Markgraaf of Raubenstadt

Two Out Of Three Ain't Bad

2011-11-17T06:38:00.000-08:00

Things are starting to look up here in Raubenstadt! The new, faster, faster, better, more powerful sump pump has been installed and the basement is now no longer under water. (I wish I could say the same about the mortgage, but that's another story!)
So... the destruction and eventual construction of "The Man Cave" will continue. Huzzah!

I was relieved to discover that "Battlegames" will not go the way of the Dodo, and will (hopefully) be with us for many a long year to come. Congratulations to Mr. Hyde for finding a way forward. Huzzah! Huzzah!

Now if I could only get Hat Industrie to have their 1/72nd Scale Seven Years War Prussians jump to the front of the production line, just in time for the Holidays, my joy would be complete. Sigh

Three Strikes!

2011-11-04T23:10:00.000-07:00

Some days it just doesn't pay to get up. I went downstairs this morning and the basement was flooded (again). It seems the recent rains we had were just too much for the sump pump to handle, and the durned motor burned out. This is the third time this year for Raubenstadt to be inundated. Maybe I should change it's name to Bangladesh! So Monday a new and more powerful submersible pump will be installed, and the drying out process can start (again). Sigh.

I was saddened to learn that Battlegames Magazine is apparently going under and issue #26 was the last one. It was the best since The Mid-West Wargamer's Association Newsletter, edited by the sainted Hal Thinglum (forever blessed be his name) closed up shop. I will miss it. Double sigh.

Well there I was...all set to order a whole bunch of Hat Industrie's SYW Prussians from the Michigan Toy Soldier Company, when I noticed that they were in 1/32nd scale and not 1/72nd! Arrrrgh! I understand that the 1/72nd will be released in their E22 batch, but that's probably sometime in the Spring of next year. Triple Sigh.

Mom always said, "Good things come to those who wait." So I am determined that by the time Hat releases the 1/72nd SYW Prussians...I will have a DRY basement...and Mr. Hyde may determine that Battlegames might continue as a Quarterly or in some form on the Internet!

What Up With Minifigs GFI?

2011-09-09T19:04:00.000-07:00

It has come to the Markgraaf's attention that the Minifigs GFI site has been down for "maintenance" for quite some time now. Does anybody know what's going on with them? Are they ever going to come back on line? Or do I need to open a line of communication with Minifigs in the U.K.?

Hey, Hey, Hey! Where's My Hat (Industrie)?

2011-09-05T03:43:00.000-07:00

We're about a month to a month and a half out from Hat Industrie's latest batch of releases; E20. "Big deal.", says you. "Yarrr!", says I. Among the planned sets are Hat's first entries into the Seven Year's War: Prussian Infantry Marching and Prussian Infantry In Action. I have been waiting for these for a long time, and it is good to know the wait is almost over (and has paid off)!

If they are anything close to their Napoleonic Wars Grandson's version of Prussians Marching and In Action (See the latest Plastic Soldier Review) good times are a comin' for those of us who indulge in Tricorne era wargaming!

I hope that they made the molds for these extra-durable, because I plan to purchase a blue ton of these excellent figures! Bring on the Austrians, British, French, and the Am. Rev. figures! Whoo-Hoo! Woe to the Treasury. Woe! Woe! Woe!

Hats off to Hat Industrie for listening and supplying what their customers want.

Did I Miss One?!

2011-07-17T12:50:00.000-07:00

Well there I was...taking a break from working on the downstairs "Man-Cave", when I noticed a update from that most excellent of bookstores - On Military Matters. Among the selections offered was a soon-to-be-published book from that prolific duo Brigadier Grant and Mr. Olley, Wargaming In History: The Seven Years War, Vol. IV.

"OUTSTANDING!", says I. "Put me down for one copy for Christmas!" Later on, I was going through my wargaming library. I have Volumes One and Two of their series...did I somehow miss Volume Three?

What Does Fred Think?

2011-03-18T20:15:00.000-07:00

I was reading Jay Luvaas' book, "Frederick The Great on the Art of War", and on pages 38 and 39 the following paragraphs caught my attention:

"Machiavelli speaks...of the principini, those diminutive sovereigns who, having only small dominions, cannot send an army into the field. He advises them chiefly to fortify their capitals in order to secure themselves and their troops in time of war. Those Italian princes discussed by Machiavelli are really a breed of mongrels, half sovereign and half subjects. They only appear as sovereigns by the number of their domestics. The best advice that one can give them would be...to lessen a little the opinion they entertain of their own grandeur, the extreme veneration they have for their ancient and illustrious pedigree, and their inviolable zeal for the scutcheons. Men of sense claim that they had better assume no rank in the world other than what is due noblemen of easy fortunes; that they ought to climb down from the scaffold of their pride and maintain at most no more troops than would be necessary to guard their palaces against robbers, if indeed any robbers could be reduced to the starving condition of seeking a subsistence in those palaces; that they ought to raze and demolish their ramparts and walls and everything that gives their place of residence the appearance of strength. The reasons are these: most of these petty princes, especially in Germany, ruin themselves by spending excessive sums to maintain that grandeur with which they are intoxicated, and to support the honor of their family they reduce themselves to beggary and want. There is hardly a second son of a younger brother who does not believe himself to be something like Louis XIV. He builds his Versailles, keeps his mistresses, and maintains his armies....

The reason these little monarchs do not need to fortify their capitals is very plain: they can hardly be besieged at any time by their equals for their larger neighbors would presently intervene and offer to mediate, an offer they are not at liberty to refuse. Thus instead of bloodshed, two or three dashes of a pen are enough to terminate their quarrels.

What can be the use of their fortified towns? If they were strong enough to endure a siege as long as that of Troy against their equals, they would not be able to hold out as long as Jericho against a powerful prince. Besides, if they lie between two mighty neighbors who are at war, they have no choice but to observe neutrality unless they would be totally ruined. And if they join with either belligerent, their capitals become the frontier town of that Prince's dominions...

In short, to make war, give battle, and attack and defend fortified places is the business of powerful sovereigns, and those who effect to imitate them are no wiser than the man who counterfeited the noise of thunder and believed himself to be Jupiter."

Now Frederick's opinion must be weighed carefully. After all, he lived through and helped shape the course of his tumultuous times. But I can't help but wonder if his opinion was easier to reach because he was at the head of one of the most effective armies ever to march. His "business" of being a powerful Prince would have been much easier to carry out if the petty princes had voluntarily disarmed and demilitarized themselves.

Food for thought. The Markgraaf is now going to break out his soldiers and make some thunder!

Meanwhile...Back At The Ranch...

2011-02-16T20:56:00.000-08:00

TWO MONTHS SINCE MY LAST POST? Where does the time get off to? Right after the Holidays hit, I had to help relocate Number 2 Son from here in Indiana to Mankato Minnesota during the worst snowstorm in a decade. What an experience! It was thankfully concluded without any fatalities, fenderbenders, or property damage. Sleeping on the floor of the Bus Terminal in Minneapolis for two nights due to the snow emergency in Chicago did not improve my outlook. But enough of the excuses of reality. What's been going on in Raubenstadt?!

Well...the short answer is, "Not much. I've been busy.", but some progress has been made in gutting and re-doing the basement, i.e. "Man Cave". Sometime in the Spring, I'll get a large dumpster and finish off ripping out the paneling and wooden battens. The idea is to get the walls back to bare concrete block and go from there. In my mind's eye, I already see the permanent wargame table, the shelves for the troops and reference books, and finally, the painting area. All with adjustable lighting. It's going to be everything I've imagined I've needed ever since I discovered wargaming back when Dinosaurs Ruled The Earth; and Raubenstadt will rise like a Phoenix from the soggy mess that was the last time the basement flooded. The Markgraaf has pinned his hopes on the battery powered back-up sump pump to keep things dry down there.

I promise not to let so much time elapse before my next post. I've been going through my wargaming library to get the creative juices flowing again, and I've got a few ideas...heh, heh, heh!

More Honored In The Breach Than In The Observence

2010-12-13T20:31:00.000-08:00

"Well...that didn't go as well as I had hoped.", Col. Schrieber commented to the Markgraaf as they rode their horses back to their escort on their way out of the gypsy camp.

Negotiations had been making some small progress, when the name Baron Von Kerns came up in the conversation. The gypsy chief made it very clear that what ever relationship there had been (if any could be proved) it was business only and no sense of obligation to any of his relatives could be implied. It would also be best if they left immediately.

"Hope springs eternal, Colonel.", the Markgraaf replied. "Tell your men when we get back to camp that they may light their campfires. Tell the sentries to be particularly alert, for I am confident that we will have some visitors later tonight. You see, my dear Colonel, these were only the formal, opening gambits of the delicate dance of negotiating. The second stage will begin when we have multiple people come through our lines willing to talk if we cross their palms with silver. The difficulty will be deciding which of their tales will we believe and pay for, and which ones are creative attempts just to gain our coin."

"I shall see to it, milord", Col. Schreiber nodded, "I hope you're right."

Frankzonia Is Full Of Woods...

2010-11-22T09:15:00.000-08:00

When the Pilfering Frei-Hussars showed the Markgraaf the abandoned sentry boxes at the Northern Frankzonian border, the Markgraaf was dismayed. It was obvious that it had been some time since they had last served their intended purpose, and they were in danger of disappearing altogether.

As Schreiber's Frei-Korps marched past the crossing post, the Colonel took in the situation at a glance. "Double the advance and flank parties. Everybody keep a sharp lookout and your wits about you. We must be ready for whatever we run into."

The Markgraaf mounted his horse and joined Schreiber at the head of the column. "I knew thing were bad here, but I never suspected they were so bad that Stanken would voluntarily abandon the fees he collected here. Colonel?"

"We need a local source of intelligence; with recent information; that is willing to talk with us, Milord.", the Colonel frowned. "We have no contract with any of the locals, nor do we have a base of operations for further supplies. The powers that be, might object to our marching though, and if their force is bigger than ours, they can make their objection most uncomfortable for us."

It was at that moment that a messenger from the advance cavalry patrol galloped up, and saluted. "Compliments of Captain Dorfmann Sir. We have located a good campground for tonight, Sir. The only draw back is further patrolling revealed a gypsy encampment over the next ridge. The Captain didn't want any of our horses going missing Sir."

The Markgraaf leaned over to the Colonel and said, "My wife always said that Frankzonia was full of woods, and the woods are full of gypsies, and the gypsies are full of shenanigans and...information. If we can approach them without scaring them off, we could learn much."

The Colonel nodded, and said, "Have our patrols been seen?"

The trooper replied, "I don't think so, Sir; but it's hard to say for certain."

"Alright. Tell Dorfmann that we'll make a cold camp tonight. Keep his scouts out. Don't approach the gypsy camp, but keep an eye or two on them."

The messenger saluted again, and spurred his horse.

"Have you had much experience with gypsies Milord?", the Colonel asked.

"No.", the Markgraaf replied, "but I'm hoping that my dear departed Father-in-Law's reputation is still influential with them."

Noticing the Colonels puzzled look, the Markgraaf explained, "Ernst, the Old Baron Von Kerns was a man that very few people disappointed more than once and lived to tell the tale."

He's Over The Border And Away...

2010-10-25T07:54:00.000-07:00

It had taken three weeks for the Markgraaf to put the Freicorps into something resembling fighting trim. Replacing the unfit, re-equipping, resupplying, and repairing, had seemed to take forever, but to rush off without taking care of these, would have doomed the expedition before it started, but now the long awaited day had arrived, and the Markgraaf was eager to be off. The enforced delay had generated other benefits as well. His first instinct had been to march up the road with his entire army to Frankfort-Am-Main, confront the Grand Duke, with a drawn sword at his throat, and the growled greeting, "Hello Stanken. Where's my wife?", but such fantasies had cooled with the passage of time. As his father, John Henry, had said, "You catch more flies with honey, than you can with vinegar."

So the Markgraaf had decided on a two pronged approach. The diplomatic effort, spearheaded by Chancellor Weisenheimer, would continue to apply what pressure they could on the Frankfurter government, while Schreiber's Freicorps would go fishing in the murky waters and see what would rise to the bait.

The troop of Pilfering Frei-Hussars that had served with Von Mack during the "Affair Of The Runaway Duchess" were summoned. They would scout the countryside ahead of the Freicorps, discreetly seeking news of the missing Raubenstadt nobles and their escort. It was determined that to mislead any unfriendly observers, that it would be best to take an indirect approach. The Freicorps would cross the Rhine to the East, go North for a couple of days, recross the the Rhine, and enter Frankfurt from the North.

Long days in the saddle, plain camp food, and saber drills had started to melt away the years of easy living in the Palace from the Markgraaf. "The Old Man" might not be as quick with sword as some, but he had deep reserves of determination. He would let his opponent exhaust himself against his defense, then dispatch him with a workman like thrust.

The Markgraaf of Raubenstadt was on the march.

Zvezda's Glorious Hussars Arrive In Raubenstadt

2010-09-10T21:20:00.000-07:00

Ya-hooo! Well... the Markgraaf may be heading off to parts unknown, but recruitment continues on the Home Front. Today, two boxes worth of Zvezda's "Black Hussars" arrived from The Michigan Toy Soldier and Figure Company. They are outstanding! No flash, excellent poses, and two boxes (38 figures) enables you to eventually field one Grant sized unit of snazzy looking Light Cavalry, with some left over for any Frei-Hussaren squadrons that you may have visions of dancing in your head.

Check out "The Wars of Louis Quatorze" entry for 22 May, 2010. Bill shows the front and back of the box. The Pilfering Hussars of Raubenstadt will soon take the field, and the other nine I'll paint up as per David's picture of the Von Schill Hussars on his "Not By Appointment" blog. Alte Fritz has a link to some very snappy looking Prussian Hussars as well.

Any 18th Century Imagi-nation Ruler can recruit these lads with confidence (And they're easy on the ol' warchest). So...if your mounted branch is looking a little jaded and dowdy, a couple of regiments of these dashing fellows will lend a higher tone to any brawls your army may find itself in.

Cuirassiers! The Markgraaf needs Cuirassiers!

At Colonel Schreiber's Camp

2010-09-10T13:54:00.000-07:00

The Markgraaf rode to the encampment where the recently hired Schreiber's Freikorps had been billeted. He approved of the sentries that stopped him at the camp's edge and asked him his business. Thanks to General Schwillingsaufenstein, he knew the passwords that would admit him. He approved even more, that even though he had given the proper responses, he was escorted by the Sergeant of the Guard's squad to the Colonel's headquarters, and was turned over to the Headquarter's Duty platoon. Such caution would be needed in the days to come.

The Colonel was at dinner. The Markgraaf was told to dismount, picket his horse with the rest, leave his pistols in their holsters, and the Lieutenant would see to his sword, while he waited the Colonel's pleasure.

As he did so, he heard laughter coming from the Colonel's mess tent, and the distinctive voice of Ritter Hugo von Schwillingsaufenstein, General of the Army of Raubenstadt, telling one of his favorite stories. The Markgraaf had heard the tale many times before as man and boy, and the good General was just coming to the end. Ritter Hugo was relating it with great gusto to his new and captive audience. The Markgraaf sat down on a nearby camp stool, under a canvas fly, and listened again to the old soldier weave the web that held the hearer's spellbound.

"The enemy was defeated, by God! The Vile Stagonians were retreating; leaving the field of glory to us! Thank God! For our part we were glad to see them go, for we had seen enough of them that day, by God! It was my first triumph as an independent commander of men. A proud moment for me to be sure; and I savored it to the full. Forty years have passed me quicker than that moment!"

Cheers, glasses, and steins were raised in salute. It also gave the General a chance to relight his pipe and take a pull from the foaming tankard by his side. Outside, in the gathering dark, the Markgraaf raised a full water dipper as well, and wet his throat.

"Telling stories is thirsty work. Now then...where was I?" He puffed on his pipe a time or two and continued, "Ah! Yes! But all too soon the sweet taste of victory took on a bitter tang. A local inhabitant was brought to me by the Escort Squadron. I pointed to a nearby collection of houses, and asked him, 'What is the name of that village, my fine fellow?' Imagine how crestfallen I became when I learned that my first victory would be forever known as, 'The Battle Of Halfwitz!'"

More laughter rippled through the audience of Freikorps officers. As it died down, a young cadet spoke up, "But Sir, that's not the name stitched on the flag."

The General took his pipe from his mouth, and pointed the stem of it at the youngster, as he addressed the Colonel, "Mark that one for advancement Schrieber! He notices the details and speaks up about them!" The Markgraaf recalled the thrill of pride that had coursed through him too, when he had spoken up to the General years ago.

"Sit down young man and let me finish.", Ritter Hugo said. "In a desperate effort to retrieve the situation, I just made it worse. I should have just left well enough alone." A hush fell over the tent, as the officers leaned forward to hear the end of the story. "I then asked the lout the name of the walled manor house that our Grenadiers had successfully assaulted, breaking the Stagonian's will to continue the fight. 'That's the House of Stupitz, my Lord.', the clod replied. Gentlemen, that's how the the Battle of Stupitz-Halfwitz became emblazoned on my banner from that day to this! So...pay attention to your maps; and if you do have to offer battle to your foe, promise me you'll try to find a decently named place to do so!"

Noticing the time, Colonel Schreiber dismissed his officers, and bade them good night. As they began to disperse throughout the encampment, the Lieutenant came up and said to the Markgraaf, "The Colonel will see you now.", and led the way.

As he entered, Schreiber looked over and casually glanced at the stranger. Medium height, brown hair well sprinkled with grey at the temples, starting to get a little stout in the middle, walked with a slight limp - favoring the left leg.

"So my good man, what can I do for you?", the Colonel inquired; and waited for the farmer to tell his tale of missing livestock or some such.

