I was privileged to play in a couple of games on Frank's amazing Sudan table at the weekend. We've all seen loads of photos already, but in case you've not had enough of them, here are some more. I teamed up with fellow LAFer Remington as the Brits, and some fellows he knew took the role of the Mahdists (there was a little trash-talking between them, which added to the fun). We were in the capable(?) hands of rule-writer and all-round main man Driscoles as GM.
The photos aren't brilliant, but I only had a little pocket travel camera. They'll do, considering.
Our task was to protect a hilltop heliograph station from attack by the angry locals. I kind of see it as like those protests you get these days when a mobile phone tower is going to be built near a school, or when they want a wind farm near some beauty spot. Damn NIMBYs! Don't they realise the heliograph station has to go
somewhere, and it's for their own benefit?!!
To keep the NIMBYs out we had two units of Tommies, one of Jack Tars, and a Gatling gun. Driscoles kept calling it a Gardner gun, but it clearly isn't. I thought antagonising the GM by correcting him in public while the game was running was a very bad idea if I wanted to get any favourable rules interpretations (however, doing it on the LAF a few days later carries no risk at all
). We formed a line on the hillside, one flank anchored on the river, another protected by a ravine. It seemed a strong position, as our deployment only gave the enemy one tactical option: charge headlong into our guns.
We also had some fire support from Admiral Benbow's rather wonderful steamer.
The Dervish attack began, and they soon started falling like ninepins to the disciplined
VOLLEY FIRE! of the Brits' Martinis.
You have to have singing in a British colonial battle, especially if a Welshman is present...
The first wave were getting close, but their casualties were horrendous.
Not so many as there were a while ago. But at this point disaster struck. The Gatling jammed! Being a smart-arse who has read the rules I pointed out to Driscoles that as we had a full crew compliment I was entitled to a re-roll. My re-roll made things worse: The damn thing was now jammed, broken, out of ammo, kaputt, and possibly out of warranty too.
We tried contacting customer support via the heliograph, but all their operators were busy, and we were asked to wait while they flashed some Vivaldi at us.
It wouldn't be firing again for a while. Or, well, ever.
Bugger.
The actual singing on the day was provided by Björn's rendition of
The British Grenadiers. It was pretty good, actually.
The first wave had been blown away, but they had shielded their comrades in the second wave from our fire with their bodies. They smashed against the left-hand end of our line with most of their strength intact.
The British unit fought valiantly, but was drowned in the Dervish tide. Captain Remington Darcy fought on alone, and showed us how an Englishman can die. The character-building hours spent on the Cricket fields of England had not been wasted. He did not shame his kind.
A gaping hole had been smashed in our line, and the Dervishes poured through it.
Next the silent Gatling was overwhelmed. There was no way to stop them taking the heliograph and smashing it to bits now. The day was lost. A great disaster in the grand British colonial tradition. Excellent fun, and as I said already, a privilege to play on such a smashing table with a bunch of cool guys.
Got one more game to show, I'll post some pics a bit later...
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April 25, 2024, 06:53:15 AM
February 08, 2008, 03:34:03 PM
