This month, we are giving over much of our column to another crusty old wargamer, Charles A. Sweet, by reprinting an article he wrote for the Wellsian Newsletter around 1968. His son, David B. Sweet, sent a copy to me in response to my declarations (see MWAN #108) about gaming a la H.G. Wells' Little Wars rules. The article concerns Mr. Sweet's boyhood games with Britains figures, including the use of firing cannon and house rules (literally). Events as described occurred in the 1920's and describe the best wargaming either Dan or I have heard about for many a year. Thanks to both generations of Sweets for sharing this wonderful article with the readership of MWAN!! --Chuck Vadun and Dan Richardson Wells Land Revisited by Charles A. Sweet Arrival of an (infrequent) issue of The Wellsian Newsletter always causes me an acute attack of nostalgia. It brings back very sharply my boyhood days when Stadden, Imrie, Courtenay, etc., were unheard of and when my ultimate envy was of an affluent friend who owned, in their shiny magnificence, every piece of horse-drawn equipment Britains made. My own collection (I did not think of it in those terms) was painfully accumulated by pyramiding my 15 cents a week allowance until I had amassed the 79 cents which was the price of a box of eight Britains infantry or five cavalry. I remember with profound gratitude a widowed aunt who made biannual trips to Massachusetts from her home in the South and, at some time during her visit, tucked in my hand a magnificent $2 bill. With this and another 25 cents I could purchase, if I could wheedle a trip into Boston, a large three set box of U.S. Marines, Doughboys and West Point Cadets. Incidentally, I was never quite sure of the status of the Cadets. In my armies, and those of my younger brother and cousin who used to spend the summer with us, they quite often used to turn up as artillerymen. I longed for but could never acquire the dashing Royal Horse Artillery Troop and the Mountain Gun Detachment. Some forty years later I ran into both these sets while on vacation in Bermuda and promptly bought them, forty years too late. As mentioned, my principal miniature soldier opponents were my first cousin, four years younger, and my brother, eight years my junior. The armies were wondrous to behold. The only rules of purchase were dictated primarily by economics and secondarily by whatever available set caught the eye of the purchaser. My own favorite cavalry were the 2nd Dragoon Guards, at the gallop, with lances. However, they were aided and abetted by such diverse groups as Skinner's Horse (those yellow tunics!), Turkish Cavalry and Fifth Dragoons. Ninth Lancers were also much admired, but I never understood the slung lance. My infantry was composed of such unrelated groups as the aforementioned Americans, a box of Gordon Highlanders in assorted positions, Egyptians, Greeks (despised because of skirts, often relegated to the Nursing Corps) and Royal Navy. The artillery was manned by any troops whose movable arms had fallen off. The armies of my opponents were made up along the same lines. My cousin was much attracted by Hussars, and these, plus bearskinned Guards, formed the bulk of his troops. My brother, being the youngest of the three, could raise only the "odds and sods." One Christmas, however, I gave him, after considerable soul searching, the beautiful "Los Rurales De La Federacion" Mexican set; and they were his elite guards. Artillery, as distinct from artillerests, was a real melange. We had several of the 4.5 naval guns and one or two light RHA guns. For our style warfare, however, these were not powerful enough. The way, the only way, to inflict casualties on an opponent was to knock over his troops with a shot from a spring-loaded gun. The 4.5s were deadly accurate, particularly when the metal mast of an Ives clockwork destroyer was substituted for the wooden shell provided, in the open field. Most of the pitched battles, however, were fought between opposing fortresses constructed from children's building blocks. There was a loose rule to the effect that no roofs could be placed over troops nor could any be places, at the onset of the bombardment, so that they could not fall over when hit. This prohibition led to some rather unusual styles of fortification construction, blocks placed so that they would, hopefully, fall into place making bombproof niches soldiers so placed in which could not topple over. Troops were invariably courageous to the final degree and invariably fought to the last man. This type of construction led to an investment in heavy artillery more capable than the 4.5s of knocking over block fortifications. Through a series of fortunate coincidences, each of us became the owner of a large wooden spring-fired cannon, painted in a garish style with bright wooden red wheels, but in the scale of the six-inch cardboard soldiers which accompanied