Guntruck
06-06-2012, 08:04
It's Thursday morning 6.45 and we are under attack by enemy aircraft. A klaxon like the one in ’Das Boot’ is going off and I am expecting shouts of “Alaaaarrrrm!” and "Achtung Spitfeure". Then I come to and realise it is the Oberst’s cellphone (mobile to us Brits) alarm going off. Terrific!
Down to brekkie in the hotel restaurant area. Look around and mentally call someone a lazy beggar for coming down in his jimjams/PJs and dressing gown, then realise it is his ‘costume’ and he is dressed as Arthur Dent from Hitch Hikers Guide to the Galaxy.
Keith and I proceed through myriad corridors to the convention centre. Keith is running his Wings of Glory Daring Rescue game at 9. I’ve got myself booked on the Armoured Predators Ruhr Pocket game, which is played on a 20’ x 20’ floor area. I was commanding a couple of Hellcats, part of the U.S. forces ordered to hurtle up the road and capture the town at the other end – how hard can it be? So, end of turn two, half the American Stuarts and Shermans are smoking badly, as we allies discover that every tree has an 88 hiding behind it. The only real success was the destruction of a 75mm A/T gun that was on point and got plastered by everything the U.S. side could throw at it, on the theory that we wouldn’t get a second chance to hit anything. I put the pedal to the metal and belt up the road at warp factor 4, hoping that speed would make me a difficult target and I could make some ground. It worked – for one move after which I fetch up bracketed between a Jagdpanther and a couple of Jagdpanzers. Game over!
Changing sides at half-time produced a better result, in that the Americans lasted four moves before being annihilated. Nevertheless, the home-brew rules worked very well and produced a smooth flowing game.
So, with a bit of time in hand I head for the dealer hall for a look-see. Loads of traders in the hall, but nothing much I am interested in. Origins is a mix of minis, RPG, fantasy, card games,etc, with historical minis in the minority. I therefore end up buying a not-Scoobydoo Volkswagen and a figure from Miniature Building Authority at the behest of a friend, and set of rules for pulp adventures and a couple of packs of small dinosaurs for myself. These are my sole wargames purchases of the convention, and I know I will have trouble convincing Mrs Guntruck that I went all the way to Origins and only spent $38. Later someone discovers that a trader was selling Wings of War/Glory at knock-down prices, but by the time I get back there most have already been sold.
1p.m. and Keith is running the Bombing of London game that I have signed up for. Sadly, turn-out is disappointing so I end up taking a couple of Gothas across the table against Todd (Pseudotheist) and another player fielding a couple of Camels apiece. Altitude rules in play and plenty of cloud cover on the table (again reducing gun ranges) so I flit from cloud to cloud down the table avoiding a lot of punishing gunfire. This works until I run out of cloud, and one of the Gothas is pounced on and explodes in a ball of flame. The other proves a lot tougher and dishes out some punishment of its own to the Camels. Fortuitously it survives long enough to distract the Camel drivers from the fact that I have sneaked a third Gotha on to the table and it is making good cloud-hopping progress. Keith is also coming on with a Pfalz D.III to help out. My third (and by this time only) Gotha makes it to the vicinity of the half-dozen targets but try as I might I couldn’t line up for an accurate bomb run. In the end no targets were hit but at least the Gotha was still in the air.
Another mooch round the other games going on, then back in time for The Cowman’s “Burn Drachen Burn” game. Two German barrage balloons, one each side of the table with an anti-aircraft net slung between them. A couple of rocket armed Nieuports with a mixed bag of Nieuports and SPADs go up against Albatros and Fokkers. I take one of the rocket armed Nieuports and sally forth against one of the balloons. Some blighter takes a shot at me and boom – exploding Nieuport. Nil Desperandum, mount up and sally forth again. Get quite close to a balloon and have a go at it with the rockets, without much success. The other balloon has been destroyed so the action dissolves into a furball with the odd snapshot at the remaining blimp.
What was good about this game was a family of 5 turned up to play, ranging from 10 upwards (think one was Alex who played in this game as well as the tournament) and they all seemed to be having a blast.
