It came as somewhat of a shock to get a rather heated call from Ed Wimble the other day, his voice trying to keep pace with a body that was jumping up and down like Yosemite Sam with St. Vitus Dance. What had happened to give agita to so usually calm an individual was the arrival at Chateau Clash of Napoleon's First Battles and Ed, upon surveying the game and its components, had gone into mental D-Elim. Not wishing to pass on an obvious - and significant - opportunity to get some insight from gaming's most prevalent purveyor of Napoleonic cardboardia, I suggested he jot down some of these thoughts for posterity. Ed, somewhat reluctantly, agreed, but only to the extent that I be the one to actually play the game. He would limit his comments to the game's historicity. Before we get to Ed, though, a few words of introduction. NFB is the second item in the combined Decision/Overlord game-line, a line that consists, in varying degrees, of Larry Baggett's money, Decision's publication capabilities, and an insistence that, whatever the subject matter be, it be playable by even the most Nintendo-blunted pre-teen. Simplicity is the D/O password. Unfortunately, their first effort - Four Battles of the Ancient Quad - or, more suitably, the Old Bag Quad - mistook simple-mindedness for simplicity and putting names on the counter for historical flavor. Fortunately - and despite what Ed will add below - the results, if flawed, are more felicitous here. OK, Ed, you're on "Last summer I had the pleasure of touring three of the battlefield - the Italian ones - that are represented in Joe Miranda's Napoleon's First Battles. Because of this, I naturally jumped at the chance to acquire a copy as soon as it became available. I should have jumped out of the way, instead. "The box cover [Ed. someone really has to sit down with the Decision people and explain to them the merits of professional graphics; this is dreary stuff] appears to have been inspired by one of the few known etchings for the Battle of Montenotte, the consul's first full-scale engagement. Aside from the several anachronisms the painting exhibits - almost everyone looks like a bunch of Garibaldini, the cannon are Second Empire twelve-pounders, and then there is Boney, himself, astride a white charger, spurring on his troops, more of which below - it is a fairly accurate picture of the battlefield, with the high, broken, tree-studded terrain that characterized this theater. "So imagine my surprise when I opened the box to take a look at the Montenotte scenario. My flabber was totally gasted to find nary a single tree on the entire map. If it were not for the few, desultory streams, you'd think this was Kasserine Pass! Maybe they factored them out to save on green ink; who knows? Of course, this means that units will end up fighting for hexes that, in reality, had no military value, and that artillery has a clean shot in almost any direction. "Closer inspection brought more frustration. The map is dotted with what appear to be sizeable towns, towns which provide a defender with a considerable benefit in combat. Nothing could be further from reality. In 1796, Montenotte Superiore consisted of seven, militarily flimsy structures; it still does. And all the "towns" preceded by a "C", such as the important C.de Ferre, are not towns but single houses! That's what the "C" is for: casa, or "house". The only reason these places have any importance whatsoever is that they do have names, and named places are easier to find. While they were of some directional help in a campaign in which almost everybody got lost at one time or another, they were tactically less than insignificant. "Actually, I was quite curious about the inclusion of Montenotte in the Quad; I certainly admire Joe Miranda for trying to make a game of it, as there really wasn't much fighting, the two (separated) days of battle covering a few hours, at most. But more than that, I could swear that it was La Harpe's division that spear-headed the French assault from the southeast, not Cervoni's. As for the Austrians, the presence of Colli is pure fantasy, his troops never getting past the town of Dego, in the uppermost NW corner of the map. Then, when you consider that two-thirds of the troops available for the game were never involved in the battle, you have a What-If wearing the Muse of History's toga. "Most telling, though, is the presence of General Buonaparte, himself. In truth, he was nowhere near the battlefield; it was La Harpe's battle. True, it was Buonaparte's campaign; but he was not there to lead the troops. "From Montenotte we travel up country to the site of one of Bonaparte's great battles, his first major victory: Marengo. One of the marvelous things about the Marengo battlefield is that the only place where it has changed in the last 200+ years is on Miranda's map. Again, he insists of displaying what amount to little more than villas - which is what Marengo was in 1800 - as full-fledged, defensible towns. I don't think this misrepresentation affects the game or its balance, but it does bring whatever research was done into question. [Ed. See the comments on the Casus Belli Marengo map, herein.] "As for Arcola, that map is a pretty good representation, although the game's bridge at Ronco was not a bridge but a ferry, and several of the roads across the swamps are not roads but dikes that stand some 20 feet above