it. The tiny red wooden bullets furnished with the gun were promptly replaced by the ordinary lead pencil. The destructive effects of this ammunition were enhanced by placing the lead projectile head from the Britains 18-inch siege howitzer, owned by a more affluent neighbor, over the pencil end. However, this type of shell had to be outlawed by a local Geneva Convention as being too destructive to troops. Higher authority (my mother) issued and enforced several edicts. The first was: On a sunny day, all play was outside. To this day, I look up guiltily if, on a day off, I am detected doing anything indoors while the sun is shining. There was another prohibition against using any means of transport, such as our crudely built wooden ships, which would scratch the floor. Thirdly, at the end of the day, all troops, fortifications, etc., had to be completely picked up and put away. This rule caused much lamentation but was strictly enforced. I have in later years seen the wisdom of what at the time seemed mere exhibitions of dictatorial power. One further prohibition should be mentioned. When troops were used out of doors, no fortifications, earthworks, etc., were permitted except in a carefully screened area behind the garage. Many and varied were the edifices built there, ranging from elaborate trenchworks to sort of pseudo castles. However, outdoors was not considered satisfactory. Soldiers would not stand well, their beautiful uniforms became dirty, they might be lost in cave-ins (or hidden so well they were forgotten in the haste of pick-up time). Worst of all, they were more readily stepped on. In this connection, the worst injury that could befall a lead soldier was to be broken off his stand. That made him irreparable. The least serious injury was to have a head broken off. That could be easily fixed by placing the head on a wooden match stick and driving the other end down in the body. Depending on whether it went down into the right or left leg, the soldier gave the appearance of listing to port or starboard. The Rest of the Column Tell me the truth, wasn't that fun? It sure got me thinking about the good old days of my youth, firing bee-bees, hurling dirt clods and rolling marbles at a collection of mostly plastic or rubbery figures painted to resemble marines, Germans and chicoms. Good times. Good times. Since we last sent in a column, I have moved twice and Dan is in the process of moving now. He has the enviable distinction of having his new workshop and painting room in the fully bricked basement of an antique shop adjacent to a museum. He is deep in so many projects I hesitate to mention them all as it makes me feel quite the layabout, but here's a sampling. Dan is building museum-quality ships and aircraft for private collectors and museums. He is also sculpting one-off large figures of the famous and not-so-famous. Last one I saw was a reenactor friend of his done as a Civil War flag bearer. It was really amazing how clearly the sculpture portrayed the individual but, in another era. Hmmm, I wonder how I'd look as Davout? Dan also built a model kit for me, so I could throw an old biplane into my fictional colonial wars. Alas, I have to report that my much-desired German hot air balloon built from a Lindbergh ACW kit was irrevocably lost in the mail. Sigh. Getting back to Dan's other activities, he has been out souvenir hunting on the Vicksburg battlefields and has discovered many musket balls and shell fragments. What a thrill! For my part, my two moves have put me through several wargames disappointments, from the discovery that my wargames shed leaked water during our torrential rainstorms to the losses of fragile items incurred in both moves. Packing up and repacking actually did nothing to lighten my load as I am such a pack rat that I moved everything each time. In fact, I acquired more. Now, I am convinced that I will have to sell off at least 75% of my stuff. I just can't move it again. There are 90 boxes of hobby-related stuff, everything from figures to three (yes, three) terrain systems. How did I get so much stuff and why? The worst part is that there is so much of it, I usually go and take a nap rather than type a for-sale list. In any case, it looks as though the new home will be ideal for wargaming, located near the Presidio and Fort Stockton (end point of the march of the Mormon Battalion). I have a whole garage which I carpeted with indoor outdoor carpeting and plenty of room and shelving for a painting table and storage. There will also be a couch and (ta-da) my wargaming table. So next time, watch out for some battle reports! Back to MWAN #112 Table of Contents Back to MWAN List of Issues Back to MagWeb Magazine List © Copyright 2001 Hal Thinglum This article appears in MagWeb (Magazine Web) on the Internet World Wide Web. Other military history articles and gaming articles are available at http://www.magweb.com