"Perhaps it would be better if I made the introductions.", Hugo smoothly intervened. "Colonel Schreiber, this is my ruler, my friend, and your employer, His Grace, The Markgraaf Of Raubenstadt. Your Grace, this is Colonel Rupert von Schreiber of the Freikorps you hired."

As Rupert came to his feet, he was relieved when the Markgraaf put out his right hand and firmly shook hands with him. You never could tell with the high nobility. Some of them could carry grudges about perceived slights for very long periods of time.

"Very pleased to meet you, Colonel", he said.

"Beg pardon, my Lord. I didn't know." Rupert began.

"No matter. No matter. Needs must when the Devil drives, as they say.", the Markgraaf responded; doing his best to put the Colonel at ease. "Please Gentlemen, sit down and make yourselves comfortable. We have much to discuss."

As the sentries made their appointed rounds that night, they noticed the Colonel's tent stayed illuminated from within until the small hours of the morning.

The Markgraaf Goes Hunting

2010-08-24T23:01:00.000-07:00

Day after wearisome day had passed with no news of the Markgrafin, her brother David von Kerns, Col. Somerussian Guyovich, Agent von Mack, or the troop of guard cavalry and company of guard infantry that had escorted them to Frankzonia. It was as if they all had fallen off the face of the Earth, leaving no trace behind. Diplomatic inquiries were blandly deflected by the Frankzonian Court. Covert attempts had yielded nothing. Limited cavalry scouting of the common border was done to no avail. The Markgraaf considered himself to be a patient man, but at last he could stand the inaction no longer. He summoned Wilhelm, his oldest son, and Otto von Weisenheimer, the Chancellor of Raubenstadt to the Palace...

"Son, I'm going after your Mother to bring her home from wherever she's gotten off to. I'm leaving you in charge until my return." Startled by the announcement, the Chancellor started to protest, but was waved to silence by the Markgraaf. "NO!
Otto, my old friend! My mind is made up and nothing you were going to say can change it. As a young man I rode into their Court and swept the Baroness von Kerns off her feet in a whirlwind courtship that they still talk about! Thirty years have passed me quicker than the image of the first time I saw her. The Old Duchess disapproved of one of her ladies-in-waiting marrying beneath her and opposed our union."

He reached out and gently shook his son's shoulder and laughed, "Luckily for you, your brothers, and sister we ignored her. I will not go another day doing nothing!"

"But Father", Wilhelm said, "I want her back as much as you. Uncle Ernst and Uncle Johan have been frantically trying to move Heaven and Earth trying to find her! Let me go in your stead."

"Ah? You think I'm too old to play the role of the questing Gallant Knight coming to the aid of his Lady Fair?! Bless you boy for the thought, but there's life in the old dog yet. What was done once, can be done again!"

Leaning in close so he could see his son's eyes, the Markgraaf whispered, "The greatest thing about being the one in charge is that you can have things done the way you want them. Mostly it is a great burden, but there are times when it's very useful. This is one of those times. You will discover this for yourself when you rule this place and have a wife of your own, my son."

With that, the Markgraaf gathered his hat, cloak, sword, and pistols from a series of servants as he headed for the Great Hall. He left the Palace, mounted his horse, and left Heidlebeerenburg behind him. He hadn't felt so alive in a long time. If there was even a hint of a trace of Mad Ludwig's involvement in this affair, the Markgraaf was determined to quickly finish up the business with the Prince-Bishop of Spires and turn his eyes toward Stagonia. Colonel Schieber was going to be very surprised.

Back On Track/Stay On Target

2010-08-06T15:33:00.000-07:00

Well...it's taken a while, but I think I've recovered from my son's wedding. The photographer was amazing! He even made this Sow's Ear look like a Silk Purse. But enough about that. What's been going on in Raubenstadt?

Well, the short answer is not much. The Margrafin has gone missing in Frankzonia, and one or more of her brothers may be dead. Agent von Mack has gone silent. So the Markgraaf has considered launching a multi-pronged approach - diplomatic, economic, surrepticious, and low-grade military in an effort to clear away the mists and find out, "Just what the Devil is going on?!" Stagonian involvement is suspected, and if proven, the already frosty relations may hit a new low.

The gutting of the Basement (aka ManCave) continues at a slow but steady pace. Need to install battery powered back-up sump pump to prevent future water damage. (A new, faster, better, stronger Raubenstadt will arise from the soggy bottoms.) It's taking me longer than I expected, but it will be awesome when I'm done. It will be nice to have a place where I can store, display, and play with all the wargaming stuff I've accumulated, and not watch it get stored away in the attic or garage for years at a time.

In the meantime, two publications have arrived from "On Military Matters". The first one is "This Very Ground" a one to one skirmishing game set in the French And Indian War. I like the simple mechanics, and they are robust enough to set in other times and theaters. Say...AWI, 1812, SYW, etc. Good Stuff! The second one was Asquith's "Wargamer's Guide to the War of 1812". It's chock full of information about the campaigns, the troops, and the battles big and small. I enjoyed reading it.

Speaking about 1812, next year is the Bicentennial of the Battle of Tippecanoe. I understand that from the Indiana State Historical Society, that the whole campaign will be re-enacted from the Tecumpseh/Harrison meetings at Vincennes, the Pigeon Roost Massacre, the march up the Wabash to Prophet's Town, and of course, the battle. I'm looking forward to it all.

All Of Raubenstadt Celebrates!

2010-06-20T20:08:00.000-07:00

Our "Number Three" Son, Evan, is getting married this Saturday. Preparations have been underway for the better part of a year, and are now getting into high gear in the final week. He's the first of our four to get hitched. I'm going to try and do my level best to get through it with as much grace as I can muster; for beneath this hard, crusty exterior, lurks a soft, squishy center. (Good Heavens! I've just described a Tootsie Pop!)

So the Markgraaf invites his fellow Imagi-Nation rulers to fill their glasses and mugs to the brim as he toasts the happy couple, "May you live as long as you want, and never want as long as you live! To Evan and his lovely Bride Jennifer!"

The artillery batteries of the Felsigburg will be busy firing salutes for quite sometime to come, so the Markgraaf's plaintive cry of, "I'm too young to be a Grandfather!" will, no doubt, be lost amidst the resounding booms.

It Was A Dark And Stormy Night...

2010-06-03T22:20:00.000-07:00

The lightning would flash and be reflected in the water of the river for a few seconds. The thunder would roll and echo back and forth in the hills of the river valley, while the wind driven sheets of rain relentlessly fell from the night sky. The Markgraaf savored the view from a palace window for a moment, before closing it. The weather matched his mood. He turned to face the four people he had summoned to this gathering. They looked worried and exchanged anxious glances between themselves. "As well they should.", he grumped to himself. The Markgraaf liked to think that he was a benevolent, kind, and patient ruler, but he was not a happy man, and in Raubenstadt, when the Markgraaf is not happy, no one is happy, or at least doesn't allow the happiness to show.

"She's been gone far too long! Something has gone terribly, terribly wrong! ...and NO one has had ANY communication with her, officially or unofficially since she and her escort left?!", he said.

"There has been no contact with the Margrafin verbal or written, or with the officers of her escort." Secretary Bueller blandly stated.

The Markgraaf turned his gaze to Ernst v.Kerns, the commander of his guards, "Not a peep from your brother David, or from Colonel Guyovich?"

The brigadier levelly looked the Markgraaf in the eyes and said, "Martin...I have heard nothing from either of them. They would gladly sacrifice themselves before they would let even the shadow of danger come near her."

The Markgraaf nodded. More to himself than anything else. He knew the Von Kerns valor well, and what they were capable of doing. "The shadow of danger...the shadow of danger...", he murmured. "Chancellor Wisenheimer! Has there been no message at all from von Mack?"

"Not that I'm aware of, your Grace.", the Chancellor replied. "Von Mack is a very resourceful and capable fellow. I have no doubt that he would find a way to alert us if something had happened to her Grace, her brother, or Colonel Guyovich."

"You're putting an awful amount of faith in one man.", the Markgraaf sighed and shrugged his shoulders.

"The Frankfurters have been undergoing a turbulent time.", the Chancellor said to try and reassure his friend and ruler, but could not resist adding, "But then again, when have they not had turbulent times?" This drew some chuckles of agreement all around.

"The Fartzen have been known to be upsetting and quarrelsome in their day to themselves and their neighbors, but if the Grand Duke or one of his many relatives has allowed the slightest harm to come to her..." The Markgraaf paused to calm and compose himself, "...the consequences will be severe."

The Markgraaf sat down by General Schwillingsaufenstein, and asked, "What was the name of that Frei-Korps that was marching though here the other day?"

The general took the last sip of schnapps from his glass, wiped his moustache with the back of his hand, "Schrieber's. Bunch of down on their luck Saxons from the Ducal Houses looking for a contract. A couple troops of ratty looking Dragoons on nags, a company of shoddy Grenadiers, and a smattering of ragged Jagers. Nothing special, but their weapons were in good order."

"Hire them Hugo.", the Markgraaf said. "Give them the standard agreement, but keep it quiet. Quarter them in one of the smaller towns near the Frankfurter border. I may soon have need of troops who's reprehensible actions I can disavow."

Fifty-Five And Holding

2010-05-11T17:57:00.000-07:00

I turned 55 today. Much like Yogi Bera, "If I'd known I was gonna live this long, I woulda taken better care of myself." It was a quiet day, and I had a nice dinner with the wife, number 3 son, and his fiance. I'm still coming to terms with the fact that one third of my life is over. I must find more time for the important things in life like....WARGAMING!

Good Things In The Mail

2010-03-29T21:29:00.001-07:00

Like most wargamers I suspect, I like to receive stuff in the mail. Each morning I'm faced with the delicious question of, "Will ........arrive today?!". If yes, I feel like I've won the lottery. (And the odds are a LOT better!) If not, then the sense of anticipation resets and rebuilds till the next day. (And the odds are STILL A LOT better!)

Recently, I've had some outstanding deliveries. First, on page 96 of Wargaming In History: The Seven Years War, there is a picture of a Prussian Frei Battalion Le Noble jager. The caption describes his headwear as "a black leather cap with a high front". It looked familiar. After a quick reconnaissance at www.plasticsoldierreview.com, I came across Italeri Set Number 6073, Austrian Infantry 1798 - 1805. I know. I know! They're early Napoleonic and not SYW, but... Hey! They've got leggings, casquet caps, and turnbacks on their long coats. If Brigadier Young could use RHA, then I can use these guys for my Frei Corps.

So...a quick order to the boys at Squadron Mail Order, down in Texas, resulted in four boxes (192 figures) showing up. This will enable the Markgraaf to field:

2 Frei Corps of 48 men, 1 Standard, and 1 Drummer each. (I still need 1 Mounted Colonel and 2 foot officers to finish them off.)

2 Companies of Light Infantry of 6 men each. (Still need 2 foot officers.)

1 Battalion of Grenadiers of 24 men. (They look remarkably like the picture of the Hanoverian Scheither's Corps Grenadier on page 110 of Grant & Olley's book! Will still need 1 Mounted Colonel and 2 foot officers.)

1 Battalion of Engineers of 24 men, and 2 foot officers. (I'm going to use the Fusiliers in the "Roman" Helmet. Will still need a Mounted Colonel to lead them.)

Any leftovers will be employed at the Army Staff level, or will be the basis for some of my "Frankenstein-like" conversions. (Eyegor! Bring me another head!)

Secondly, my Minifig "sample" order from GFI, out in Colorado, has arrived. (Thanks Jeff for putting them in your Websites Of Interest list!) Woe to the Treasury! They fit in with all the Revell, Italeri, Scruby, and Airfix guys I've accumulated over the years. I ordered a Prussian Mounted Colonel and Horse, a Prussian Musketeer marching, a Austrian Mounted Colonel and Horse, and a Austrian Fusilier advancing. These are classy looking figures! There wasn't much flash to trim off, and I bet they are a breeze to paint up. Impressive!

I ordered a further 3 Prussian Mounted Dragoon Officers and Horses, 2 Prussian foot officers, and 1 Prussian Dragoon Trumpeter and Horse to help fill in some of the holes in my collection. I like the look of these little fellas so much, I may have to break down and get some Grant style 48 men, 5 officer regiments and hang the cost. I also might have to put in an order with the Minifig U.K. lads for their SYW and AWI "Personality" figures as well!

Last, but not least, my copy of "The Annexation Of Chiraz" has come from On Military Matters. Mr. Grant and Mr. Olley have taken a giant step forward from their "Raid On St. Michel". I am a big fan of minicampaigns, and "Annexation" gives us a "peek behind the curtain" as to how Messrs. Grant and Olley went about it. It's a good read, and I'll be referring to it often.

So! On to the next item on the Neverending List Of Wargaming Stuff, as soon as time, chance, circumstance, and finance allow. I wonder how those Garrison figures would fit in...

A Moment With The Markgrafin

2010-03-11T11:36:00.001-08:00

After a morning inspection and saber drill with his squadron of Saddlesore Lifeguard Lancers, Colonel Somerussian Guyovich casually wandered through the palace grounds, looking every inch the "Beau Sabreur" he was, while searching for his sister, Sharon Elaine, the Markgrafin of Raubenstadt. He eventually found her having a light lunch in a "Repose Temple" in the formal gardens. A squad of his brother David's Guard Musketeers was discretely scattered about nearby to insure that no one approached unchallenged.

"Ah! Colonel Guyovich! There you are. You certainly are a dashing figure in your Cossack uniform. Do you have to use that sword to fend off all the ladies that throw themselves at you?!", she teased. "Will you join me?", she said gesturing to a seat across from her.

"Thank you, Milady.", he said as he claimed a chair, keeping up the pretense that they were not closely related. "What's on the bill of fare? I'm frightfully sharp set and hunger is indeed the best sauce."

"The potato salad goes remarkably well with the bratwurst and a bit of mustard. I also recommend the iced strawberry cordial. It's very spritely."

"And this is...?", Guyovich inquired.

"A salad made with three kinds of beans as the main ingredients.", she replied. "There are rumors that the Frankfurters are working on a salad with five beans!", she confided.

"Remarkable.", he responded, as his plate and glass were filled.

As soon as the servants were out of earshot, the conversation took a more serious turn.

I'm surprised that you have enough of a saber left to carry, Paul. Is it true you hone it everyday?", the Markgrafin inquired.

"Sargent Malik looks at me every morning and says, 'Hetman, a dull sword is of no use to anyone.', then he puts an edge on it that would do credit to a razor. Father always thought I was an indifferent 'hack and slash' man, and Uncle Mack spent many a long hour drilling with me, but I've come a long way since then. I have done my best to pass on those skills to your own sons."

Sharon nodded and changed the subject.

"All of my requests for an audience have been courteously rejected, but rejected none the less."

"They're obviously stalling for time, but why and to what purpose? Who gains from the delay?", her brother pondered. "Uncle Mack is very concerned about the reliability of his sources.", he continued,"Even the Badmann network may have been compromised. He says he feels like...how did he put it? Ah yes! 'A one legged man in an ass kicking contest.'. He always had a gift for a colorful turn of phrase.", he laughed.

"Poor Uncle Mack.", she said as she joined in the laughter. "Well...he knew the job was dangerous when he took it. It's a very tangled web, and there is no easy way to unravel it. We tug on a few threads here and there to no avail. Legend says that Alexander used his sword to cut through the Gordian Knot. We may have to use similar means. We need friends in high places and leverage. I believe I can supply both!".

"Oh?!", her brother injected. "How?"

"Let me demonstrate." She pointed her closed fan at a dish that had been set upon a nearby stand. The dish suddenly shattered and the pieces fell to the ground. Both Von Kerns turned to see their brother David wave from a palace balcony and start to reload his air rifle.

"Friends in high places indeed! And the leverage?", Paul asked.

"It will be interesting to see how the Court reacts when I mention that the cabbage and Saurkraut contracts between Frankzonia and Raubenstadt are due to expire soon."

"Well that shall certainly set a cat among the pigeons", Paul laughed at his sister's audacity.

"I hope so!", she replied. "It's a good thing David is an excellent wing shot, when the pigeon we want takes flight."

Their glasses clinked as they toasted their plans.

"Death to Stagonia!", the Cossack Colonel said in a soft tone.

"Confusion to our foes!", the Markgrafin replied.

In the shadows of the carefully clipped and trimmed hedges and shrubs, von Mack slipped his spyglass back into a pocket. It looked like it was going to be another long day.

Looking For The High Command

2010-03-09T22:13:00.000-08:00

Except for three regiments of HistoriFig Scruby infantry (two of them Lights) and one lonely Minifig casting of Lafaytte on his horse that I purchased lo these many years ago in my youth, the rest of my forces are plastic. Zvezda, Italeri, Revell, and some really long service Airfix American Revolution George Washington's Army compose the bulk of my forces. Much to my delight HaT Industrie will be releasing a SYW line soon that will rival their Napoleonic offerings, and I plan to purchase a boatload of 'em as soon as they're available. (Insert creepy organ music here.)

However...I'm really at a loss for mounted officers above the rank of Colonel that really look the part and fit in with the rest of the guys. You know Generals pointing, contemplating their next move, squinting through a spyglass, or looking at a map. I long to have Staff and Aides-de-Camp galloping about, etc. carrying out the directions of their superiors. HistoriFig currently offers only one mounted officer in their SYW range and he makes a great colonel. Sometime ago I ordered the Prussian General Set from the excellent fellows at DPC. They are great castings with next to no flash to clean up, and they looked good to me once they were painted up. Now normally, a millimeter or two of height difference doesn't bother me, but they are pretty beefy and tower over the rest of the troops. On the other hand, who would disobey a general that looks like he can pick you up and break you like a twig over his knee.

