A week after the disaster in New York I buried my best friend, Terry Boldt. He died in a mundane work accident. Although his passing was overshadowed by larger events on the world stage, he affected me, and the wargame community as a whole in a profound way. You probably didn't know Terry. He was a blue-collar guy who lived in California, Utah, and Colorado, and wherever he took root, he made new gaming friends, and vastly improved the wargaming in that area. I met Terry 15 years ago in a garage in Riverside, CA when I became embroiled in a re-creation of the War of the Roses. Terry was a mover and shaker in that campaign, just as he was in all aspects of his daily life. He had co-founded the club, drafted the rules for the campaign, and was one of two 11 very dangerous" players I was warned to avoid unless I liked losing. Instead, I was drawn to him. Gruff and unkempt on the outside, brilliant, warm, and giving on the inside. We met on the final battlefield of that campaign and I fought him to a draw using WRG 6 th edition. I was pleased and relieved. As any true soldier and leader, Terry cared more about those around him than himself. Had he been in the armed forces, I would have been proud to serve with him, or under his command. I have never faced a gaming opponent more shrewd, nor have I ever met a man who cared so much about teaching others the art of war. You'd think that I, the one who wore the uniform, would be the one teaching lessons, but that was not so. He did that for nearly all the players in his game groups. He read history voraciously, and fought an unending fight to make our games more "realistic" from the command perspective. His rules variations attempted to counter the "god's eye view" of most games. He tried to hammer into players to think strategically-to play like the end of the battle was not the end of the campaign; that reserves were crucial; that the vigorous pursuit of the broken enemy was the key to overwhelming victory; and that equal point army battles didn't teach any commander anything. And he was right. A brilliant student of Napoleon, Terry launched campaign after campaign to give meaning to our weekend battles, and mercilessly shattered our armies if we strayed from the principles of war. But he was at his best bringing along the new players, who had no preconceptions about rules and miniature warfare. They listened, learned, and became good gamers. Terry's favorite teaching method was to set up a large multi-player battle-didn't really matter what period or rules. Then he'd take all the new guys on his side and put all the grognards who "knew all there was to know about gaming" on the other side. He'd then tell the new guys what the grognards were going to do on the battlefield, the mistakes they would make, and how they could beat them. Then he'd tell them his simple plan, explain the rules basics, and tell them to do two things: 1) obey orders; 2) keep him informed of what was going on in their sectors (he was big on messengers). No, "obey orders' didn't mean Terry told these guys how to move. On the contrary, Terry's orders Would read "Assault the western hill at 1300. Be prepared to advance from there to support a further attack on the enemy right flank which I will start at 1400." Execution was up to them, though he would explain the reasoning behind various historical formations. He would also stress that it was important for a "general" to understand the "timing" of his forces-how long it took to deploy a division from column to line, etc. The amazing result was that the new guys and Terry almost always won. Terry was never one to shy away from an issue if would contribute to better gaming. Or if he perceived a wrong, he wanted to right it. And woe be to the petty bureaucrat or demagogue who stood in his way. He wrote game designers to question their grasp of history and offer better rule mechanics. He aggressively drafted ideas and sent them out to his friends scattered all over the U.S. to playtest or tweak his ideas to improve them. It was a never-ending quest for perfection. He always strove to be the best, or to get the best for others. Whether he was arguing with his boss over a better ways to run the business, or a better way to command our little tabletop legions. He never let his health (diabetes) or his financial status stand in the way of his deeds either-he knew what he wanted done, and he tackled it with generosity and the strength of a grizzly bear. Terry could be stubborn too, and I had fun changing his mind about rules or history or whatever. But most of the time he was very receptive to new ideas. We worked through two editions of home rules for the Civil War. We argued variations for Napoleon's Battles. We discussed leadership theories and how to convert them to game concepts to try on the players. We designed and I launched three Napoleonics campaigns using email and snail mail so that local and distant players could all participate in an intricate corps-level campaign. He converted aircraft models into weird spaceships to play Full Thrust because he got them cheap at a convention (he was great at that--~"hey John, I've got 10,000 plastic Zulus I found a garage sale for $5, what shall we do with them?") And as I was helping his brother sort through his possessions I found several (that's right, not just one) complete set of Dungeon's and Dragons rulebooks and adventure modules-what the heck was he going to do with that??? I mentioned his friends scattered around America. I think one of Terry's biggest enjoyments was being the spider at the center of a wargaming web. If you needed 6mm sapper figures for the ECW, he knew somewhere to get them. If wanted plans for a Fokker d7, he could arrange a copy. Want to start a new period and don't know which books to get? Ask Terry. I used that network frequently to find odds and ends of information and figures, as did others. Many times I mailed or faxed copies of MWAN articles or club newsletters to him or another friend of his to use. I couldn't go on a trip overseas without some list of his to "keep my eyes out for". But Terry taught me more than gaming and history. He taught me how to treat my friends and family. I listened many nights as he detailed his concerns for his father who died last year from diabetes, and his mother who is deteriorating from the same disease. He became animated and seemed truly happy describing the hunting and fishing with his brother Tim once he moved to Colorado. And Terry would lend a hand any time someone asked, and without any thought of repayment. I know I'm not the only person who owes part of their house to Terry's handiwork. Last fall, as my birthday present, he flew to Washington to help me install a marble countertop in my kitchen. Another time he gave me some storage cabinets for my figures after I casually mentioned I was disgusted with my pizza box figure containers. I already mentioned his "network" and how he shared everything he learned with those in need. Terry had a huge heart and love for life, and I'm glad I had a chance to share it with him. Few men have given so much to our hobby, yet gone unrecognized. That is why I entitled this the "Tribute to an Unknown Soldier". I'm sure there are more folks like Terry out there. The legions of volunteers who run Historicon and local conventions, the slaves who crank out club newsletters or run for club offices year after year, the faceless men and women who put on game after game each weekend at the their homes or clubs. I salute all of you "Unknown Soldiers" who have contributed to making this a boundless and wonderful hobby as Terry did. Farewell my friend. I look forward to serving in the Lord's Legions with you, though I expect you'll have them reorganized by the time I get there. Back to MWAN #115 Table of Contents Back to MWAN List of Issues Back to MagWeb Magazine List © Copyright 2002 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