We have all been deeply involved in the analysis of military history and the challenge of transferring of the "lessons" and "realities" of this history to the environment of a table-top, miniatures based wargame. We have also all been equally frustrated with our success in achieving this goal in a simple and playable fashion. In the continuing effort to find "the perfect mechanic" let me put forward for consideration a slightly new variant of our discussions of the past.

My focus here is on how to implement a playable game in the large scale; i.e., a major battle. But, to have the game structured in such a way that technically unsophisticated (this is not to say historically ignorant) players can participate, while still presenting a challenge to the highly experienced player.

The way to do this, it seems to me, is to configure the gaming environment such that the value of expertise is to be found in the area of military decision making and not rules crunching. In short, the more we can model the environment of the general, perhaps the more we can simplify the playing process. One might say that we do this already. I would disagree.

First, the real-general was concerned with what to do in a situation. How it was to be done was a comparatively minor consideration. That was for his subordinates to figure out. The gaminggeneral is frequently much more concerned with how to accomplish what he wants to do because he may not be sure within the limits of the game what exactly is allowed to happen. This is a very artificial constraint on the gaming-general. It is the number one reason why expertise in the game mechanics dominates expertise in history of a period. Ignorance and uncertainty of mechanics is very inhibiting to the play and enjoyment of the game.

While it might be argued that real-generals had to be knowledgeable in the drill and tactical details of the period in order to be successful, I would dispute that rule mechanics in the gaming world are even remotely analogous to drill in the real world.

Furthermore, I know many wargamers who are totally ignorant of the drill of a period but know the rules inside-and-out, and as a result have a marked advantage over a person knowledgeable in the drill but ignorant of the rules. This is not the way it should be. "General-like" knowledge should help the gaming general just as much as it did the real-general.

The second place I disagree with the statement that we already focus on the general is in the consistency of the level of decision making we ask the gaming-general to make. While we are well aware of the need to maintain a clear focus on the events that are to be included in the game, I think we are still spreading far too wide a net in bringing decisions to the gaming-general. If we take Empire as a basis for discussion, we find that the typical gaming-general must make decisions that range from battalion commander to corps commander. Not only must the same gaming-general decide the objectives for each maneuver element in the corps he commands, but he must also decide whether a specific battalion is going to deploy skirmishers. In fact, he will have to decide the actions to be taken by that stand of deployed skirmishers, so I guess we have the gaming-general ranging down to the company level in his decision processes.

Besides lacking in historicity, this amount of decision making is burdensome to the people playing the game. And again, this is a place where mechanical expertise tends to out-weigh historical, commanding general level expertise.

Many years ago, Bob Jones and I proposed a theoretical structure called the information flow wargame. In a sense I feel that we need to return to this concept, but with a focus specifically and exclusively on generalship.

To begin to do this, let's look at what the general does during a battle. The following is an attempt to enumerate these functions of generalship. It is ordered in a somewhat chronological order of occurrence on the day of battle.

• The gathering of intelligence.
• The making of plans and determination of objectives.
• The distribution of orders.
• The inculcating of motivation and energy.
• The commitment of formations to battle.
• The maintenance of resolution.
• The performance of heroic deeds.
• The exploitation of fortuitous events.
• The restoration of order and organization.

Lets look at each in more detail.

The gathering of intelligence.

This is a dual function of the general and his staff. The staff is primarily responsible for the gathering of intelligence, the general is primarily responsible for processing it. There are, therefore, three distinct ways for this function to fail (the staff does not do their job, the general does not do his job, neither do their jobs) and only one way for it to work (both do their jobs). This undoubtedly explains why so many military operations are SNAFUed from the beginning.

The making of plans and determination of objectives.

This is purely the realm of generalship. While there may be a great deal of discussion and input, in the end the general must decide his desires; or, at least ratify the consensus.

The distribution of orders.

This is mostly a staff job that is impacted by the slings-and-arrows of outrageous fortune, not to mention enemy action. However, the situation frequently occurs where the general goes directly to the formation and issues the orders in person. While this eliminates much (but not all of the uncertainty), there are other ramifications of this step that will be considered later.

The inculcating of motivation and energy.

This function is almost exclusively the province of the general and is very metaphysical in nature. As a result we probably tend to give it too little play in the gaming world. Giving orders is not enough, there must also be the conveying of energy and enthusiasm to carry out those orders. This may come from reputation, motivation, physical presence, fear, or any other number of attributes related to the general. In addition, the amount of this wonderful stuff that is delivered to the subordinate can have differing effects dependent upon the nature of the subordinate. Three liters of motivation handed to a Ney or Murat will get a vastly different result than the same amount given to an Archduke John for example.

The commitment of formations to battle.

This is a function of generalship, usually carried out through aides. It is also a decisive point in the life cycle of the formation being committed; and a point that I have become convinced we treat far to lightly in gaming. The commitment of a formation to battle was, for the real-general, a very serious action. The gravity of this is both in the loss of services of the formation and in the loss of control over the formation.

Obviously, we have, in the past, reflected the loss of the services of the formation in our games. We have, however, not effectively modeled the associated loss of control over the committed formation. As a result the formation can be easily recalled if we change our mind or the situation changes. The result is that we as gaming-generals do not experience the same anxiety when making this decision as the real-general did.

The maintenance of resolution.

This is another metaphysical function of the general and to a lesser extent his staff. Once set in motion, or committed to battle either offensively or defensively, formations did not just continue ahead merrily to carry out their orders until all objectives are completed. To paraphrase a popular bumper-sticker, "Compost Happens!"