Old Glory might be a better fit, and I do like their Fred the Great casting...there's just something about the cane he's carrying. Their Brunswick figure is pretty impressive as well. I suppose that since a tricorne is a tricorne, their American Revoluion line may also provide some volunteers as well.

Push comes to shove, I may just have to bite the bullet and order from Minifig UK. Lafayette will be glad to see 'em.

Shop Talk With Von Mack

2010-02-17T16:08:00.000-08:00

A few moments after Small Paul and his companions had left the inn, Badmann came sauntering in off the street and saw Mack sitting at a table looking at something in his hand. Noticing the splattered blood trail on the floor, he asked, "What happened here?"

"Nothing I couldn't handle.", Mack replied blandly, as he slipped a coin into his vest pocket. "Come follow me. I've got a private room in the back."

With that Mack picked up a bottle of schnapps and a couple of glasses from the bar, and lead the way to a backroom that was little more than a large closet, a table, and a couple of chairs. "It's cramped. I know, but it's not going to take us that long."

Mack sat down in a chair and opened the bottle. Badmann filled the two glasses and was about to sit down, when he noticed Mack had one hand under the table.

"What?!" Mack said at his friend's hesitation. "Oh...". He slowly raised his hand and reached for one of the glasses, as a relieved Badmann took his seat. "An old trick, but a good trick, none the less. Well...the bottle is opened, it must be drunk, and only truth spoken while we drink. Salute."

The glasses clinked, and soon the table was covered with an astonishing wide array of pistols, knives, daggars, garrottes, brass knuckles, and blackjacks, while the two inspected, sharpened, and cleaned their personal arsenals.

"So...what's the latest from St. Maurice? Any more of that 'zombie plague' business going around?", Mack asked.

"It's been pretty quiet for the last few months. There's been no new 'outbreaks' at any rate. Say, that reminds me. Whatever happened to that Rottenbrat fellow that escaped in the aftermath of our last collaberation? The Herzog was most put out, and I had to do some fancy tap dancing about him. There were no traces. It was like he dug a hole and pulled it in after him."

"How odd that you should say that.", Mack harumphed. "I came across his track just outside the city, and invited him to accompany me to the Felsigburg. I've never seen anybody with such a high tolerance for pain. He kept claiming that he was dead. So after a week of interrogation with no results, I agreed with him. In Raubenstadt we have a law that if a body is unclaimed by relatives after seven days, it can be given to the University's Medical College. I understand that the Professors and medical students were most anxious to examine this rare case. There must have been some spark of vitality left, because he kept screaming, 'No! No!!', when they were carting hime away. Who would have thought that someone like Rottenbrat would have had enough civic pride in him to donate his body to science?" Mack mused.

Badmann shuddered at the mental image, and downed another shot. "Steiner is recruiting at the Black Pelican in Tradgarland.", he said.

Mack was surprised. "I thought I burned that place down years ago."

"They rebuilt it after your fire, and twice after ones I set.", Badmann offered. "Syldavians are a stubborn bunch. So why have three Kerns' come to town?"

"Her Serene Highness, The Markgrafin of Raubenstadt is very annoyed that during the Reichduke's visit, her son Andrew was endangered by the Stagonian plot that was disrupted."

"But young von Meltzer is in charge of the Leib Squadron of the Reichduke, and a personal friend of Prince Wilhelm. There's danger enough in either of those positions!" Badmann exclaimed.

"I know. I know. I tried to explain this, but she wouldn't hear of it." Mack held up his hands in protest. "She's come to give the Old Duchess an earful about endangering her boy and settle some other matters that have long rankled her. Her brothers David and Paul, oh excuse me! Somerussian Guyovich are escorting her to make sure nothing happens to their sister, but I think Guyovich is hiding something. I've known them all since they were little, and as terrible as you think they are; they're not a patch on their father the Old Baron Kerns. I used to work for him when I was younger, you know. He gave me my first job. I still go to his grave every now and then. The children think that it's out of respect, but I really go to make sure that the cold bastard hasn't found a way out!"

Mack drew his hanger to sharpen it. Badmann noticed that even though the hilt, knucklebow, and handle were plain blackened iron in a mass produced Dutch style, and that the scabbard was positively shabby, the blade itself was of the finest Cologne steel, with the "Running Fox" watermark. "I have sworn an oath to protect them, and I don't care who I have to kill to do so. So what is the latest information the Frankzonian Intelligence Service has on Stagonian Agents in the area?!"

Badmann pondered, as he drank his drink, just how much he should tell this very, very dangerous man.

A Conversation with Herr Von Mack

2010-02-12T23:59:00.000-08:00

It had become something of a tradition between Mack and Badmann that when each of them was in the other's area of operation, they would meet, clean their weapons, and trade bits of information and other "shop talk", before carrying out whatever mission they had been assigned. It was a mark of trust between the two professional agents. So it was that Mack was waiting for his friend at a disreputable inn that catered mostly to the bargemen and others who made their living off of the river traffic that had tied up to the docks of Frankfurt.

Mack spoke to the tapster behind the bar, ordered a beer and sat down at a nearby table to enjoy it, while he waited for Badmann to show. He was just about halfway through it, when a large, unkempt fellow sat down in the other chair at the table and said, "How much money do you have on you, Grandfather?"

Mack put his stein on the table, circled the lip of the mug with a forefinger, and replied, "Why do you want to know?"

"If it's enough for my thirsty friends and me to wet our throats, you might just be able to walk out of here in one piece.", the large fellow said, while cracking his knuckles and showing a yellowed tooth smile. "We've worked up a powerful thirst; rowing upriver all day!"

Mack smiled back and said, "I can see that you are a big fellow; and no doubt used to getting your way. Let me school you on why you should never sit down at a table with a man who has one hand under it."

The large man yelped and his confidence quickly leaked out of him as Mack continued in a pleasant conversational tone, "What you're feeling at your right kneecap is a very long, very sharp, and very slender knife. So keep your hands where they are. With only the slightest effort on my part, the blade will slide off the knee-cap and go into the joint, severing all kinds of ligaments, tendons, cartillage, muscle, veins, and perhaps an artery. It will be excruciatingly painful when it scrapes the bone as I twist it to pull it out."

"P-P-Please Sir! Don't!", the large man blubbered.

"What's your name?"

"Paul Peiper! They call me 'Small Paul'. Don't lame me!"

"You know Paul, it would be a terrible time to be out of work. You don't see very many one legged people working the docks. Well...except for beggers, of course. Now a stout fellow like yourself would probably survive the amputation, if this isn't the knife I used to dice an onion last night. Blood poisoning is a terrible way to die. I've seen men scream for days and days while their bodies rotted before their eyes; before the lockjaw granted them the sweet release of death. Good doctors who know how to properly saw off a leg are very expensive. They always want to be paid in advance. It would be months before you could even hope to stand again. Who sent you?"

"He never said. We were supposed to kill you and make it look like a robbery. The brass he paid was good.", Paul grimmaced.

"I'd wager that you wished that you'd asked for more right now. I'll see the color of his money. Now!"

A golden coin reluctantly fell onto the table. "All of them!", Mack insisted, giving a slight prod of the dagger. Two more coins joined the first.

"A pox upon the ragged man! And a curse upon his money!" Paul growled.

Mack drew a double barreled pistol from underneath his coat, cocked both the hammers back, and motioned to Small Paul's two companions to come over. He said, "Paul is going to need you to take him to a doctor." He then pinked him in the calf with the dagger. Small Paul yelled in pain and stood up. His two friends each grabbed an arm and supported him as they staggered from the inn. Small Paul cursed a coarse oath with every step. "Be sure to tell the surgeon to soak the bandages in vinegar, if you want to save the leg!", Mack called after them.

Mack put the pistol back on half-cock and slipped it under his coat. The daggar went back into it's boot sheath; two of the coins were dropped into a vest pocket. Mack looked down at the third coin. The profile of King Maurice of Stagonia stared back.

The Joys Of Winter

2010-01-25T09:35:00.000-08:00

Last Wednesday evening I was taking out the trash to the curb, when I slipped on some glare ice in the driveway and landed like a ton of bricks on my left knee. I hobbled back inside the house and spent the next day and a half watching the joint swell to elephantine proportions.

Having been down this road before, I applied the R.I.C.E. technique of Rest - this was easy, since I could put very little weight on the leg. Ice packs helped reduce the pain and swelling. Compression (Thank you, Ace Bandage!), and last but not least Elevation above the heart level to keep the throbbing down as much as possible.

So the crutches have been put away, and I now look like a proper curmugeon limping along with a cane. I remember ice and snow being a lot more fun when I was younger! Perhaps it was because the ground wasn't so far away! Ha, ha, ouch! ha!

So how did I pass the tedious days and hours of recovery? Well...like any good wargamer would; painting figures and reading. When I'd get tired of one I would switch to the other, and before I knew it, I was a lot more mobile. My latest addition to the Wargame Library is "Wargaming In History,Vol. 1, The Seven Years War", by Charles Grant and Phil Olley. What a read it was! Each chapter and page held me spellbound. I haven't been so enchanted by the printed word since I first stumbled across "The Wargame" for the first time. I highly recommend it!

Actually, Messrs. Grant, Olley, Asquith, and Hyde have much to answer for making my annual wargame budget resemble a piece of Swiss cheese. Their constant barrage of publications keep blowing large holes right through it.
Well...that's enough of sitting at the computer for now. Where did I put that ice pack?!

Huzzah! The Light Cavalry!

2009-12-02T07:58:00.000-08:00

I was trolling through the Michigan Toy Soldier And Figure Company's website, and I noticed that Revell has reissued their excellent set of Seven Year's War Prussian Hussars. They're going for $11.75 a box. So if you're in the mood to recruit batches of those dashingly uniformed rascals that we love to see "en masse" on the tabletop, now is the time to plead your case to Santa!

Has It Been A Month Already?!

2009-11-19T22:54:00.000-08:00

Well shoot! The ticker says its been a month since the last posting...and the ticker don't lie. I attended the "Muster On The Wabash" reenactment in Vincennes, and had quite a time. My brother and I talked to the fellow portraying Governor Harrison in between his presentations, and he said that since the bicentennial for the Battle of Tippecanoe is looming near, plans are underway for reenacting the whole campaign of the Wabash Valley starting next year and climaxing at the Battleground State Park. Very cool!

HUZZAH! My latest order of figures from HistoriFigs has arrived! The LeNoble Frei Jagers castings will become the Yaeger-Schnitzel Jagers, and what fine looking fellows they are too! The mounted Hussar will be painted up as a dashing aide-de-camp for General Lostin Der Wald. I liked the resolute look of the sample figures of Morgan's Riflemen and the Hunting Shirt Infantry from the Am. Rev. line as well, so (sigh) eventually regiments of them will have to be fielded. What amazes me is how well ol' Jack Scruby's work has held up as the years have rolled on. Although some might consider them "long in the tooth", when they're painted up and on the tabletop they can hold their own with anybody.

The Von Kerns Are Coming!

2009-09-30T15:31:00.000-07:00

Erwin von Mack was grateful that the trip from Raubenstadt to Frankzonia had been without incident. The Markgrafin of Raubenstadt, Sharon von Meltzer was traveling to Frankzonia to visit the ruling family, the von Fhartz, and help them celebrate the completed renovation of one of their many estates. Of course, the presence of a platoon of the Markgrafin's Own Guard Musketeers, with their glittering bayonets, and a squadron of the Markgrafin's Own Lancers, with their twinkling lance heads, probably had something to do with the uneventfulness of the journey. It would have indeed been a bold band of highwaymen to even consider hindering the carriage and it's escort.

"If I keep showing up here, they're going to name the road after me.", he thought sourly to himself.

He was not surprised to see his counterpart, von Badmann waiting by the entry portal, as he rode up to the gate. Von Badmann raised his right hand and spurred his horse forward.

"What?! No wandering yodelling instructor cover this time?", referring to their first encounter years ago. "You know, old friend, that we'll have to name the road after you, if you keep popping up!", he said after shaking hands.

"Well...at least I could yodel, unlike those God awful clocks you were trying to foist off as your own work. Besides, I had no choice in the matter this time.", he grunted, and jerked his thumb over his right shoulder towards the carriage. "The Markgrafin and her brothers have come to call."

"Her brothers?!", Badmann's tone and right eyebrow rose.

"Only two of them.", von Mack dryly replied, enjoying his friend's discomfort.

"THREE von Kerns?!!" His left eyebrow joined the right in a mighty effort to reach the hairline.

"Technically only two. The Margrafin herself, her brother David, the commander of her personal Guard Musketeers, and her other brother Paul, the commander of her Guard Lancers. You see, Paul has given up the family name. So...he'll thank you to call him what he goes by these days: Colonel Somerussian Guyovich."

"And he thinks that that is enough of a fig leaf to hide behind?", Badmann inquired.

"He has great faith in the new name, the cossack scalplock, the moustache, his troopers, that he has spent enough time in the Cossack Stiech for everyone to have forgotten why he left, and if all else fails, that weighted Hungarian saber he favors."

Von Mack laughed as he turned his horse around and started to canter back to the carriage.

"I've seen him hack through a fencepost, in one stroke, at a full gallop with that cleaver!"

"We'll talk later!", Badmann called after him, then slumped back in his saddle.

As von Mack neared the carriage, he heard the clink of tumblers and a flask, as the Markgrafin said, "To old scores."

"And their settling!", David replied.

"In a painful manner!!", Somerussian Guyovich chimed in.

It's Quiet In Raubenstadt...Maybe Too Quiet!

2009-09-09T07:22:00.000-07:00

WOW! Where does the time get off to? Five weeks since the last posting? Heartfelt sigh.

So what have I been up to wargaming-wise? I've been finishing up some of those excellent Zvezda GNW Swedish Dragoons as my "Hayburningnag Dragoons". Three boxes will give you enough figures for a "Grant - Wargame" sized regiment of 1 Colonel, 2 Officers, 1 Standard, 1Bugler, and 24 other ranks, with some figures left over for Brigade Staff, Couriers, or Escorts. The boys at Squadron Mail Order were having a sale, so I went ahead and got enough for the "Roadapplegang Dragoons" and the "Knackerbound Karabiniers" as well. (As the names might suggest the Markgraaf does not have a lot of confidence in his cavalry.) They are reasonably priced and easy on the ol' Warchest, so even the most cost concious Monarch can recruit with confidence. Don't be put off by the timeframe. They are tricorne wearing Heavy Cavalry. If some eagle-eyed opponent spots a uniform detail in this scale, just say that your Imagi-Nation is very conservative, militarily speaking, and that "The Socket Bayonet is just a passing fad. Real Men Use Plug Bayonets". If he keeps it up, field a unit of pikes in the next game. Good stuff all around.

With their release of the Russian Artillery of Peter the Great and the Prussian Grenadiers of Fred the Great (I wonder why they avoided some of the more accurate nicknames of the past like Aethreld the Unready or John Lackland? I can see the troops really getting fired up to campaign with Wilhelm Augustus the Barely Adequate! Ha, ha, ha!), it looks like I'll be a regular customer of the Michigan Toy Soldier And Figure Company for the forseeable future. Check out their website at www.michtoy.com for an excellent source for figures, paints, brushes, books, etc.

I've also got an order in with Mr. Mike Tabor's HistoriFig Company for some of those classic 25mm Scruby SYW Le Noble Jagers that I will paint up as my "Ulster Jagers". (As an added benefit, they make great "stand ins" for AWI Butler's Rangers!) Included in the order are some 25mm AWI figures that I'm anxious to get my grubby little cotton pickers on too: Morgan's Riflemen, Hunting Shirt Infantry, Indians, Tarlton's Dragoons, Mounted Infantry, and some command! WOOF! They mix in well with the figures from Zvezda, Airfix, Revell, Italeri, and Hat Industrie, so a wide variety of units can be fielded.

More years ago than I like to recall, I took Bruce Quarrie's advice from his excellent book, "Napoleonic Campaigning In Miniature" to heart, when it comes to painting a couple of armies. Like most great ideas it is so simple that you shake your head and say in a sotto voice to yourself, "Why didn't I think of that?!"

Start with painting a Line Infantry Unit. Once that is COMPLETELY finished and ready for the tabletop, paint up an opposing Line Infantry Unit. Paint up a Cavalry Unit for each side, then a couple of Artillery Batteries. Add a Supply Wagon Train Unit, then paint up a couple more Infantry Units. The jist of the idea is to vary the type and nationality of the units, so that you have two balanced forces (Not necessarily identical!) to set upon the tabletop. I have found that among the main advantages is that you avoid "Painter's Burnout" (NOOOooo! Not another Highlander Unit! The plaid! The plaid!), and if it's an era that you're not sure you want to commit major bucks to, you can still have some cracklin' little actions without having to 'prentise out the firstborn, or take out a third morgage on the ol' family estate. By the time you're ready to field Guard Units, your experience with the lowly Line types, will make your elite troopies martial display something to marvel at.

Last, but not least, I've been kicking around the idea of combining Graf Bogy's (of Hesse-Fedora fame) canvas cloth General Purpose battlefield with the Perfect Captain's Battlefinder tabletop terrain layouts. Seven foot by five foot canvas dropcloths would be ideal to represent their 6 by 4 area. When painted with all the detail of rivers, roads, fords, forests, fields, etc., then draped over the table and the edges clamped to the table's edge, the only things left to be added would be any hills, ridges, and buildings. Each battlefield could be unique and easily rolled up until the next conflict. BWAHAHAHA! The World Is My Oyster!