Pack away, find a bar, and on return to hotel get caught in the mother of a storm. Wet outside, wet inside – harmony!
Down to brekkie in the hotel restaurant area. Look around and mentally call someone a lazy beggar for coming down in his jimjams/PJs and dressing gown, then realise it is his ‘costume’ and he is dressed as Arthur Dent from Hitch Hikers Guide to the Galaxy.
Keith and I proceed through myriad corridors to the convention centre. Keith is running his Wings of Glory Daring Rescue game at 9. I’ve got myself booked on the Armoured Predators Ruhr Pocket game, which is played on a 20’ x 20’ floor area. I was commanding a couple of Hellcats, part of the U.S. forces ordered to hurtle up the road and capture the town at the other end – how hard can it be? So, end of turn two, half the American Stuarts and Shermans are smoking badly, as we allies discover that every tree has an 88 hiding behind it. The only real success was the destruction of a 75mm A/T gun that was on point and got plastered by everything the U.S. side could throw at it, on the theory that we wouldn’t get a second chance to hit anything. I put the pedal to the metal and belt up the road at warp factor 4, hoping that speed would make me a difficult target and I could make some ground. It worked – for one move after which I fetch up bracketed between a Jagdpanther and a couple of Jagdpanzers. Game over!
Changing sides at half-time produced a better result, in that the Americans lasted four moves before being annihilated. Nevertheless, the home-brew rules worked very well and produced a smooth flowing game.
So, with a bit of time in hand I head for the dealer hall for a look-see. Loads of traders in the hall, but nothing much I am interested in. Origins is a mix of minis, RPG, fantasy, card games,etc, with historical minis in the minority. I therefore end up buying a not-Scoobydoo Volkswagen and a figure from Miniature Building Authority at the behest of a friend, and set of rules for pulp adventures and a couple of packs of small dinosaurs for myself. These are my sole wargames purchases of the convention, and I know I will have trouble convincing Mrs Guntruck that I went all the way to Origins and only spent $38. Later someone discovers that a trader was selling Wings of War/Glory at knock-down prices, but by the time I get back there most have already been sold.
1p.m. and Keith is running the Bombing of London game that I have signed up for. Sadly, turn-out is disappointing so I end up taking a couple of Gothas across the table against Todd (Pseudotheist) and another player fielding a couple of Camels apiece. Altitude rules in play and plenty of cloud cover on the table (again reducing gun ranges) so I flit from cloud to cloud down the table avoiding a lot of punishing gunfire. This works until I run out of cloud, and one of the Gothas is pounced on and explodes in a ball of flame. The other proves a lot tougher and dishes out some punishment of its own to the Camels. Fortuitously it survives long enough to distract the Camel drivers from the fact that I have sneaked a third Gotha on to the table and it is making good cloud-hopping progress. Keith is also coming on with a Pfalz D.III to help out. My third (and by this time only) Gotha makes it to the vicinity of the half-dozen targets but try as I might I couldn’t line up for an accurate bomb run. In the end no targets were hit but at least the Gotha was still in the air.
Another mooch round the other games going on, then back in time for The Cowman’s “Burn Drachen Burn” game. Two German barrage balloons, one each side of the table with an anti-aircraft net slung between them. A couple of rocket armed Nieuports with a mixed bag of Nieuports and SPADs go up against Albatros and Fokkers. I take one of the rocket armed Nieuports and sally forth against one of the balloons. Some blighter takes a shot at me and boom – exploding Nieuport. Nil Desperandum, mount up and sally forth again. Get quite close to a balloon and have a go at it with the rockets, without much success. The other balloon has been destroyed so the action dissolves into a furball with the odd snapshot at the remaining blimp.
What was good about this game was a family of 5 turned up to play, ranging from 10 upwards (think one was Alex who played in this game as well as the tournament) and they all seemed to be having a blast.
Pack away, find a bar, and on return to hotel get caught in the mother of a storm. Wet outside, wet inside – harmony!