the terrain. Unfortunately, I did not get to the Pyramids battlefield - how many mistakes can you make in representing flat sand? - but I do mention it because the box cover contains a rather interesting, secondary portrayal of Bonaparte gazing out over the pyramids. We can understand how he got to Egypt when we notice that he appears to be wearing the uniform of a Union Naval officer! "But for us 'purists' - or anyone with more than a passing interest in historical accuracy - the final blow comes with the counters. On the reverse, "fog-of-war" side are representations of the country's flag. The French counters show the famous tricolor, so familiar to all. Perhaps too familiar. The tricolor was not adopted by France as her flag until 1808. The battleflag of post-revolutionary France was the white diamond with corners of alternate red and blue. "And, finally, as everyone knows, Buonaparte did not become Bonaparte until the second Italian campaign. And the familiar Napoleon does not appear officially until he became Emperor in 1804. That it shows up on his counter may simply be some evidence of wishful thinking on the consul's part. Then again, it's more likely just the same slipshod, back-of-the-hand historical work much of the above evinces." That said by Ed, I would add that this is not a visually happy game. As noted, the box seems to have beaten about the face and arms with a very blunt Ugly Stick. The Rick Pavek counters, while clear and readable, sport colors reminiscent of those twin icicle pops you used to dribble all over the place when you were five. And if someone wants to explain to me exactly what Rick's "ford" icon represents, other than a drunken centipede, I'd be glad to listen. Simonitch's maps are workmanlike. Mark seems to be listening to too much Philip Glass when he works; his last few games definitely come from a major minimalist approach. The rules "sheets", about which few reviews ever make "graphic" comments, are most deserving of attention here. I can see what Decision was trying to do, and while the effort is to be applauded, the execution is to be heartily derided. Doc D obviously wanted each "section" of the game - Basic Rules, Advanced, scenarios, etc. - to have it's own, four-page folio-style folder. Fine. But the end result is that page 1 is printed on Page 4, and the whole thing reads out like a Haggadah, or a letter from the Emperor - Hirohito, not Napoleon. On the other hand, none of the graphics stop you from playing the game, which is not something you can say for everything that comes out these days. Actually, the game isn't too bad, if you approach it from the angle the designer intends you to take: fast and simple. If he'd added, "and a bit dumb", Truth in Advertising would parade in joy. I played two of the battles, Marengo and Montenotte. I had no interest in slaughtering Mamelukes, so The Pyramids held little fascination, and I just never got around to Arcola. Montenotte game, of course, is simply wishful thinking on the designer's part, as very little - VERY little - of what happens in the game actually happened. Whatever, this is fast-furious stuff, with the Austrians trying to plug 35 holes with 3 fingers, desperately buying time until Beaulieu's corps can enter. When they do, it creates interesting problems for the French player, as he usually has to hold two spots, both of which are vulnerable to the large influx of unhappy Hapsburgers. Marengo has its own problems, mostly from the fact that there is no sensible rule that will recreate the Austrians deciding they'd won and falling into march formation to head home. Failing that, the French back-pedal for half a dozen turns hoping Desaix's division can produce the desired result and that the chef comes up with a good chicken recipe. Both of these games, you'll notice, feature one player falling back in desperation, while his opponent tries to (a) catch up and (b) do it before some new meanies arrive. They both play in about 2 hours, even using the "advanced" rules, and they both keep both players amused, if not exactly involved. All of this arises from a curiously uncharacteristic Miranda system, a system I have a feeling is Miranda Through a Baggett Darkly. While it is a simple game, there appear to be some complexities trying to break through. It's Igo-Hugo, with a familiar Bombard-Move-Fight-Rally sequence, into which the Advanced rules throw a few items that do little to disrupt the original flow, such as Command determination and "Observation", more of which below. Everything is, if not exactly "old hat", pretty familiar, so most gamers will be up and running in about 10 minutes, until they hit the first sharp curve Miranda throws at them: the combat system. This is a very curious combat system. ZOC's require combat, and there is no Retreat Before Combat. This means those 1 point light cavalry units get gobbled up rather easily, and any ordered retreats become headlong flights with any "screens" getting chewed up right fast. Then there is the even more curious "counter-charge" rule in the advanced game. This has nothing to do with cavalry; it's a "here's what's really happening" microcosm of "it costs 1 point to leave an enemy ZOC". Except that it isn't, and it doesn't work. Essentially, a unit that wishes to leave an enemy ZOC is subject to being attacked by the exerting enemy. Well, the only units that really want to do this