Meanwhile....In A Back Alley, Somewhere In Frankszonia

2009-07-29T17:06:00.000-07:00

Those who noticed him passing through the Frankfurter countryside thought that he was a well to do farmer. Most didn't even consciously register his presence at all, and that was just the way Erwin von Mack "The Knife" liked it. The whole idea was to blend in so well that no one would recall his features or clothing, so an accurate description would be difficult. For the life of him, he never could understand why any one who didn't want to be noticed, would dress in an all black outfit that fairly screamed, "Look at and remember me!". A dark, sober brown was just as good at night, blended in better in the day, and the occasional unavoidable bloodstain was much easier to hide.

God! He hated amateurs. They always gummed up the works and forced professionals, such as himself, to take extraordinary measures; like the one he was taking now. Hans Rottenbrat, a Stagonian Agent Provacateur, had escaped from the City of Frankfurt, and was lying low in a small town outside of the Frankfurter capital, but he had not escaped von Mack. There he was now! Just like clockwork, slinking along the alley way, all in black.

Mack the Knife waited until Rottenbrat had slunk by, then he stepped out behind him. One smooth, swift, practiced blow from a shot-filled leather blackjack, and Hans fell to the ground without a sound. A moment later he was trussed up, gagged, hidden in a haycart, and on his way to the Felsigburg. Erwin wondered what kind of song the canary would sing, once he was in the cage.

As the cart move out of the alley, he didn't notice a heavy lace curtain fall back into place. Milady de Winter turned to her cloaked and spurred minions. "Should we kill him and recover Rottenbrat?", one of them asked.

"No", she said after a long pause. "Mack the Knife has killed more people than smallpox, and he would not go easily. I can't afford the losses and the ensueing inquiries. His Vileness would not be pleased. He'll not get much out of Hans that concerns us!"

She turned back to the window and said, "And that is why we use 'Cut Out' Agents."

And now for something completely different. Does anybody know what's going on with the DPC website?

Oh No! Not Another Period And Ruleset!

2009-07-28T09:38:00.000-07:00

Those evil trolls over at, "The Perfect Captain" keep tempting me with new periods and rulesets. I've already fallen victim to their "Battlefinder" campaign system and "Hoplomachia" - Hoplite fighting in Ancient Greece. Democrates, the leader of my City/State of Indiepolis has been having quite a time going up against opponents like Slago the Carthaginian, Philanderer of the Meander, and the local Persian Satrap, Arses The Extremely Ill-Tempered The Fourth. It wouldn't be so bad, but those equally evil trolls over at Zvezda also keep churning out good looking figures that paint up well and are easy on the ol' warchest. (Must resist purchasing Polish Winged Hussars until after thePrussian SYW Grenadiers come out!)

TPC's latest offering to catch my wandering eye is their "John Bull/Patriots" rules - small unit actions that can stretch from the French and Indian War to the War of 1812. One of the neatest things about this timeframe is that I can visit some of the actual battlefields and get a feel for the terrain and the combatants. Fallen Timbers, Fort Meigs, and Tippecanoe come to mind, but one that really caught my fancy was, "The Battle Of Blue Licks", August 19, 1782.

One can make a good arguement for it being the last battle of the Revolution. (Cornwallis who?) It's a small engagement. One hundred and eighty Kentucky Militia against three hundred and fifty Indians and Loyalist Rangers. It has it all: a well-known hero, Lt. Colonel Daniel Boone of the Fayette County Kentucky Militia, a well-known baddy, Simon Girty of the British Indian Department, infamous troops from Butler's Rangers, warriors from blood thirsty tribes like the Shawnee, Mingo, Ottawas, etc. against Sharpshooting pioneer indian fighters. WOOF! I see a road trip looming in my near future to catch the annual reenactment just a little bit North of Lexington, KY. Then I've got to find where I put those 1/72 scale Accurate Am. Rev. Militia and the Italeri Eastern Indians....I think I can get my 25mm Scruby Prussian Fusiliers to stand in for Butler's guys.....

Von Mack Rides Again

2009-07-03T19:46:00.000-07:00

Erwin Von Mack, Chief (and Only) Intelligence Agent for the Markgraaf of Raubenstadt, found himself late at night on the road to nearby Frankfort Am Main, with a message from the Margrafin to her second son, the Ritter Andrew Von Meltzer, who was currently accompanying the Grand Tour of the Reich Duke Wilhelm Von Beerstein. She had received vague warnings from her sources in Stagonia, that there was a foul plot underway in Frankzonia involving the Grand Tour and the Frankfurter Herzog, but no further specific details as to who, how, and when were forthcoming.

Von Mack thought that if the Stagonians had grown so bold as to antagonize the Frankfurters, they were due for a rude awakening. Could this new agressive stance be the influence of the Duchess of Sachen-Vindow? If so, she did not know the Frankfurters as well as she thought. Bitterly gained personal experience had taught Von Mack that underneath the bland and somewhat bumbling facade Stanken showed the world, there lurked a mind that could have taught Machavelli a thing or two about ruling. He mentally winced at the memories, and wondered what it would be like to be on the same side for a change.

Sachen-Vindow. Sachen-Vindow. His failure at that damnable Inn, "The Crooked Kobold", had haunted Von Mack for months now, and if events had just gone a little different, he probably wouldn't have found himself on the road to Frankfort Am Main at such an ungodly hour, with a full moon lighting his way along the well known track. The grim setting did nothing to improve his mood. Von Mack was determined that this time there would be no failures.

Justice and Death, personally delivered in the form of Erwin Von Mack, were coming closer to Frankfort with every plodding hoofbeat of his horse....

(Hi Guys,

Sorry about not posting in a while, but things have been awfully busy around here for the last three weeks. However, progress has been made. The wiring, drywalling, and painting of the living room and hallway has been done, and the air conditioning system has been brought up to date and turned on. You would not believe how humid it has been around here. I hope that there will now be a little more time for hobby stuff.

Hope you had a Happby Birthday Jeff! Long may the Blue Bear lead this merry band!

A. J. ! Here's to you and your Bride! May you both live as long as you want, and never want as long as you live!

Hey Stokes! All kidding aside, congratulations on the impending arrival!

Given the outcome of current events in our Imagi-Nations, I just couldn't resist sticking a big ol' Raubenstadter thumb in the eye of this particular Stagonian plot!)

Reading, Raiding, and 'Rithmatic

2009-06-06T11:25:00.000-07:00

The Markgraaf has been pretty busy remodelling the basement (a.k.a. "The Mancave") and taking care of my brother. John's operations to repair his right wrist and left elbow went well. Some of the pins come out next week, and he's well on the road to full recovery.

So.....I was reading my copy of Brig. Grant's excellent booklet, "Raid On St. Michel", and I had one of those Eureka moments that happen so rarely. "Raid" is an excellent read, but it's kind of like eating a potato chip - it's tastes good, but one is not enough. Then I got to thinking (generally others can tell I am thinking by the burning smell that would remind one of cobwebs and old sawdust going up in smoke.) "Hey! Wait a minute! I've got 'Scenario's For Wargames', 'Programmed Scenarios', and 'Scenario's For All Ages' around here! Now that I've got a framework for minicampaigns, I'm only limited by my own imagination! Let the evil laughter and creepy organ music begin!"

Anyway, so now I'm pouring through the books; linking scenarios, and calculating how many troops would be needed for both sides. The results of these mental gymnastics have been put into a notebook. And on that glorious day when the "Mancave" opens for business, I'll have a narrative that will be worthy of those wargamers that have inspired me. Looking forward to the good times.

The Walking Wounded

2009-04-26T09:29:00.000-07:00

Well....the month of April has sure had it's share of surprises. Back on the 15th (Tax Day! Boo! Hiss!) my brother was involved in a bicycle/Golden Retreiver accident while going to the local YMCA to lifeguard at the pool. The dog is OK, but John suffered a broken left elbow and right wrist. Ouch! So he's come to stay with us until he recovers. Oddly enough, the doctors say that the elbow will recover before the wrist does.

Now my brother has always been an active, self-reliant fellow; used to being on his own, and so this is going to be a big change for the next six months or so. I guess it's a good thing we're related, because when you can't use either arm for very much, there are just some things that only a close relative can do for you. It reminds me of when I broke my left wrist while serving in South Korea. Normally no big deal, but I'll be darned if the Army didn't introduce the Battle Dress Uniforms (BDU) with the button fly the next week! You sure find out who your friends are in a hurry, when you're in a situation like that!

So if I don't post as often as I'd like over the next few months, bear with me.

A Light Gleams In A Window In The Palace Late At Night

2009-04-08T20:02:00.000-07:00

The Markgraaf was restless and could not sleep this night. So he went to his Study to catch up on at least some of the never-ending flow of paperwork.

He sat down at the desk and started to read the first scrap of paper. Some sort of sickness or plague in St. Maurice. Skeletal like peasants spreading the disease, and they were heading for Frankfort-am-Main! Not close, but not far either! The Frankfurters were mobilizing to repel this incursion. The Markgraaf chuckled. Well that should give that smarmy Bastille something to foam about! From what little he knew of Phillip-Louis ( or was it Louis-Phillip?) he was the kind of ruler that would work his people into the ground, feed them next to nothing, and clothe them in cast-off rags! Small wonder that the observers thought these poor souls looked like something the grave had spit back up! He made a note to ask General Schwillensaufenstein about mustering a couple of battalions of Grenzers to strengthen the border patrols in that direction.

He picked up the next report. What in the name of all that was Holy is going on in Sachen-Vindow? The Scandel of the Duchess was the talk of the court, and rumors multiplied like mad march hares! Some of the more outrageous said she was on her way to Stagonia. Others implied she had gone to Gallia. Yet others insisted that they had it, "on the best authority", that she had accepted an Ambassadorship to some postage stamp place down South called, "The Pressipality"! God protect us from wayward women, he thought to himself.

Oh dear! Now Duke Peter is on his deathbed, and wills the Duchy to Treadergar? Good heavens. He wrote another note. This time to Chancellor Weisenheimer. "How will this effect our commercial contracts? Does anybody really know where the Duchess has gotten off to? Is there a chance that she might be able to rally enough support, both internally and externally, to contest the wishes of her husband? In case a civil war breaks out, which side should we support, or should we remain neutral?"

The Reich-Duke's Grand Tour is going well. The "Running Of The Barrels" had been a smash! (Literally and figuratively!) The Markgraaf was pleased that the Beersteiners had enjoyed their stay in Raubenstadt. It certainly made up for "The Fishing Incident" with General Technicalstuff! The Reich-Duke, the Markgraaf, and the Chief Engineer had flogged the water of the Rubberneckar River all day in a vain attempt to get that enormous pike to rise to the bait - to no avail.

General Technicalstuff said to his fellow anglers, "Gentlemen! I refuse to accept defeat from the fins of our gilled foe. Your Grace, if you will apply yourself to the starboard oar? My Lord, if you will be so kind as to man the port oar. I will take the tiller." With that, the small boat drifted with the current to where the fish lurked. As they drifted over the site, the General lit a fuse to a small, sealed, weighted cask, and casually tossed it over the side. He then shouted, "PULL ME HEARTIES! PUT YOUR BACKS INTO IT! ROW LIKE YOUR LIFE DEPENDS ON IT, BECAUSE IT DOES! PULLLLL!" Needless to say the startled oarsmen dug in with a will at his sudden encouragement.

The resulting geyser was spectacular. The little boat violently rocked back and forth upon the waves . The Reich-Duke looked at the General like he had lost his mind. The Markgraaf wiped the spray from his face, and sputtered, "Carl! Are you trying to kill us?!", but the General's attention was fixed upon their wake. "Ah-ha! There she blows! Quick! Turn us around My Lord. That's the way! The blast has stunned the big bastard and he's floated to the surface! Now pull together! Your Grace, if you would be so kind as to get the net ready? Hummmm....I think a smaller charge of gunpowder for next time...." The Markgraaf was sure that the Reich-Duke would have an entertaining story about fishing on the Rubberneckarfor the rest of the Grand Tour! And the Markgraaf had sworn never to go fishing with an Engineer for the rest of his life.

The next missive caused a sigh to escape. "King" Ludwig of Stagonia is marching to add a Stollen Sawmill to his kingdom?! Well.....if there were any doubts about his sanity before, they were removed now. The Stollen General Drosselmaijer is confident of victory....Yah, yah...I've heard that one before! We'll see. They have pretty uniforms, but do they have spine (or claws) for battle with the Vile Stagonians?

Stagonia. Stagonia. All roads lead back to Stagonia. Perhaps once the territories from Spires have been absorbed into Raubenstaat, new troops could be recruited. Perhaps an alliance or two with other interested parties..., but not yet. Not with Frankfort in an uproar!

It was at this moment that young Bueller knocked on the door, and said, "Excuse me My Lord, but Herr Von Mack is here and wants an audience with you."

"Well...the night has been full of surprises!", the Markgraaf thought to himself. "This should be interesting." "Yes! Ferris! Send him in. I've been most anxious about him!"

A Tricorn HAT Is Thrown Into The Ring

2009-03-29T16:07:00.000-07:00

Excellent news from the boys from HAT Industrie - they're going to start a Seven Years Wars Range of figures soon! No word yet as to what will be released first, but if they follow what they did for their Napoleonic line, we shall soon have a wide assortment to choose from.

"Big deal.", says the wargamer of mature years with tons of lead and pewter. "Well....Yes!" says I. At $8.00 on average per box of 48 infantry or 12 cavalry, we can afford to furnish any nephews (and nieces) , cousins, brothers, friends, or total strangers who show an interest with some forces to oppose our own, in addition to swelling the ranks of our armies. Hopefully they will take the bait and add to them as the years roll on. If they REALLY take the bait, then they can discover the joys of RSM's, Front Rank, Old Glory, etc.

I must admit that some of HAT's first offerings were pretty ropy, but they've come a long way since then. Their 1805 Russian Infantry, 1806 Saxon Infantry, and their 1806 Prussian Hussars are excellent figures. Particularly when they have a decent paint job and fielded in large (ish) formations. All in all it is an outstanding time to be a wargamer!

Campfire Of The Vanities

2009-03-24T08:23:00.000-07:00

It had been a long ride back from "The Crooked Kobold" and with every step the horses took, the money in the men's sabertaches jingled with an accusatory tone in Von Mack's imagination, "Gone, gone, gone. She's gone, gone, gone." He was relieved to call a halt that evening and set up camp for the night.

He left the details of the camp set up to Lieutenant Ziegler and the Sergeants, and instructed them that he wanted to be left alone as much as possible tonight. Soon the camp was filled with the muffled sounds and smells of horses being picketed and groomed, firewood being gathered, sentries being set, rations being cooked, and the hum of quiet conversations among the men. Von Mack knew that they were content; and why not? No casualties to man or beast. Ten Thalers for every man jack of them. That was a lot of money to these troopers, and yet ....Von Mack had hoped for so much more.

He took the time to draw the old charges, clean, oil, and reload his weapons before the sun set. It was an old habit that had served him well. For in Von Mack's business, anyone who did not take care of his tools did not live long. He found the routine strangely comforting, as his hands seemed to require no conscious direction. He then set tooth to the first hot food that had passed his throat in days. After he had finished eating, he pulled his pipe and tobacco pouch out and lit his pipe with a burning twig from the fire. Due to the covert nature of this mission, Von Mack had forbidden any fires. It was like welcoming back an old friend.

As he puffed away, he settled back against his saddle. He stared into the bed of coals, as the fire burned down. He had always enjoyed watching the blue flames dance and cavort among the ashes as night settled in. "No plan survives contact with the enemy.", had been one of the platitudes nagging at him all day. For a bit of fluff that was supposed to be tottering around all on her own, Her Grace sure had a lot of people around her that were familiar with firearms and cutlery....and not afraid to use them. Von Mack, always a suspicious cuss by nature, suspected more than just a little duplicity from his informant. He looked forward to having a frank exchange with his source as to the defination of the word, "unescorted".

With the benefit of hindsight, his decision not to charge into the village had been the correct one. Let the other unexpected contenders bleed each other, and hope that fortune will reward the patient hunter. That Sachen-Window Captain was a worthy opponent, and to come so close to the prize and watch her slip over the border was a bitter pill to swallow. Worse was the fact that the Stagonian Border Guards had gotten a good look at his face. That would make further operations along the Stagonian border more of a challenge, because Von Mack had always made it a rule that his face was the last thing his opponents saw in this world, if then. Garrottes and daggers to the kidney were much easier from behind. Much to his surprise his pipe had gone out, and he reloaded it with his favorite Virginia Leaf.

Von Mack had been very surprised to discover Milady De Winter among the competion for the Duchess. Now there was an operation that he could only dream about. A good information network, generally reliable Horse and Foot at her disposal, and the talents of "Her Nibs" herself. He wondered if the Lady would be having a few words with her own sources. This was not the first time Von Mack had crossed swords with her, but he was sure that this was the first time she was aware of his active participation. There were greater forces pulling the strings around here, and Von Mack resented being used for someone else's agenda.

After his third pipe, Von Mack slowly drew out from his cloak, a packet of carefully phrased letters. Each of them had different addresses and were variations of the same theme, "Her Grace is in my power. How much are you willing to pay for her return/continued captivity/disappearance?" One by one he committed them to the flames and watched them curl and burn among the dancing blue flames. By the flickering light, he scrawled a new letter.

"Your Grace,

I regret to inform you that despite my best efforts, she has crossed over the Stagonian border with an unexpected heavy escort, and is no doubt well on her way to King Ludwig. If you desire another attempt, deposit 250 Thalers with Messrs. Dewey, Cheatem, and Howe......"

While I'm Waiting, and Waiting, and Waiting....