This is in fact the basis of my windup-toy view of battles. This concept is that formations in battle act as windup toys. They start out fast but gradually wind down until they eventually stop. They then have to be re-wound before they can start again. The battle experience for the formation is a series of windings and runnings until the spring breaks. (This is not to be confused with the "EverReady Bunny.")

Even if there were no enemy to be engaged, the maneuvering of thousands of men across even fairly open terrain was a process loaded with pitfalls. There was confusion about orders, routes, timing, and precedence. There were unexpected obstacles. People got lost, turned lazy, or just didn't want to cooperate. The net result of all this is that the formation would just wind down and stop if it were left on its own.

Add the inconveniences of battle onto the above list of problems and it becomes moderately amazing that anything was ever accomplished. The general was required to continually work to maintain the resolve of his formations to carry out their orders. Note that this is not greatly different for either an attacking or defending formation. One you try to keep moving and the other you try to keep from moving.

The performance of heroic deeds.

This may sound excessively "Hollywood" but it is a genuine requirement of generalship in the period we are discussing, if the general is to be successful. There would arise occasions when in order to maintain the resolution of a formation as discussed previously, the general had to place himself in harm's way. There are numerous examples such as Archduke Charles taking the standard to the front at Wagram to stabilize the front and Napoleon riding his horse over a howitzer shell.

These acts not only make great legend, but they worked. Unfortunately, they frequently had the undesirable side-effect of producing wounded and killed generals, such as Picton at Waterloo.

The exploitation of fortuitous events.

Someone defined luck as what happens when preparation meets opportunity. In a battle the mixing of the two ingredients is accomplished by the general. In the vast majority of cases, it was the general's responsibility to recognize opportunity and take advantage of it by committing troops he had prepared for such an occasion. While regimental commanders might be able to exploit a situation, their localized span of control typically prevented the exploitation from being decisive as regards the battle as a whole. Regimental commanders were also quite consumed by the task of keeping their units functioning which would also reduce their effectiveness in generating luck.

The restoration of order and organization.

It was said that after the hundred hours of ground fighting in Desert Storm, there were no organized armies left in Iraq. The implication being that victory is as disordering as defeat (although infinitely preferable!). The job of putting the pieces back together again belongs to the general, again assisted by his staff. It is the general that must herd the units towards a rallying location he has selected, assess the damage, determine the new formations and their objectives and give the necessary orders to get things going again. If that is possible.

While this list of functions is probably not exhaustive of the things that a general of the horseand-musket period had to do, it does, I think cover the majority of the important ones. A game that reflected these generalship functions would provide a good portrait of the role of the general.

Beyond the functions of generalship, we must also consider several environmental traits and factors that influenced the ability of the general to carry out his role in the battle.

Generals, regardless of what they may have thought, were only human. As a result generals and staffs were limited in what they could provide, handle, and generate per unit time and over the course of the battle. One of the advantages of the corps system over the line or column system of organizing the army was the reduction in the span of control of the commanding general. He had fewer, albeit bigger, pieces to control and keep track of. This made command more efficient allowing more units to be controlled more effectively. But as the latter battles of the Napoleonic period showed, there was a limit for even the corps organization. None the less the general who had a simple plan for a few formations probably had a better chance of success than the general with a complex plan involving numerous formations, even if the total number of units in the formations were equal for both generals.

In addition, generals and staffs were susceptible to ware-and-tear. Beyond the hazards of death and destruction, commanding was an exhausting job. It was both physically and mentally wearing. As the battle went on, a command system would gradually lose its ability to provide effective guidance to the formations and units it was controlling. Typically, there was no recovery from this fatiguing of the command structure during the period of the battle.

Another trait of the battles of this period I think is that once committed, units and generals tended not to surface again until reorganized. This is sort of the "No U Turns" principle of horse-andmusket battles. Once committed to an action in a battle, you were in its grasp until it ended, there were no coffee breaks half way through. While new formations or units might be added, like logs on to a fire, existing participants were rarely pulled out while the action was still undecided. Actions started and continued until ended and then there was a lull while everyone pulled themselves together and then you might do it again, if you could.

The battle was a series of intense spikes of combat separated by periods of inactivity. This rollercoaster profile of action in the real battles is not what we typically see in the game battle. The game battle tends to show a gradual increase in intensity until the entire front is engaged. This steady "ramp-up" is assisted by the ease with which units and formations can be committed, recalled, and then committed anew in another sector of the field. Eventually, when all available space has been occupied by fighting formations, a maximum level of action is achieved and this level is maintained until one or the other side collapses and the game is over.

As much as we may talk about the swirl of action in the battle, we rarely achieve it because we do not commit our formations to battle, we move our units in turns. It is the difference between jumping off the high board and playing hopscotch.

In battles, as in all things above the level of quantum mechanics, the main operative principle is that there is no such thing as a free lunch. Everything has a price that must be paid. In battles the outcome of the payment is subject to change without notice which makes life even worse. For the general the payment is generally in terms of the loss of control of his formations. Eventually he may be just going along for the ride, unable to effect much beyond the unit in front of him.

We gamers seem to demand more, more knowledge, more control, more power. Yet at the same time we carry on endlessly about whether troop frontages, scales, and unit sizes are correct or not. Makes one wonder if we are cut out for our imaginary job. Are we battle commanders or chateau generals in our table top world? Will you take the challenge and apply for the job of general?