are ones in danger of getting beat up, so whether they stay or leave they're gonna get it. And if they stay, at least they can use their Elan bonus to attack (a nice, typical Miranda rule that adds good flavor). So, why try to leave? And, pray tell, how could an infantry brigade stop a cavalry brigade from trotting away unharmed? This appears to be one of those design ideas you put down in your notes that looks really good but, in practice, has more holes than a gold course. After two or three rather desolate attempts at implementing it, we simply ignored the rule. Which all leads to the CRT From Hell. I don't know what went on when they drew this thing up, but it makes little sense in terms of gaming. Individually, the results - Retreats, Losses, Routs and Exchanges - are all within reasons - if rather opaquely explained. It's the Exchange that creates the problem, the focal point of the CRT's inability to determine which results are more harmful to the attacker. "X" (Exchange) results are higher on the dieroll than either DR (retreat) or DL (Loss and retreat). Considering the attacker gets to add to his dieroll for all-important elan, he increases the chance of losing that unit to the Exchange, with the Defender only having to retreat!! (I smell errata here, but, even though some is supplied, it does not address this question.) Yes, the DZ result which is applied to Exchange defenders does eliminate Disrupted defenders. But since all Disrupted units get to retreat two hexes (out of an enemy ZOC) and then get rallied automatically before the other player can close in (for the most part), the Exchange is a devastating result to the attacker. We started counting after a while. The attacker lost 7 units to an "X"; the defender, 1 a rather deleterious rate of exchange. There is also a good rally rule, rather strangely applied. Units get offed rather quickly, but they can return (whole) if they pass a Rally roll. If they fail the rally roll, they're gone forever. Since the ratings most rally rolls are measured against are 1's, with some 2's (Napoleon is a '3'), the end result, once we check the wash, is you lose a lot of units quickly and permanently. Compare this to the No Eliminations CRT in Casus Belli's Marengo, in "Read 'em and Weep", a most interesting juxtaposition of design and historical insight. Another waste of energy is the Fog of War rules. They're not bad as rules. All units are played on their reverse, flag-only side until observed or in combat. Each player has a number of "screen" (read, "dummy") units to befuddle the opposition. This is an obvious and simple rule that, while slowing play down, can lead to some interesting confusion. Problem is, after about one turn, everyone spots everyone else. And the time you spend at the beginning of each turn figuring out the one or two units that are "out of sight" has little payoff, as you easily remember which ones they are unless you're into three-card Monte. In the scheme of things, ΰ la Decision, NFB is a step in the right direction. If all you're looking for is some head-to-head, two hour counter banging, you could do (and probably have done) a lot worse. It has some flavor, and every once in a while, the creative muse sticks her head through the heavy curtains of simplicity. Success, however, is weighed down by a combat system that is unnecessarily frustrating, frustrating not so much in terms of historicity but in playability. Players will pretty much do what we did: roll the die, shake their heads, say, " this is dumb," and continue to play. CAPSULE COMMENTS Graphic Presentation: Inside OK, outside less so. Maps bland, counter colors poorly chosen. Rules folders goofy. Not an impressive list, is it? Playability: Pretty good, situations interesting if not exactly equal fun for all concerned. Fast and bloody, and easily played solitaire. Warped CRT could cause frustration. Replayability: Fair. Given the forces and situations, strategies won't change much. Historicity: Some nice touches, system-wise, and certainly a major notch above the Old Bags Quad. As for accuracy, they're giving Ed Wimble oxygen now they expect a full recovery. Creativity: Some effort made to raise this above the Cardboard Pushing level, about half of which works with the other half either misguided or unusable. Comparisons: As little liking as I have for Zucker's NLB system, it's better than this, even devoid as it is of any period insight. As a design, Zucker's just makes more sense. NFB is more playable than Poulter's system, which appears to be on life-support now. Hopefully, some humanitarian will pull the plug. Take a look at New England Simulations' Napoleon on the Danube; they seem to have gotten the hang of it. Overall: Good effort, dismal execution. Playable but frustrating. Looking at the first Decision/Overlord game, it could have been worse. But it should have been better. from Decision/Overlord Games Two 33" x 22" mapsheets, 400 counters, 4 Rules Sheets, Player Aid Card, die; from Decision Games, POB 4049, Lancaster CA 93539 . $28. Back to Berg's Review of Games Vol. II # 9 Table of Contents Back to Berg's Review of Games List of Issues Back to MagWeb Master Magazine List © Copyright 1992 by Richard Berg This article appears in MagWeb.com (Magazine Web) on the Internet World Wide Web. Other articles from military history and related magazines are available at http://www.magweb.com