2009-03-19T19:30:00.000-07:00

Tomorrow my oldest son William turns 28! A part of me still sees him with the eyes of a father. "What do you mean you've graduated from college?! You're what? Six years old, at the most!", but he is well and truly launched, and on his way, and I'm a happy man. He's coming home from Boston tomorrow and I'll be picking him up at the airport in Indy. Then we'll spend the rest of the weekend celebrating.

Well....that's one of the reasons why the SYW gathering at South Bend (so close and yet so far) will have to be put off for another year. Dang it! The other reason is that pesky job that pays the bills and all those other annoying necessities like food, etc. (A pox upon you Reality!)

So while I'm sitting on pins and needles waiting to find out how "The Affair Of The Runaway Duchess" plays out, I thought I'd pass at least some of the seeming eternity by blogging about what I've been doing in this neck of the woods - wargaming wise.

Books and Such: I've been devouring my copy of "The Wargame Companion". Everytime I go through it, something else jumps out at me. This is an excellent read and it deserves a place by his Dad's book "The Wargame". Brigadier Grant is a prolific writer, and I hope to be a proud owner of his "Raid On St. Michel" before the month is out; then the Battlegames compendium of Table Top Teasers goes right to the top of the list. If I ever win a lottery, the guys at On Military Matters would have a considerable part of the winnings, because there is all the stuff from Featherstone, Asquith, Weisencraft, and others that call to me like a Rhinemaiden.

I've also been enjoying the Ancient Greek rules "Hoplomachia", from The Perfect Captain. When combined with the excellent Zvezda figures for that time period, it's a great way to spend a rainy afternoon. The Perfect Captain also has a great campaign system called "Battlefinder" that is generic enough to be used in a number of ways. Their English Civil War campaign, "Tinker Fox", is a hoot and half to run. Check them out at www.theperfectcaptain.com You won't regret it.

Miniature Painting: Some time ago I sent off for a packet of 6 SYW Prussian Generals from the boys at DPC, and I've painted up four of them so far this week. Thats what? Eight Olley Points? You get four officers with their right hand on their hip - solidly plodding along, and two officers leaning back in the saddle, looking off to their right, waving their hat! (Either to encourage the troops or saying adieu.) There were three horses in a standing pose, and three more standing with one foreleg pawing the ground. I tried out a number uniform coat colors on them and I am pleased with the results. The details were easy to pick out, and with eyes like mine anymore that's a good trick!

Back in February, the boys from Squadron Mail Order out of Texas had a sale on the Swedish Dragoons from Zvezda's Great Northern War series, and I latched onto three boxes of them! ( Ha, ha, ha! The World Is My Oyster!) These are some truly great figures, and if you're looking to recruit some tricorn cavalry; look no further, these are your lads. Plastic Soldier Review gives a detailed description of these troopers. They mix in well with my Scruby 25's and Airfix, but they look a little slender when placed right next to the RSM's. I'm hoping that when seen from a three to four foot distance, they should do the trick when on the table and in formation. So the Hayburningnag Dragoons have taken their place in the painting line. Can the Roadapplegangers be far behind?! Their Swedish Artillery set from the same range is due out sometime soon. (Yeah Baby! If it's anything close to their Napoleonics, it will be worth every thaler.) By the by, Zvezda has announced that a Prussian SYW Grenadier set will be released sometime this year. If they run true to form, there will be other SYW sets in the pipeline as well. Yah Hoo!

The Renovation Of The Mancave (Basement): Well this project is taking me far too long. I never in my wildest dreams thought that it would take this long. We've had some electric wiring issues in the living room, so all the interior side walls have been taken off so the rewiring can be done. Since all the interior window frames were exposed, SWMBO decided that it would be a good time for replacement windows. Heartfelt Sigh! Goodbye Tax Refund! We hardly knew ye.

Once the finances recover, I hope to rent a ten yard dumpster, and then I can get serious about gutting the rest of the basement and having the War Game Room of my dreams. A place where Victory will always be mine. Where bad Random Events always happen to my opponent and never to me. Where my dice always roll the required number, and my brilliant strategies and tactics never fail. "What is best in life?" "To crush your enemies and drive them before you like dust upon the wind, and to hear the lamentation of their women!" Woof! Well....It's getting late and I guess I'll call it a night. Perchance I'll dream of Von Mack's sucess at the Crooked Kobold and the Duchess' journey to Durance Vile! Cue the Creepy Organ Music as the picture fades to black.

The Running Of The Barrells

2009-02-27T07:00:00.000-08:00

By some Divine Coincidence, the Reich-Ducal visit happened at the same time the Old Raubenstadt Festival tradition of "The Running Of The Barrells" was being held. The Markgraaf took particular delight in telling the Duke and Duchess how the custom had gotten started and how it had evolved over the years, as they took their seats in the stands near the finishline.

"Many years ago, a beer wagon lost its load of full beer barrells at the top of Brewer's Hill, and they careened away down the strasse. Between the people trying to get out of the way of the cascading casks, the apprentices trying to recover the run aways, and the customers of the Inns and Bars lining the road pursuing the barrels for their own purposes, the confusion was severe, to say the least.

After the original incident, there were recriminations and charges flung back and forth between the brewer's, the cooper's, and the hauler's as to who was to blame. So it was decided by the Guildmeisters that an annual competition would be held.

Each cooper would construct a thirty gallon barrel for the race, decorated with his colors and heraldry. Each brewer would fill the barrel with his "Winter Dark" Lager. Each hauler would nominate an apprentice to captain a team of one cooper apprentice and one brewer apprentice armed with wooden prybars to maneuver the barrell down the hill. If the barrel springs a leak, they are eliminated. The first team to get their barrel across the finish line wins bragging rights for their masters until next year's running.

However, each Inn and Bar along Brewer's Strasse is allowed to field a two man team. If they manage to stop a barrell in front of their establishment, it is theirs. In addition, there are the runners who start at the top of the hill. Each runner carries a white scarf tucked into his belt.
If a Inn and Bar team manage to grab the scarf from the belt, the runner is obliged to go to their establishment. Any runner who makes it down the hill, with his scarf, ahead of the barrells gets to drink for free in any establishment for the rest of the day.

Its a rather interesting combination of hockey, luge, curling, football, and tag. Definately not for the weak of heart. Of course, the legend around here is Augustus Sigismund von Barfly, a retired, half-pay Colonel of Barfly's Freicorps. He won the Runner's Competition for five years in a row!

Ah! There's the Noon Gun now! The race has begun. For all its rough and tumble, there are elements of strategy and tactics envolved. Each Barrell Team must hurry, but they cannot lose control of their momentum. They also must not be too far in advance, lest they be intercepted by an Inn and Bar Team.

The Inn and Bar Teams can snatch more scarves if they separate, but it will take both of them to try and stop a barrell, so they cannot get too far apart.

The Runners must stay ahead of the Barrell Teams to win, yet if they get too far out in front, their scarves are easier to pick off."

After a few moments, the rumbling of wooden staves on cobblestones could be heard above the roaring of the crowd. It promised to be a memorable day!

The Beersteiners Are Coming!

2009-02-25T17:23:00.002-08:00

"The Reich-Duke Wilhelm and theDuchess Lydia are coming here. Here to Heidlebeerunberg?!", the Margravine inquired.

"Yes my dear. Otto assures me that everything is under control for the State Visit and that we should pay no attention to the man behind the curtain."

"Did our beloved Prime Minister have that far away, glazed over look in his eye when he said that?"

"Well....he did look sort of frazzled, now that you mention it."

The Margravine closed her eyes and took a deep breath. "I suppose you planned to entertain our guests by hunting at the Lodge during the day and carousing at the local inns at night?"

"Errr....Yes? The Gamemeister said that the grouse are getting too thick, and he finally found where that big boar that got away last Fall has gone. Wouldn't that be a fine centerpiece for a feast? The Brewmeisters said that the Winter Dark is particularly fine this year."

The Margavine again closed her eyes and took another deep breath. "God in Heaven! Men!", and with a snap of her fan, she set sail for the nearest exit, calling for the Meister of Ceremonies.
The last thing he heard as she departed was, "After the Reception, a Ball....that means the Hall Of Mirrors must be readied. The gardens are in good shape....Fireworks! Fireworks launched from the Felsigberg so they reflect in the river! Good! Good! What else now...."

Ever since then the Palace had been at the center of a whirlwind of activity not seen since the Thirty Year's War. Squads of servants opened and aired rooms that had been closed since the Markgraaf's Grandfather had ruled. Companies of maids dusted, mopped, and swept and then dusted, mopped, and swept some more. The cooks planned menues and inspected the cellars looking for rare vintages and casks. Carpenters and tradesmen constantly paraded from the town to the Palace and back again.

The Markgraaf took it all in stride - an island of calm in a frenzied sea. He knew that beneath her facade of long suffering, that the Margravine was enjoying herself immensely already. And why shouldn't she? The Reich-Duke's visit to Raubenstadt would be the first visit of a person of consequence since Wallenstein had come through.

The Markgraaf shuddered. "God spare us from such another visit. Perhaps enough time had passed for the High Nobles to acknowledge that the grandson of a Frei Captain who had taken the Fortress of Felsigberg, had a right to rule, and the threat from Baden-Baden would fade. That would be nice." Then another thought crossed his mind, "I wonder if my boy Andrew, Major Thirst, and Professor Dryasdust will be in the Ducal procession? Herr Krause should be in his service by now. It will be nice to see all of them. With the new Stagonian 'King' nearby, one could not be too careful. Maurice was bad enough, but this Ludwig....from under what rock did he crawl? Von Mack would know...hummm....No one has reported hearing from Von Mack for a couple of weeks now." The Markgraaf wondered what the old horse thief was up to that would keep him from getting in contact or at least sending a message?

With His Shield Or On It!

2009-01-30T20:32:00.000-08:00

The Markgraaf mentally re-read the last line of his son Andrew's most recent letter home. "I hope that both you and Mother approve of my accepting this commission with the Pilsner Horse Grenadiers here in the Reich-Duchy. Father! I will command the Leib Squadron! Your Loving Son, Andrew"

His boys' decision had cause some tension between the Markgraaf and his wife. She felt that a soldiers lot would be far too hazardous; while the Markgraaf felt that if anything unfortunate happened to himself and his oldest son, Wilhelm, that military experience would stand Andrew in good stead. In addition, he would not spend his life waiting for a throne that might never be his.

The Markgraaf refused to send his second son to war with anything less than the best equipment he could afford, yet he didn't want to spoil or pamper his boy with a lot of useless impedimentia at the start of his career. His life might depend on being able to move light and swift. So far, the most important acquisition had been "Medium" Dolf Krause as young Ritter Andrew's servant. Krause, a Sergeant from the Hayburningnag Dragoons, had come with glowing recommendations from Colonel von Straw as a man with good character, high ability, and intelligence. These were characteristics that the Markgraaf prized highly, and he had volunteered to serve in the Markgraaf's Household.

He was of medium heighth, medium build, medium weight, brown hair, and brown eyes. In the prime of life, he had the kind of face with regular features that could get lost in a crowd of three. There was intelligence shining behind those eyes, though. The Markgraaf hoped that the Sergeant's experience would be a good, steady influence as a friend, confidant, body guard, cook, chess opponent, and, if necessary, trigger-finger.

Sergeant....err, Herr Krause would be leading a well turned, nimble footed road horse, a sturdy pack horse, and two Saxon bred cavalry mounts. The horses and their equipment would be lead by easy stages from Raubenstadt to Beerstein. Two other former soldiers/servants would accompany him on the journey on their own nags.

The Markgraaf sent his son a sturdy brass bound travel trunk. Inside, in addition to the spare clothes, were a brass telescope, a Bible, a Letter of Credit, a travel chess set and board, a brown wool cloak lined with silk, and a Cologne-steel forged sword with a scabbard. On one side of the blade, the name Andrew von Meltzer was etched. On the other side, the motto, "Draw With Need. Sheath With Honor." was inscribed.

General Schwillingstaufenstein had given the young Ritter a cased set of silver mounted dueling pistols, complete with powder and ball. He had included his own copy of "The Code Of The Duel", and a note saying, "These muzzles were the last things the Russian Count Vronsky saw on this Earth. Use a light charge of powder with a heavy ball, and mind the hair triggers!"

Given how his wife felt, he was surprised to see her come for Krause's departure. He saw her slip a package of her own into the trunk before it was closed and loaded onto the pack horse. He didn't see her approach Dolf, nor did he overhear their conversation.

Krause doffed his hat as the Margravine drew near. "I will guard your son well, my lady.", he said.

"Perhaps this will help you do so.", she replied.

Dolf looked down to see what she had placed into his hand. A straight, slender, serrated, black bladed, Damascus steel dirk with a brass knuckle bow guard was there in a forearm sheath.

"The handle has a special feature.", she said, as she twisted the pommel and pulled it away to reveal a retractable piano wire garrotte. She let the wire retract back into the handle and twisted the pommel again.

"What was it the Spartan mothers would say to their sons as they marched away, Krause?"

"With your shield or on it, my lady."

"Yes! That was it! Return with your shield or on it. See to it Dolf. See that my son sees to it.
There is another dirk in the chest - twin to yours. See that he learns to use it. ALL of its special features."

Dolf nodded, and tried to ignore the odd feeling in his throat. "Yes, my Baroness. I shall make a point of it." As the Margravine turned away, Dolf wondered what kind of family she had come from, where a dagger would be considered an appropriate coming of age present?

He put his hat back on and mounted the riding horse. His other two companions got upon theirs as well. The General came over and said, "Its a long way to Beerstein, so pace yourself. When you get there tell that young sprig from me that a soldier's life can be a good life, but he takes a soldier's chance along with it. When you see Major Thirst and that reprobate Professor - Dryasdust, tell them, 'Job well done!', and they have the choice of staying in Beerstein or coming home. Whatever they want. Good Luck Sergeant! I shall expect regular reports from you. Godspeed!"

With that, Herr "Medium" Dolf Krause saluted, touched spur to horse, and started the grand adventure that lay before him.

Von Mack Attacks - The Raubenstadt Brief For The Affair Of The Runaway Duchess

2009-01-12T17:47:00.000-08:00

Well....it appears that my little country has stumbled into some of the political shennanigans of some of our neighbors, thanks to our Intelligence Agent Mack The Knife. The situation came up suddenly, and if things work out, it will be resolved at the Seven Year's War Convention in South Bend this March. A four (or more) way tussle to see who gets to control the Runaway Duchess of Saschen-Vindow. Our Fearless Leader Jeff and Der Alte Fritz suggested that each faction write up a situation brief, so the players will have a script to help flesh out some of the roleplaying aspects. So....here's my stab at it:

Erwin von Mack, aka Mack The Knife, is an Intelligence Agent of the small state of Raubenstadt, near Stagonia. (It's so small the joke is that he may be the ONLY Intelligence Agent in the country.) He has learned, perhaps from Duke Peter himself, that the Duchess of Saschen-Vindow is making a ill-considered, mad, UNESCORTED dash to Stagonia. The temptation to engage in some free-lance kidnapping and ransom is just too great for him to resist.

He has "borrowed" a half-troop of Frei-Hussars from Colonel Count Rotten von Pilfering to provide the muscle; then he plotted the Duchess' probable path on a map. Assuming that such a pampered, high-born noble would avoid camping out on the cold, hard ground...."The Crooked Kobold Inn" looked like his best bet to intercept her. His plan is to disguise the Frei-Hussars as Stagonian Customs Police to fool the locals and misdirect anyone who might inquire later. Once the Duchess has been determined to be at the inn, the Frei-Hussars will come trotting in from the direction of the Stagonian border. The idea being that she will be expecting friends to arrive from that direction. The Second Squad will surround the inn to make sure no one slips in or out. The First Squad will break into two sections. The first section will secure the courtyard, the main entrance, and hold the horses of the second section. The second section, under Mack's direction, will enter the inn, proceed to the Duchess' room, and Mack will try to convince her that they are an escort from King Ludwig, but they have to put on a show of "arresting" her for the knaves, louts, and tillers of soil down below in the common room. (His priorities are getting those damned pistols away from her, and getting her to slip on the handcuffs. There will be time enough to disabuse her of the notion that this is all for show later.) If guile fails, and she suspects, then she will have to be overcome the old fashioned way, and every man in her room takes the risk of being shot by the hellcat until she is subdued.

Once she is secured, voluntarily or otherwise, they will ride like the Wild Hunt is after them, back to Raubenstadt, and Devil take the hindmost. To discourage any pursuit, each trooper is equipped with a large bag of caltrops that they will scatter in their wake when it is their turn at rear guard. Anyone who attempts to get in their way will be shot, cut down, trampled, pistol whipped, knifed, strangled, and/or pummeled without mercy. Their ultimate destination is the fortress of Felsigburg, where her fate will be decided.

Unknown to von Mack, his little "smash and grab" operation is about to get very complicated, very quickly, for there are other groups on the prowl for the Duchess. (Oh, how the Gods must be laughing! Wheels within wheels.) Here are the groups and Mack's attitude towards them:

Schinderfranz's Chauffers - Enterprising gentlemen of fortune? If necessary, a deal could be reached. Appeal to their greed. The ransom would be substantial.

de Winter's Black Legion - Her reputation preceeds her and her lackeys, but at least she's not Stagonian. Again, if necessary as a last resort to complete the mission, a temporary alliance could be forged, but double sentries all around to prevent a double cross, until the Duchess is under lock and key.

Stagonians - The only good Stagonian is a dead Stagonian. No deals or alliances will be made with any Stagonian or anybody allied with them. Unfortunately, not every Stagonian is so open about their nationality and/or loyalty. The same goes for Stagonian Allies. So....Mack gets to play one of his favorite games, "Spot The Stagonian". There is only one rule to the game. If there is any doubt, shoot first and let someone else ask the question, because Mack and his men intend to be long gone before the first inquiry is made. Double points are awarded, if the "Spot" is put between the eyes of the suspected Stagonian.

