleeting, an easy leg. Two hexes to Arras: still sleet, still no Germans. Down to 64 AFT. My sense is that I climed a bit much taking off...

The third (and last) emergency landing field was reached without incident, and it stopped sleeting (for just a moment). By the time they got to St. Pol, it had begun to sleet once more. This was the second-to last stop, though; from now on it was just back to Albert, and then to land.

This was all done without further incident, although the weather became a mere thunderstorm by the time the flight landed, with 16 AFT remaining.

Since I wasn't the one trying to fly so many miles in a canvas plane through sleet, it stikes me as a somewhat bland mission...if the weather had been good, though, there would have been a few encounters (had some low die rolls there). If there had been a dogfight, I probably couldn't have made it back with these planes and hit all the waypoints. As it is, all nine were "visited" (Albert counts twice--coming and going), so that's 18-12=6 VPs for this mission.

Coming up next: Balloon Busting!

Thursday, March 04, 2004

OOPS

Missed some errata in WOF. Instead of Artillery Spotting, the real mission is Balloon Busting. Which just means that this is a perfect chance for "Hydrogen" Hopwood to show his stuff.

This means a slight change in the morning's mission assignments:

  • Balloon Busting: Hydrogen Hopwood (with Buckingham incendiary bullets), Pocket Borough Edney, and "Softly" Saville
  • Defensive Line Patrol: The Mad Hatter, Blind Jackson, and Dash Critchey-Webb

Off to the front! Time to start actually playing this thing.

WINGS OVER FRANCE SITUATION MAP

In case you need directions, this is a map taken from a 1918 atlas, after the end of the war (it shows the limits of the Allied occupation--note the legend in the bottom margin). Zoom in on the northwest corner; our fighter squadron is based at Amiens, and the "action" is taking place all to the north and east of there, to a shade east of Cambrai (which looks like "Cambral") and to a bit north of Carvin--almost to Lille, but not quite. The trenchline (which will star in this account) is kind-of where the "+++++" line runs. (It's close enough, anyway.) Douai is also a major player here; it's where Jasta 11 is stationed--and, yes, the Red Baron does come in from time to time. The Jasta 11 planes have special rules--they're significantly better pilots than the "normal" German airmen. (Well, maybe not significantly. Time will tell, I'm sure, but they do have certain advantages.)

To give an idea as to what kind of scale we're working with, I'll often talk about "hexes" that the Mission flies--so many east, so many northeast, whatever. (Dogfights are handled on a different board; this map is only used for getting to the target.) To get from Arras to Douai on my map, you go four hexes east and one northeast. To get from Arras to St. Pol, you go three hexes west and one northwest. Scale here is kind of impressionistic. Other landmarks will be pointed out as we go along; I'll try to keep providing links to that map (or some other map, if I find a better one).

For a proper paper atlas, these two are excellent.