Duke Peter's Loyalist Dragoons - These guys might be useful in a tight spot, if an "understanding of mutual benefit" can be reached!

The Duchess' Rebel Supporters - "OUT OF MY WAY, PECK!" No deals or alliances with these wannabes.

The Local Militia - How dare they meddle in the affairs of their betters! Ride the scum down and push on!

Rowdy Nobles - One warning to stand aside and live, or interfere and die. No deals.

The Inquisition - Are these guys still around?! Most Raubenstadtians are Presbyterians of the Knox/Calvin ilk. KILL THEM ALL if they dare stand before us. NO QUARTER TAKEN OR GIVEN! REMEMBER MAGDEBURG!!!!!!!!!CHARGE!!!!!!!!!

Count l'Beauphaup & Unter Gruntshuffen malcontents - A conditional yesss....to these guys. Try to keep the squinty eyes and calculating looks to a bare minimum.

Witch Hunters/Vampire Slayers - These peasants are just too ignorant to even try to strike a deal. Threaten to turn them into newts or drink their blood as circumstances demand. If they don't break from the threats, kill them and their little dog too.

Friendly Hunters - One warning to stand aside and live, or interfere and die. No deals.

I'm really excited about how this scenario plays out. Though I will not be able to attend the Convention, I hope all the players enjoy themselves. Oh, by the way, Mack's nickname, "The Knife" is just that; a nickname. Even though he carries a large jack knife, and never lets it show a trace of red, I think he enjoys the look of horror on the faces of his victims when he produces the brace of double barrelled, large caliber, horse pistols that are loaded with buck and ball.

"Oh when the shark bites with his teeth, dear, scarlet billows start to spread...."

Well There I Was....

2009-01-07T19:38:00.000-08:00

2009 already?! Didn't we just celebrate this a few months ago? It seems the years go by faster the older I get. Remember as a kid when the seasons lasted long enough that when they changed, you were ready? Hummm....seems there's a warning in there somewhere - like, "Gather ye rosebuds while ye may.", or "Time and tide wait for no man."; or even, "When can we expect payment?".

Oh well then. In keeping with the tradition of the season, here's my wargaming resolutions:

1. Finish off the basement for the wargaming area of my dreams. The Margravine refers to it as "The Man Cave". I envision a massive table for my armies to clash upon. Storage shelves so that my warriors can be displayed when not in use, and my massive book collection can be removed from the cardboard boxes from the garage. Adequate lighting so that I can see what I'm doing. Military themed posters and paintings on the walls. It will be great!

2. Master the digital camera that we got for Christmas , so that I too, may add pictures to the blog. (They really are worth a thousand words and add so much to the postings.)

3. I am grimly determined that 2009 will be the year that I actually go to a Convention, so I can meet some of you characters in person.

4. Try to keep track of how many miniatures I paint this year. I hope that this will spur me to set aside some time each week to reduce that pile of plastic and pewter.

5. Last, but not least, actually try to get some wargaming done!

Good luck in 2009! May your dice never let you down!

Season's Greetings From Raubenstadt

2008-12-17T20:11:00.000-08:00

Now that the Holidays are getting into high gear, with all the decorating, shopping, wrapping, and cooking, I wanted to take a moment and express how much I have enjoyed being a member of this merry band of kindred souls. EvE came into my life at a time when I desperately needed a distraction from reality. For short periods of time I could wander through a different time and place, and have a good laugh now and then.

So....Gentlemen charge your glasses and raise them high for the Markgraaf's Favorite Toast, "To us and those like us! There are damed few left, and most of them are dead!"

Merry Christmas and Happy New Year to You and Yours!

Martin

A Day That Will Be Long Remembered

2008-11-06T07:50:00.000-08:00

While still basking in the afterglow of the Presidential Election, what should arrive in the mail, but my copy of C.S. Grant's, "The Wargame Companion"! After a quick scan of the contents, I am impressed. Once again Mr. Grant delivers the goods in a classic style, as he lets us "peek behind the curtain" into the mechanics and finer details of a Grant-style wargame. Just like "The Wargame", it can be read again and again with just as much enjoyment as the first time.

In addition, the mailbox coughed up Battlegames #14! Huzzah!! Every wargamer should have a subscription to this excellent publication.

Then in a remarkable three for three, there was a package from Historifigs with my first 25mm Scruby Jager Regiment! It just doesn't get better than this!

What's Eating Colonel Stein?

2008-11-02T19:46:00.000-08:00

Colonel "The Terrible" Heinz von Stein was a very worried man, and he had very good reason to be so worried. His little brother, "The Horrible" Horst von Stein had come back, very close to home and he had not been alone. A considerable number of battalions, squadrons, and batteries had marched with him towards the city of Frankfort. Horst had left his native country, Raubenstadt, under a cloud of suspicion for a series of homicides that had advanced him remarkably quickly in rank, for service in foreign parts with the army of Hesse-Homburg about
a year ago. The immediate plan was to get him out of the country and away from vengeful relatives; then he was supposed to die gloriously in battle. This would hush up the entire matter, and give everyone involved plausable deniability as to the fate of Stein the younger.

Unfortunately, as of yet, young Horst had not fulfilled his part of the bargain. To be fair, this was not entirely his fault, since he was unaware that he was supposed to "shuffle off this mortal coil". Not only had he not died gloriously in battle, he had thrived in the Hesse-Homburg service, and had secured further promotions in rank and favor. (We can only wonder what nefarious and perhaps gory deeds had earned him these advancements and considerations, but whatever they were, they appeared to rest lightly on his soul.) Heinz had often wondered if the Homburgers really knew what kind of poisonous asp they had sheltered, as the months wore on and no word of Horst's long hoped for demise arrived.

Now, in addition to his fraternal concerns, the Colonel had received his orders for the campaign against the Prince-Bishop of Spires, and was getting ready to take his regiment, the Truerpfalz Frei Corps into action. It didn't look good. He was absolutely sure the General had never really forgiven him for the eighty piece Sterling Silver Tea Set that had come up missing when the Frei Corps had been the baggage train guard a couple of campaigns ago. Stein's account of a thieving battalion of Croats, that no one else had seen, was a mighty small fig leaf to stand behind, but that was his story and he was sticking to it. According to the General, the tea set had been given to him as a gift by the Russian Czarina for some mysterious service the old fellow had rendered. Ever since then, the General called upon von Stein whenever there was a particularly difficult mission to perform. It was a shame that the set had been melted down. He was sure the fence had cheated him as well. Stein had seen to it personally, that the last of the spoons had gone into the melting pot a couple of days ago, and that the fence was silenced forever. Now the von Stein family estate was free and clear of all debts, for the time being.

Colonel Stein thrust these thoughts aside and assumed the blank, wooden, somewhat stupid mask he wore whenever he reported to the General. As General Schwillingstaufinstein put it, "Colonel Stein, do you know how they hunt tigers in India? No? Well.... they tether a goat in a clearing, then the hunters take their place in some nearby treestands. Now the goat, the silly old thing, doesn't realize that it is being sacrificed, and it begins to bleat because it's thirsty, hungry, or needs to be milked. Eventually, the tiger comes around and while it is busy killing the goat, the hunters have a clear shot, or two, or three at the big kitty. Once they're sure the beast is dead, they climb down from the stands and tell each other lies about how brave they were and were hardly terrorized at all."

"Now your situation is very similar. I'm sending you out on our extreme left flank. Your corps will BE our left flank. No other supporting units will be available for you to fall back on, or call for assistance, if you get into trouble. Your mission is to make the citizens of Gerolburg cower behind their walls. You will be the tiger to their goat, so let some of their bleats for help get away to the Prince-Bishop. Make those peasants and burghers think that your rabble are the advance guard of our mighty host. They are not trained military observers ....so lots of bugle calls, drumming, campfires, and whatever else your fertile imagination suggests. Do you understand Colonel?"

"Yes Sir! But sir, if I let some messengers through, won't the Prince-Bishop respond? Instead of being the tiger I would be the goat!"

"Exactly Stein!", the General cheerily responded. "When the Prince-Bishop and his men come storming up to smite you hip and thigh, and gobble you up, the rest of our army will have an opportunity to hit him on his left flank while he is strung out on the march! This makes him the tiger to our hunters. Dismissed Colonel!"

"It's going to be awfully hard on the goats, sir." Stein said as he saluted and left the command tent.

"The goat should have left my damned spoons alone!", the General whispered to himself.

The Dragoons Have Arrived!

2008-10-09T20:18:00.000-07:00

Those evil, evil men over at Zevzda have just released their Great Northern War Swedish Dragoon Set just in time for the holidays. Their just as evil minions over at the Michigan Toy Soldier and Figure Company have them for sale at $11.99 per box. You get one Officer, one standard bearer, one Bugler, three dismounted Dragoons, three Dragoons firing pistols, and six Dragoons charging with swords. Plastice Soldier Review should have something up soon. They look excellent! I can't wait for the Roadapplegang and the Hayburningnags to take to the field!

Indian Summer

2008-09-16T09:39:00.000-07:00

This is my favorite time of year. The heat and rains of Summer are over. All the crops in the fields are ready to be harvested. The weather is turning cooler, but is not yet cold. Bright sunny days and a bit of a breeze to let the leaves know it's almost time to go, but not yet. It's for days like these that I stay in Indiana. Indian Summer. There was a time, not so long ago, when mention of Indian Summer in this neck of the woods would make a settler's eyes squint, and he'd check the load on his rifle a little more often. Since both sides of that conflict lived so close to the agricultural cycle, a raid by either side before the crops were gathered and stored for Winter, would mean "starving times" in late February and early March, and some hard decisions would have to be made.

Nothing quite that grim around the Meltzer Schloss, though. The two youngest are off to college, and the two oldest are commuting to their jobs. The rennovation of the basement continues. Most of the heavy deconstruction is done, so now I'm taking a look at the decontamination and wiring requirements for the lighting. Visions of a wargaming area shimmer before me, like a glimpse of the Promised Land. I've been pouring through my back issues of Hal Thinglum's (May His Name Be Forever Blessed!) Midwestern Wargamer's Association Newsletter. There are a number of articles in MWAN that have just about everything about building a gaming area. It will be something to have it ready for the first game! I've been good enough for a Digita Camera this year for Christmas.....(Okay, okay! I'm throwing myself on Santa's mercy, but I blame Alte Fritz and his Closet o' Lead, for leading me to acquire my own "Mound o' Plastic".) and maybe I'll be able to post some pictures of the process early next year, if not before. Heh, heh, heh.

Those evil, evil men over at Zvezda with their excellent, reasonably priced, miniatures, and their just as evil minions over at The Perfect Captain, keep tempting me to try out different eras. So between them, most of my disposable income has been disposed of! (See Previous Comment on Mound o' Plastic.) TPC's "Battle Finder" system in particular, is very good, and I foresee a lot of campaigns based around it. Their "Hoplomachia" set of rules for Classical Greek warfare and Zvezda's Greek and Persian miniatures made for an irresistable combination. It remains to be seen how the Greeks fare under the leadership of their Hegemon, Democrates Erronious, against their nemisis, the Persian Satrap, Arses The Extremely Ill-Tempered The Fourth.

While cleaning up the basement, I came across eight unopened boxes of Airfix Napoleonic French Infantry. Who-hoo! (Purchased, stored away, and forgotten more years ago than I like to recall.) Recently, I've been thinking about how my little Imagi-Nation would have fared in the late 18th/early 19th Century. The King of Bavaria and the Grand Duke of Baden-Baden did alright in those tumultous times; so why not the Markgraaf and his descendants?! Hummmm......the painting line is pretty long already, but the vision of seeing the armed might of Raubenstadt in a Napoleonic version it just too hard to resist. The discovery of the Airfix boxes was an omen. (Yes. I admit I have a low sales resistance level and am a compulsive customer too.)

Speaking of Raubenstadt, it's been a while. So let's pop over to the palace grounds and see what's going on:

The Markgraaf and his Chancellor are taking a walk and talking in the formal garden, enjoying the day, while the Margravine and the General play cribbage in a temporary pavillion, so she can keep an eye upon her youngest son who is sailing a model ship (A gift from the Ambassador from Beerstein) in one of the fountains.
"So Otto...How did the first convoy to Frankfort go?"
"About as well as could be expected, My Graaf. No trouble at the borders, or with customs at the city gates, and a minimum of Gallacian 'inspections'. There was only one disturbance worthy of notation. A merchant who rejoices in the name, 'Cut-My-Own-Throat Dilbert, was under the impression that the barrels of salted pork from the village of Bad Ham belonged to him."
"Remarkable. What does Mr. Dilbert do for a living, and how did he receive such an impression?"
"He is, I gather, a vendor of questionable edibles on a stick."
"On a stick, Otto?"
"Yes My Graaf. Deep fried usually, but also served pickled, salted, or jerked. He has quite the reputation as an entrepaneur with low overhead. The barrels were clearly labelled with the village of origin. When the drover's back was turned, Mr. Dilbert, his associates, and two barrels were missing. My Graaf, I doubt that the situation will continue to be this placid."
"Ah Yes. The Germanians will be advancing soon from the Gap. What was the mood in Frankfort?"
"The Gallacians are so increasingly nervous, that they do not notice that the Frankfurters are stealing them blind! My Graaf. We'll try to get another convoy or two into the city before things come apart. I hope that it doesn't boil down to a prolonged seige. Both sides won't stay on their own side of the Main, if it's a long campaign. They'll be looking for supplies."
"Yes...Mr. Dilbert may be reduced to selling Rats on a Stick and still be making a profit. I'll notify the General that we'll have to look to our North. Brigadier von Klunker, the Grenadiers, and the Fusiliers will set out day after tomorrow. Perhaps showing the flag, with a bit of muscle behind it will be enough to discourage any foragers. I hope that with most of the Army dispatched to the South to deal with the Prince-Bishop of Spires, that we aren't in a cleft stick, Otto."
"Yes, My Graaf."
Concealing all traces of concern, the Markgraaf of Raubenstadt turned and shouted, "Ahoy there Admiral! How many bad pirates have you hung from the mainmast?"

Reality Intrudes

2008-08-17T16:16:00.000-07:00

Where does the time get off to? I can't believe the last time I posted was back in the middle of June! My apologies to the entire group. I've really enjoyed seeing what everybody has been working on - gaming, painting, background stories, plot lines, and my occasional pithy comments. So what's been going on in this neck of the woods? Well, the gutting of the basement after the flood goes slowly, but it is going. I managed to sprain an ankle, while hauling some of the wooden framing upstairs. This, of course, slowed down the project even more. On the other hand, I got to do my Robert Newton/Long John Silver impression to my captive audience, as I tottered around on a pair of crutches. "Arrgh Jimlad! Who be the swab what put all this furniture in my way? Arrgh!" Sigh. Everyone's a critic.

Will and Drew, my two oldest boys, went to GenCon in Indy yesterday, and they brought back a ton of Sci/Fi and Fantasy stuff. (Two large bags and a knapsack loaded to the brims!) They had a great time this weekend and I understand that attendance was up from last year. Even the Indianapolis Symphony Orchestra was getting into the mood. On Friday night they played a program based on selections of video game music. The boys enjoyed it quite a bit . I hope so. I understand that GenCon has filed for bankruptcy and the possibility of any future Cons being held is "iffy" at best. What a shame if it is true. It was nice having a major Con close to home, even if historical miniatures and games were next to non-existant. You never can tell when a clever game mechanism might rear its head, and be utilized by historical gamers. (Heh, heh, heh!)

Once I was able to hobble down the hallway and get to the computer desk, I spent a lot of time cruising the net. There is a lot of interesting topics and stuff out there. One of the sites this group might be interested in is www.blueherronmercantile.com. They're a company that makes reenactment supplies and equipment. Click on to their "resources" section, and then on to their "links", and you will be introduced to the world of reenactors. Tons of information about the FIW, SYW, ARW, 1812, Civil War, etc.. Lots of pictures of uniforms, flags, historic locations. A lot of good stuff for wargamers to use. If you get a chance, check them out.

I see that Captain Bill has set to sea, so I'll close this post with a hearty, "Darby M'graw! Darby M'graw! Fetch aft the rum Darby!"

Flooding and Reinforcements

2008-06-18T07:21:00.000-07:00

Well....with all the rain we've been having, I suppose it was bound to happen sooner or later. Our power went out during a heavy rainstorm, which meant that the basement sump pump stopped, and the water came rolling in like an artisian fountain. It was nothing like those poor souls in Iowa, Wisconsin, and Illinois are enduring, but it was bad enough. The worst of it was most of my wargaming stuff got soaked and drying it out may take a while. The scenic items took the worst of it (Cardboard buildings and Lichen trees), and it looks like I'll be rebasing a lot of miniatures, which means there might be repainting (Sigh!). On the other hand, I get to gut the entire basement and start over (After installing a battery powered back-up sump pump). The inspiration of an "Alte Fritz" like gaming area keeps shimmering before me like a glimpse of the Promised Land. Raubenstadt will arise from the primordial slime, better, stronger, faster than it was before!

On a happier note, I took Mr. Bill McHenry's advice and latched onto ten boxes worth of Zeveda's "Great Northern War" Swedish Infantry. The Squadron Mail Order guys were having a sale, and the addition of 430 new recruits has cheered the Markgraaf significantly. These are some great figures! Check them out on Plastic Soldier Review. Russian Infantry (The Opposition) are also available (They have no turnbacks and can be used to represent troops well into the 18th Century). Swedish Dragoons and Russian Artillery are scheduled to be released sometime this year. So there are Horse, Foot, and Guns in the works and I'm excited. I'm still waiting for my first Scruby light infantry unit, the Grunwald Jagerkorps, to arrive from HistoriFigs, but since I've waited decades for these guys, a few more weeks is nothing.

So....it's on with the rubber boots and breathmasks. Fire up the wet/dry vac. Break out the bleach and spray bottles. Where did I put that crowbar?

Meanwhile...In The Fortress of Felsigberg

2008-04-30T17:18:00.000-07:00

"The Margravine? She has a merry brightness about her that is hard to describe. No wait! It's the same kind of look the rabbit sees before the hawk's talons close."

Otto von Weisenheimer,
Chancellor of Raubenstadt

After his meeting with the Markgraaf, von Mack was summoned to a meeting with the Margravine. Between the two, he considered the second meeting far more important. He still in his heart, thought of her as Baroness Sharon von Kerns and not the Margravine von Meltzer. The von Kerns were a very old, established noble family; so old in fact, that rumor had it that as the glaciers retreated, the von Kerns moved in.

This rumor might have been inspired by the fourteen foot tusk of some ancient beast that a Kerns ancestor had found and put on display in their family castle. A casual observer might not notice that if a person was thrown from the balcony, they stood a pretty good chance of being impaled. Her father, Ernst the Elder, like all the von Kerns had a vivid imagination, and "riding the tusk", was a special punishment he reserved for any who had betrayed his trust. Von Mack knew for a fact that not all the encrusted blood on the tusk was ancient.

He was drawn out of his reverie, when the gates of the Fortress Felsigberg closed behind him, and the officer escorting him to the Baroness could not be drawn into conversation. The Felsigberg! Von Mack had never been this close before, and he always hoped it would be as an invited guest with an exit pass, as opposed to those who were not! While not the grimmest place in the Germanies, von Mack rated it in the top five. It had always been an imposing pile of stone, and the "modern" improvements that George Fredrick, the First Markgraaf, had made when it was his base of operations a generation ago, had not softened the edges. No. The business of the Felsigburg was intimidation, and it was doing a pretty good job.

His escort stopped and knocked upon a door. It opened and the officer motioned for von Mack to enter. As the door closed behind him and his eyes adjusted to the light, he bowed before her. He was struck by the dazzling combination of her red hair and fair complexion. As he straightened and looked into her snapping brown eyes, he remembered that she had also inherited the Kerns temper, and that the red hair was no lie, and a warning to those who had the wit to heed.

"My husband suspects that his riding accident was no accident, but he has no proof. Without proof he will not act. If Maurice of Stagonia's agents were involved, you and I know that proof will not be found. The Vile King has threatened my family by this action. This will not be tolerated. He is too well guarded and suspicious to strike directly, so he and his agents must be distracted while the campaign against Spires is conducted and concluded."

Von Mack nodded his understanding, and the Baroness continued, " I leave the details up to you as to how to achieve this goal, but I want you to start with this." She handed him a folded note. "Have this printed, smuggled into Stagonia and distributed as far and as wide as you can." Mack the Knife unfolded the note and read, "Pity poor Maurice! His plots go round and round. How uneasy are his people, when Madness wears a Crown!"

"Yes Baroness. That ought to keep him chasing his own tail and jumping at shadows for some time," von Mack replied, "and who knows, it might just spark an uprising, if his reprisals are too severe."

"My son Wilhelm is going to war. Do you have the pistols?"
"Yes, My Baroness."
He brought the case out from under his arm and opened it for her inspection. "Your father's pistols. Ernst was a man who believed in giving himself every advantage.", he said as he pulled out one of the matched set. "Double barrelled, .62 caliber. This one has the right barrel rifled. The left one - smoothbore. The other one has two smoothbore barrels. I have taken the liberty of casting the balls, crosscutting the tops, placed a bit of arsenic soaked paper and raw onion in each cut, and recrimped them. If he doesn't kill his target outright, any wounds he inflicts will be fatal."

"Thank you. You have always been a loyal friend to me and mine." The Margravine whispered.
Von Mack would have sworn that there were tears shining in her eyes as he bowed and kissed her proffered hand. Maurice of Stagonia would pay a fearsome price.

On The Edge Of The Verge Of The Cusp Of The Tipping Point

2008-03-07T10:54:00.000-08:00

"No one is totally useless. They can always serve as 'The Bad Example'."

General Ritter Hugo von Schwillensaufenstein

Otto Weisenheimer, the Chancellor of Raubenstadt, looked down at the piece of paper in his hand. As he had foreseen the Prince-Bishop had refused to return the disputed territories. There would be no further negotiations on the matter. A declaration of war would be the next step. He didn't know if he was happy or sad. Happy because he had served his lord well, or sad because of the loss of life that was bound to happen as a result of his actions. He went to see the Markgraaf.

He found him closeted with the General and a fellow he did not know. "Come in Otto. We were just about to send for you anyway!. This is Herr von Mack. He's an old friend of the von Kerns. The Margravine trusts him completly. We suspect that Stagonian provocateurs were involved in my "accident" back in January. Von Mack is going to try and get us some proof that "King" Maurice was involved. He may need some assistance from yourself or your office to help flush them out. Good luck with your fishing Herr von Mack." Von Mack bowed and left the room. Otto had a vision of von Mack following his trail, and involuntarily shuddered at the thought.

"Tell me Otto, what do you know of the vile Stagonian?", the Markgraaf asked. "Vile is indeed the word, my Lord." the Chancellor responded. "There was never much love lost between Raubenstadt and Stagonia. A distant cousin of your father's was killed in one of Maurice's convoluted plots, before he declared himself to be King. Your father blamed Maurice and severed all political relations with the Stagonian." "How many Stagonian barges have had trouble on the river recently?" "Seven, my Lord. They were carrying mundane cargo for the most part, but we did find uniforms on board all of them that do not match any worn by the Stagonian Army. Further inquiries provided matches for the Duchy of Stollen, Hesse-Homberg,
Frankzonia, and some postage stamp sized place down South called, 'The Pressipality'. We can only assume that these are all some part of another of his insane plots."

"Do you think my 'accident', might be Maurice's way of protesting the loss of so many barges?" the Markgraaf asked. "It's very hard to tell what the madman is thinking at any time my Lord, but I have another, more pressing matter. The Prince-Bishop has refused." He handed the message to the Markgraaf. The general said, "Our army is ready. Everything is in place. We can begin operations immediately."

"Not yet General. Not yet." The Markgraaf turned back to his Chancellor. "Otto, send the declaration of war to the Prince-Bishop. General, operations will begin twenty-four hours later. Gentlemen I will not keep you from your duties any further." Otto returned to the Chancellory to put the finishing touches on the declaration. The general returned to his headquarters.

As he rode back, the angrier he got. By the time he had returned, he had worked himself up into a towering rage. The Markgraaf endangered by unseen agents of Stagonia?! The General's aides stood silently by while the old soldier swore for twenty minutes, in a variety of languages, using colorful anatomical impossibilites, and never once repeated himself, while slowly turning an interesting shade of purple. "...unnatural spawn resulting from relations with a Cod Fish! He's worse than that fellow who thinks he's a Lobster. By the Powers! If I thought "Graf" Maurice had a speck of honor left, I'd call him out for pistols at dawn! I'd shoot out his left eye, and he'd spend the rest of the day looking up at the sky out of the right one and seeing nothing!" No one in the Headquarters Tent doubted him. The General's vision was still excellent and his duelling pistols had been fitted out with hair triggers. Schwillensaufenstein was no stranger to the Field of Honor and was still alive to tell the tale. Not everyone he had confronted could say the same.

"Double all the guards at once. Nobody gets in or out without a signed pass from me. Heaven have mercy on anyone who let them get so close, for I shall have none!" Each sentence was punctuated by a large beefy fist pounding the table. "If they are still hanging around to see how successful they were, or to try again, there is a small chance that we might catch them. If any suspects are captured alive, tell Cyril the Blade to fire up the coals, I may have some business for him. A 'St. Petersburg Special With A Ginger Beer Twist' ought to do the trick. Beer....Somebody bring me a beer! Swearing is thirsty work." It was at this moment of monumental bad timing that Heinz von Stein, Colonel of the Truerpfalz Freicorps entered the tent, came to attention, and said, "You wanted to see me, Sir? If this is an inconvienent time, I could come back later."

Busy, busy, busy days for Raubenstadt

2008-03-04T08:08:00.000-08:00

"Your average citizen of Raubenstadt is a little bit above average."

Otto von Weisenheimer

It had been a very busy time for the Chancellor. The Markgraaf had directed him to strengthen the nation's alliances, tend to the daily routine of government, and ....oh yes! come up with a plausable excuse to declare war on the Prince-Bishop of Spires. The first two fell within his normal duties. It was the third mission that made for long days and restless nights. Oddly enough the solution presented itself after a couple of late nights stareing at a large map that Otto had nailed to the wall. (Otto hated maps. He felt that they gave the observer a false Godlike sense of scale. A sweeping journey to the farthest reaches of the back of beyond, could be easily achieved; when the reality was even the shortest of expeditions could be fraught with dangers and hardships.)

Like most political problems of the present, the cause lay in the past. When Raubenstadt came to be, George Frederick, the first Markgraaf, could only consolidate so much of the Kurpfalz. The more distant territories from Heidlebeerenburg had been absorbed by the neighboring states. Among those states was the Bishopry of Spires. Otto was convinced that whenever the Markgraaf desired, a missive (or better yet, a Messenger - no paper trail) could be sent that would demand the return of the splintered provinces that had fallen into his sphere of influence. Of course the Prince-Bishop would refuse and the Markgraaf could declare war whenever he pleased. All together Otto counted ten territories that once belonged to the Kurpfalz that the Markgraaf could use as a fig leaf for a "justified war". If the cause was in the past and the problem in the present, the resolution was in the future....the very near future. It was time to set the machinery in motion.

It had been a very busy time for Ritter Hugo. There was the coming campaign to plan, the reports to send and to receive, troop movements, and the other thousand and one things to do before the first weapon was fired. The regiments that had been selected for special tasks had been rehearsing them. It was a toss up as to who was the busiest. The Engineers had been corderoying the roads to the border, strengthening bridges over the streams and rivers for the artillery and wagons, and last but not least, digging fieldworks along the fords of the Kretch River. The General was concerned that the sounds of axes hewing trees and shovels scrapping against the cold earth could be heard for miles, but it was a risk he had to take.

The Supply Train had been convoying supplies for the campaign to the advanced depots, and bringing back enough food and materials so that, if necessary, Heidlebeerenburg could withstand a seige. Even the Bargemen on the Rubberneckar had inspected their vessels, and had been busy making any repairs. The Cavalry had been taking turns escorting the supply trains and patrolling the borders. The Spires military had made no scouting efforts, so far, but the constantly roving patrols gave the junior officers a chance to exercise their men and mounts before the main effort.

That left the "Exploring Officers" and their reports. Ritter Hugo had trusted this delicate task to mostly the Artillery and the most experienced Light Cavalry Officers. They were now just returning from their missions, or couriers from the ones sent deeper into Spires. Things were looking up. Even as busy as they had been, the General's aides had remarked upon the deep sense of satisfaction when the General was overheard murmuring to himself, "Heinz, Heinz, Heinz....you should have left my spoons alone!"

The sense of urgency did not stop at the Chancellor's or General's either. The Markgraaf himself was wishing that there were more hours in the day. There was so much to do in so little time. Something was bound to be overlooked or slip. Slip....The memory of Vociferous rolling onto him flashed through his mind. Thank God it was only a wrenched knee from that damned deerstag.
Stag...Stagonia. Maurice of Stagonia. A ruler so twisted he didn't need two mirrors to see his back. Could agents of Vile Stagonia have been behind the "accident" on the road? He didn't recall seeing any suspicious characters lurking about, but between the pain of his knee, concern for his horse, and the panicked reaction of the escort, he didn't have the best view of the circumstances.

"Bueller!", the Markgraaf shouted for his Personal Secretary. "Buellllller! Ah! There you are Ferris. For a moment there I thought it was your day off. Would you be so kind as to inform the Markgravine that I'm going to need her connection to von Mack the Knife? Thank you Ferris."

It was little known in Raubenstadt that the Markgraaf's in-laws, the von Kerns' had developed a network of horsetraders (horsethieves), wholesale businessmen (Innkeepers who's merchandise "just fell off the wagon".), and itinerate wanderers (Tinkers and Gypsies). The reason it was so little known, was the fact it was a closely guarded State Secret. His father, John Henry the Second Markgraaf, had always warned him about having any dealings with Stagonia. So... It would be best to approach this with an organization that had plenty of cut-outs. Yesss...Mack the Knife would do nicely.

The Markgraaf sighed. I must remember to have a word with Otto and Hugo about our internal security.

Meanwhile on the Spires bank of the Kretch River, a hussar of the Prince-Bishop wades out into the shallows, while the Sergeant and the rest of the patrol reined in their horses. "Hey Sarge! Look at this!", the soggy soldier splashed back to the shore, clutching a branch of wood in one hand. "Feldman!", the sergeant said in an annoyed voice. "Are you bucking for corporal? Schmit get a fire going before the damn fool freezes." The private showed the noncom the larger end of the branch. "Sarge.....this was sawn off!", he whispered urgently. "What does it mean?"

These Are So Cool!

2008-02-15T13:04:00.000-08:00

Well.......I think I'm excited. The Post Office just delivered my first batch of Scruby Miniatures! More years ago than I care to recall, I spent many a happy hour pouring over ol' Jack's catalog, planning my miniature hordes in all the historical epochs. Unfortunately economic reality reared it's ugly head, and most of those cherished dreams (or delusions) remained only dreams; so my collection of genuine Scrubys was always very small, but remained the heart of my armies.

Time and tide rolled on, and I moved onto to other miniature lines. The plastic ones in particular were a good compromise between price, detail, and ease of painting. The well-thumbed catalog fell apart, and I remember reading in the Courier of Mr. Scruby's passing. I thought my opportunity to eventually order more went with him.

Jack may be gone, but thanks to the good folks at HistoriFigs of Portage WI, the moulds and his castings live on. I am now the proud owner of a Grant/Young SYW regiment of "True 25mm" Scrubys! There was hardly any flash to clean up. They painted up just as well as the Midieval figures of my youth. The detail may not be up to modern standards, but my eyesight isn't what it used to be either. I figure that since I'll be looking at the whole unit from about 3-4 feet away, all the detail would be lost anyway. (And there's the fact that I am a much better painter than I was back then too! HA HA.) (Of course, it's a good thing that bar was set pretty low.)

The really neat thing is that they match up very well with my hordes of Revell, Hat, Italeri, and Zevda miniatures. Huzzah! One regiment down. Brigades! I must have Brigades! (Creepy organ music swells to a cresendo, as the picture fades to black.)

Yours,

Martin

At The Palace Review - The Plot Thickens (Or Starts To Curdle)

2008-02-03T11:43:00.000-08:00

"In the darkest of times, hope is the gift that you give to yourself."

Sharon Elaine, Margravine of Raubenstadt

The cold Winter wind made the bare limbs of the trees look like waving skeletal hands. "God! There's a depressing thought.", the Markgraaf sighed. The parade ground had been swept of the snow, and the skies had seen fit not to deposit any more upon the ground. The combined music of the Regimental Bands helped banish most of the cold, as the Grand Review got underway. Everyone who had accepted the Markgraaf's Thaler, would march past the stand and look upon the Markgraaf, as he would look upon them. This was the last of the reviews and parades the Markgraaf would attend personally. He had been from one end of the nation to the other; to every city and town. He went to meet the people, hear their concerns, and whip up their enthusiam for his continued rule over them. Today would be the capstone of all those efforts. By the end of today's parade, he would know if his people were ready for whatever lay ahead.

The columns of infantry methodically swung onto the review field. There was something hypnotic about the rythmic marching of the battalions; each man subordinating himself to a greater purpose. Of the Infantry he had no doubts, with the possible exception of Stein's Freicorps of course. "'The Farmer', they call me.", he thought, "Well By Thunder my boys will go into battle with solid shoes, warm uniforms, good muskets, full bellies, and enough supplies to make sure that they stayed that way." He had seen first hand some of the shockingly bad equipment the "Greater Powers" had issued to their armies. Shoes that would fall apart after the shortest of marches. Uniforms and blankets so threadbare, straw could be shot through the material with little or no hinderance. Muskets so rusted and unreliable the barrel would burst if given a full charge of powder, if the lock didn't fall apart first. Rations so bad that even a starving beggar would refuse to eat them.

There had been a pretty lively discussion as to where in the order of the Review the cavalry would parade. General Schwillensaufenstein suggested that they start off first. Brigadier General von Kerns of the Guards, pointed out that the infantry had spent a lot of time polishing their shoes, and that they would spend a lot more time cleaning them up, if the cavalry went first, due to the "hazzards" that would be left behind by the thundering herds. Ever advocating the spirit of compromise, the Markgraaf declared that the infantry would preceed the cavalry, and that the cavalry would preceed the artillery, the engineers, and the supply train; since all those branches had horses of their own and would be used to stepping around any deposits that had been made by any mounted units that had gone before.

Unlike the infantry, the cavalry was a different matter for the Markgraaf. Management of mounted soldiers had never come easy for him. Like all gentlemen he could sit upon a horse and not look like a sack of flour, but he never achieved the natural easy grace that his children all exhibited from an early age. "Cavalry is an expensive, yet fragile branch of the service.", he thought, as the horsemen clattered by. "Horses are so necessary on the battlefield, yet vulnerable to so many diseases and use in service." He had done the best he could for them. Raubenstadt was not Saxony and it's plains. "If they can scout, charge at a canter in the face of the foe, and not go hareing off the battlefield, I can expect no more of them."

The Artillery, the Engineers, the Supply Train, and the Army Staff all passed in review, as the Brigadiers urged their men to cheer. The bands played martial tunes, with lots of trumpet calls and drum flourishes, as the Colors were trooped. Unknown to the soldiers on the field, the most significant event was reached on the reviewing stand. The Markgraaf had his answer. Raubenstadt was ready to follow him to whatever end. For him the parade was over. Ritter Hugo looked very pleased with the result, but of course the old soldier lived for these moments.

As the last of the troops paraded by, going back to their barracks, the Margavine turned to her brother, Ernst, Brigadier of the Gard Brigade, and said, "I'm going to have the Devil's own time trying to keep Wilhelm out of all this." She gestured with her hand in a vague way towards the retreating soldiers. "Now, now, sister dear. The boy is what? Fifteen? Old enough to be an Ensign! He'll want to see some action. They all do at that age. All Blood and Thunder, until they see real blood and see a battle." Seeing that his casual remarks were not having a calming effect upon his sister, he hastened to add, "I'm sure that his father will tuck him away in a Staff position. Close enough to see and hear the action, but far from any danger." "He had better.", she replied, with a look that boded ill for someone, if she did not get her way.

At that moment the Markgraaf hobbled across the review stand. While going to Seckingheim on an inspection, a stag had unexpectedly dashed across the road, startling Vociferous, the Markgraaf's horse. As the horse reared up, a rear hoof slipped in the muddy road, and much to the escort's horror, fell and rolled onto the Markgraaf's left leg. The soft ground prevented any broken bones, but the severe bruising, wrenched knee, and the sprained ankle were enough to keep the Markgraaf off his feet and recuperating for three weeks. At least now, the crutches were a thing of the past, and a cane with the occasional grimmace were the only reminders of the incident. Ritter Hugo saluted as the Markgraaf took the arm of his lady and escorted her to the waiting coach that would take them back to the Palace.

Even though Winter still held the countryside in it's grasp, there were many preparations to be made. The old general went over them in his mind as he and his escort rode back to Headquarters. "Time to send the light cavalry out to the border with Spires, and get the 'Exploring Officers' on their missions.", he thought. He was especially looking forward to briefing Col. von Stein on his crucial part in the Spring Campaign. He hoped that by Summer the Prince-Bishop of Spires would be reduced to the bare necessities that a Man of God required.

The Markgraaf's Hunting Lodge

2008-01-12T13:05:00.000-08:00

"There comes a time in the life of every politician, when the Ruler they serve wants to, 'meet the people'. During this time, it is important for the politician to stress to the Ruler, as often as is necessary, the procedure is -HOLD the baby and SHAKE the hand- not the other way around."

Otto von Weisenheimer

Chancellor Weisenheimer had been summoned to the Markgraaf's hunting lodge, just outside of Heidlebeerenburg. Normally, the new Markgraaf met with the Chancellor in his offices, so such an unusual request made him wonder what was in the wind. The cavalry officer in charge of the escort had offered no hints.

As he was quickly shown inside and upstairs to the Markgraaf's quarters, he noticed that the Markgraaf was not alone. General Schwillensaufenstein, the Army Commander, was also here, and was making sweeping gestures at a map on the wall. "Gott in Himmel," he thought, as he shrugged off his greatcloak and handed it to a servant, "They've been looking at maps again!" As the servant put away the cloak and handed him a hot drink, Otto heard the General say, "Styles himself, 'The Lion of Baden', the arrogant bastard. He's some Franco/Scoto/Irisho refugee, and nobody knows how tight a leash Louis has him on. But one thing is for damned sure. He's recruiting every peasant that might be able to learn his right from his left, and he's getting them into uniforms and carrying muskets as soon as they arrive from Paris. In addition, our report says he's hiring mercenaries....and offering them land!"

The Markgraaf nodded and continued to sip at the stein in his hand. The general turned from the map and said, "My Lord, our country was established under your Grandfather. We had stability under your Father. But if this Duc decides to come our way, he will be looking for easy conquests. I don't know if we will be able to fend him off given our present strength. My Lord, we must expand both our army and our territory, and you know what that means."

"Thank you General. You have given us much to mull over. I will get in touch with you soon. In the meantime, I want to talk to Otto." "My Lord." the General replied, bowed, and left the room. The Markgraaf pointed to the chair opposite his, and the Chancellor gratefully sank down into it. "Otto, how strong are our alliances?" "The Hesse's will support us as long as we don't need their support. Wurttenburg and Baveria will use us as a screen to see which way the threat will develop. The Swiss will go with the highest bid, and the Duke of Baden will use any excuse to reclaim the Kurpfalz." "The times are unsettled, my old friend, but when have they not been unsettled? eh?. We will need friends, Otto. Good friends that will be willing to come to our aid if necessary. See what you can do and let me know your progress."
"Yes My Lord." The Chancellor rose from the chair and prepared to take his leave, while the Markgraaf stared into the room's fireplace. "Otto? One more thing. I want to meet the people."

The Army of Raubenstadt

2007-12-23T12:31:00.000-08:00

Here follows a listing of the stout-hearted Raubenstadtians, "who ha' wi' Markgraaf bled..."
Read 'em and weep (or snigger)!

I. Infantry

A. Markgraaf's Eigen Gard - Colonel Martenet von Drillmeister

B. Waxenbuff Musketeer Regiment - Colonel Victor von Groundpounder

C. Spitzen Polish Musketeer Regiment- Colonel Rusty von Eisenkopf

D. Achingfuss Musketeer Regiment - Colonel Raw von Blister

E. Futile Fusiliers Regiment - Colonel Fatal von Hangfire

F. Truerpfalz Freicorps Regiment - Colonel "The Terrible" Heinz von Stein

G. Ulster Jagers Regiment - Colonel "Jumpin'" Jack Flash

II. Cavalry

A. Platterhoof Kurassiere Regiment- Colonel Frothing von Sawreins

B. Knackerbound Karabiniers Regiment- Colonel Skinner von Butcher

C. Hayburningnag Dragoons Regiment- Colonel Baylen von Straw

D. Roadapplegang Dragoons Regiment - Colonel Meadow von Muffin

E. Pilfering Freihussars Regiment - Colonel Rotten von Pilfering

III. Artillery

A. Schotenschall Foot Battery - Colonel Sluggo von Slugger

B. Belchenfire Foot Battery - Colonel Pumpin der Rounds

C. Klipenklop Horse Battery - Colonel Galloper von Trittrot

IV. Engineers

A. Grubenarbeiter Engineers - Colonel Picken der Shovel

B. Pontoons und Pioniers - Colonel Axen der Saw

V. Train

Seventeen wagons. One assigned to each regiment.

Organization is as in Charles Grant's "The Wargame". The figures are RSM 25mm.

Since the Markgraaf does not yet have access to digital technology (Note to self, must remember to try the the ol' brick with a note tied to it through a window ploy.) pictures will not be available until sometime in the nebulous future. I don't want to leave anybody hanging (A most enlightened attitude for an 18th Century Robber Baron.) , so here are some descriptions of some of the more long-service units in the service of Raubenstadt and some of their regimental histories:

The Waxen Musketeer Regiment - Due to their buff facings, they are more commonly known as the "Waxenbuffs". They have a Brownish-Red coat, with Buff cuffs, lapels, collar, and turnbacks. Black Tricorne with white trim. Buff waistcoat and breeches. Black gaiters, and very, very shiny brass buttons. This regiment is known for their ability to have shiny buttons, no matter how long they have been in the field. Best Regimental Action So Far: Ruthlessly repelled a series of invasions, locally known as the "Amish Incursions". They are still standing by to repel the rumored "Menace From The Mennonites"!

The Spitzen Polish Musketeer Regiment - Bright Scarlet coat. White cuffs, lapels, collar, and turnbacks. Black Tricorne with white trim. White waistcoat. Brown breeches. Black gaiters with silver buttons. Best Regimental Action So Far: Under the command of Col. Eisenkopf, they dug out, crushed, and ground down the emerging Salt Mine Worker's Union. This action earned the regiment their reputation for being "well seasoned" campaigners.

The Truerpfalz Freicorps - Black coat. White cuffs, lapels, collar, and turnbacks. Black tricorn with white trim. White waistcoat and breeches. Black gaiters with brass buttons. Best Regimental Action So Far: These guys? Not a chance! They are serious contenders for the title, "Worst Soldiers in Europe". Worst Regimental Action So Far: At the Battle of Halfwitz, "The Terrible" Heinz von Stein and the Freicorps he supposedly commands, "lost" the General's baggage. The fact that the General later found some personal items among the troops might explain their selection for being the only unit in the rearguard in the subsequent Defeat at Thickwitz, and the lack of support they received in the disasterous Retreat from Lackwitz. (Don't even ask about what happened to them at the Fiasco at The Bridge of Dimwitz! However, it is recorded that the General did recover most of his property, when the Freicorps straggled back across the bridge, once a couple of cannons were brought to bear and the command, "Drop the Swag!"was given.)

The Ulster Jagers Regiment - Green coat. Black cuffs, lapels, collar, and turnbacks. Black Tricorne with black trim. Black waistcoat. Green breeches. Black gaiters with silver buttons. Best Regimental Action So Far: Under the command of Col. "Jumpin'" Jack Flash, they rolled stones down a mountain pass, triggering an avalanche that destroyed an enemy column below. According to Sgt. K. Richards, "I know it was only rock and roll, but I liked it." Since most of the Jagers hail from Northern Ireland, they are also known as the "Mick Jagers". Due to his fierce reputation, no one will duel with Col. Flash - so he don't get no satisfaction.

One of my favorite characters in Raubenstadt is "The Terrible" Heinz von Stein, the worst soldier in the Markgraaf's service. His reputation started in a downward spiral many years ago, when I came across a book of humorous verse that belonged to my grandfather. It is a cautionary tale of what can happen when a proper reconaissance is not conducted. I give you:

The Legend of Heinz Von Stein

Out rode from his wild, dark castle,
The terrible Heinz von Stein;
He came to the door of a tavern
And gazed on its swinging sign.

He sat himself down at a table,
And growled for a bottle of wine;
Up came with a flask and a corkscrew
A maiden of beauty divine.

Then, seized with a deep love longing,
He uttered, "O damosel mine,
Suppose you just give a few kisses
To the valorous Ritter Von Stein!"

But she answered, "The kissing business
Is entirely out of my line;
And I certainly will not begin it
On a countenance as ugly as thine.

Oh, then the bold knight was angry,
And cursed both coarse and fine.
He asked, "How much is the swindle
For your sour and nasty wine?"

"The bag at your hip, for the service and tip,
Which will be hefty for wasting my time,
Or my seven brothers true and a mastiff or two
I'll set on the Ritter von Stein!"

Then fiercely he rode back to the castle
And sat himself down to dine;
And this is the dreadful legend
Of the terrible Heinz Von Stein.

Welcome To Raubenstadt - Part Three

2007-12-21T08:53:00.000-08:00

"The man who can dance has an advantage. The man who dances well is dangerous."

Ritter Hugo von Schwillensaufenstein

Since its founding, Raubenstadt has grown and flourished. The fact that the French had come through and kicked the stuffing out of the region was a great aid to George Frederick, the first to take the title of Markgraaf, and his band of followers in expanding their landgrab from their original starting point of the town of Heidlebeerenburg. To be fair though, the Markgraaf did offer stability, a reasonable tax rate, and ran off (or absorbed) competing gangs, so the burghers and peasants could go about their business. The local economy is booming and trade routes that had been disrupted by the war have been re-established. The only major difference now is that the profits flow into the coffers of the Markgraaf instead of the Duke of Baden's.

We now fast forward to sometime approaching the middle of the 18th Century. The rough and tumble turbulence of the Thirty Years War has been replaced by a peace that has held (for the most part) in the region. The long and mostly peaceful reign of John Henry, the second Markgraaf has come to an end. A new Markgraaf now rules in Raubenstadt. My cast of characters are:

Martin Jacobus von Meltzer: Currently the third Markgraaf. He is the second son of John Henry. His older brother John Henry II refused the title and opted for the life of a recluse.
He is nearsighted and has not yet reached the point where curiousity outweighs vanity. He only wears his spectacles in private. To the people, he is known as "The Farmer", because of his grim determination to diversify his country's main exports - cabbage and hogs. (All that German saurkraut and sausage has to start from somewhere!) His experiments with trying to find a market for casks of "Raubenstadtian Special Fermented Cabbage Brew", could only be labeled "unfortunate", since the common name for it is "Skunk Sauce", and in the vulgar, "What in the name of God crawled in there and died?". He is an excellent dancer.

Sharon Elaine von Meltzer: In addition to being the Markgraaf's wife, she holds the title Baroness Kerns in her own right. Three sons and a daughter she has borne, so the succession is secure. Rumor has it, that far from just being the velvet glove upon the arm of the Markgraaf, she is the iron fist, and a force not to be underestimated.

Chancellor Otto von Wisenheimer: A holdover from the previous reign. He has the total trust and confidence of the current Markgraaf. He keeps the Landtag in line with the Markgraaf's policies. Runs the day to day operations of government that enables the Markgraaf to enjoy his gardens, manage his orchards, breed his livestock, and.... oh yes! supervise the military. The people call him, "Otto, the Long Suffering".

General Ritter Hugo von Schwillensaufenstein: Anytime the forces of Raubenstadt need to take the field and the Markgraaf is not available to lead them in person, the general is in charge. As a matter of fact, the general is in charge of all things military. A soldier of the Old School, his popular nickname of, "Sudden and Painful Death On Two Crooked Feet", is an accurate description.

I'll get to the description of the Army with the next post.

Welcome To Raubenstadt - Part Two

2007-12-20T08:55:00.000-08:00

"Most countries have an army. Raubenstadt is an army that has a country."

von Sinsheim, Imperial Knight

I've been fooling around with wargaming ever since my fellow third grader, Matt Lore brought some of his 20mm plastic Greek figures to show and tell in 1963. They were different from my beloved "Armymen"; for instance my little sister hadn't chewed on them, and there were rules. No rubber band barrages, no dirt clod bombs - dicerolls governed how far they moved, how well they fought, what casualties they suffered. It was all very exciting and heady stuff. We had just studied the Trojan War, and the general conclusion of Mrs. Hawk's class was if the Trojans were dumb enough to tear down their gate to admit the horse, they deserved what happened to them! If only King Piram had had one of Mrs. Hawk's bloodthirsty little devils to advise him, Homer might have told a different story.

Fast forward four years. I came across a copy of Joe Morchauser's "How To Play Wargames" in the school library. Multiple troops mounted on "stands" brought into focus fuzzy concepts like tactics, strategy, and army organization. In the theater of my mind the clash of sword on shield was replaced by rolling vollies of musket fire, and the rumble of passing tank columns. The entire panoply of military history lay at my feet. (Joe had provided Jack Scruby's address in the back of his book; and Mini-tanks and Airfix guys could be purchased, within reason, at Dad's favorite Hobby Store on the Southside of Indianapolis.)

High School came around and other interests beckoned. (Cars and girls, or was it girls and cars? It depended on the moment, state of my finances, and a lot of other variables.) The wargaming stuff was boxed and stored away, yet the seed of the idea remained.

In college (again at the library), I came across Charles Grant's "The Wargame", and all the pieces that had been stewing around fell into place. Inspired by his writings and those of Peter Young, I came up with the idea of "Raubenstadt", a petty German state of the 18th Century.

Raubenstadt is loosely (very, very loosely) based upon the ol' Meltzer ancestral stomping grounds of Heidleburg in Baden. The main premise is that at some time during the Thirty Year's War, a band of refugee mercenaries stumbled across a power vaccum and promptly filled it. The local citizens could not resist the power grab, and eventually resigned themselves to the situation. (This plot line brought to you by "The Last Valley", starring Michael Caine and Omar Sharif.) So there they are; armed to the teeth, hard to get to, supported by the locals, and not worth the effort to root them out.

The years roll on....Raubenstadt gains a measure of respectability, as the line of robber barons, now take the title, "The Markgraaf of Raubenstadt". They eventally discover the delights and profits to be gained from taxation rather than raiding. ("It's good to be the Markgraaf!" - Mel Brooks.) Although the "old ways" die hard. The barge traffic up and down the Rubberneckar River does have to deal with a tricky passage, but no one will admit to fiddling with the channel marker buoys, so accidents happen frequently, and Raubenstadt has very liberal "salvage laws" on the books. (This plot line brought to you by "How the West Was Won", particularly Walter Brenan's character.)

The next time I'll outline some of my cast of characters and give some detail to the armed forces that follow the Markgraaf. In the meantime, since this whole "Nobility" thing is still a work in progress as far as the Markgraaf is concerned, two slogans are under consideration for the coat of arms. 1. "If he wanted a fair fight, he should have gone somewhere else." - ("Life and Times of Judge Roy Bean", starring Paul Newman. )
2. "Let the wind out of him. Shove a rock in, and roll him over the side in deep water." - ("Rob Roy", starring Liam Neeson.)
Does anybody know how that would translate into Latin?

Welcome To Raubenstadt

2007-12-18T20:43:00.000-08:00

Greetings Fellow Imagi-Nationeers!

My name is Martin Meltzer and I have recently discovered a group of kindred spirits having a high old time on the internet. Reluctantly dragged kicking and screaming into the 21st Century by my wife and kids, I am in the process of becoming computer literate. I want to take this opportunity to thank the guys at Old School Wargaming, The Society of Daisy, and now Emperor vs Elector. Special thanks to Jeff. It was a relatively painless process to join up, and I hope that as time rolls on and my skills increase, that you will find some information of use here. I am looking forward to a long association.

Yours,

Martin