The CHARGE campaign staggers on... I've reported on this Seven Years War effort from time to time. This campaign was the child of Bill Protz, who thinks the CHARGE rules, circa 1970, are the greatest thing since sliced bread, and who wanted to get his 30mm SYW army into action. Bill organized the campaign, drew up the maps, and turned everything over to a volunteer Umpire to run the show. This first Umpire quit over a year ago; a second took over, and the results to-date have been rather spotty. In one of the poop sheets sent out by the campaign Umpire, it appeared that Bill Protz himself hadn't sent in a move for over 8 months! In my last active campaign move, which I think was made sometime in January of this year, I sent forces into the country on my southern border, the Empire of Ardoberg-Holstein. It turned out the Emperor, like Bill Protz, had also disappeared in the late phases of the campaign; he, too, failed to turn in any moves for the greater part of a year. I take pity on the Umpire, who is valiantly striving to keep this affair alive... with less than zero help from the participants. Note that in this article, to show the proper respect to this man who ignores the odds against him, I have capitalized the word Umpire. Remind me never to volunteer to run a campaign. About a month ago, the Umpire, giving up on ever receiving word from the Emperor, sent me a note stating that I could run all the Ardoberg-Holstein troops. This sounds wonderful ... it gives me two countries to govern, two armies to maneuver ... BUT... it also requires me to manage two sets of books in which are noted troop locations, troop strengths, taxes raised, taxes paid, etc. According to Fred Hubig, who runs a neighboring country, the logistics background is one pain-in-tte-butt, requiring several hours of work to compile the necessary data. I am, therefore, not overjoyed at the prospect of having to assemble data for two countries, let alone one. All the above is prelude to the fact that Fred Hubig received word from the Umpire that enemy Sudenanian troops were spotted fairly near his own Pomeranian forces and that the Sudens might attempt a river crossing attack. Fred's thought was to set up a river crossing scenario in anticipation of the pending attack to see how our rules treated this particular aspect of battle. If, therefore, he ever did get notice of an attack attempted in this manner, held be all set to go. Our group's SYW rules are called POUR LE MERITE, Version II (PLM), a "morale game" in which we do not remove figures but keep all the units intact throughout the game. Each unit remains on the field from start to finish and the result of getting bashed via enemy fire, and from melee, is indicated by a decrease in the unit morale level. When the morale level drops to a certain threshhold value, the unit is considered ineffective and is removed from the table. A note of interest here I think that PLM first saw the light of day way back in 1986; this was "Mod 1" ... and the current version of PLM (probably around "Mod 347") is thus over four years old. The mere fact that our group has stuck to this set of rules is quite extraordinary... the normal life of a set of rules with which we game, whether it's our own in-house rules set or a published set, is about an hour... well, maybe an hour- and-a-half... before we lose patience with its inconsistencies, anomalies, ambiguities, etc., especially so with a published set, for which the author wants you to pay good money. The fact that the PLM set has lasted this long indicates - to me, at least - that while it may not be the most historically accurate set of rules ever written, it presents a very entertaining game. Occasionally, someone may see "gold" in a set of rules despite a number of patent problem areas. A good example of this concerns Bob Wiltrout, who played Peter Guilder's Napoleonic game, IN THE GRAND MANNER (ITGM), and took to the rules with even more ardor than Bill Protz took to the CHARGE rules. Bob corresponded with the author, worked out many of the problems, and literally rewrote the ITGM book, rearranging the chapters, the charts, and the entire format of the publication. By the way, to protect Bob's reputation, I must insert a disclaimer here lest the reader jump to an unwarranted conclusion. Bob is really not one of "our group" ... for some reason, he disagrees with many of the silly things we do, claiming they are ahistorical, and constantly (with little success, I might add) tries to make us see the error of our ways. And now back to the river crossing. Brian Dewitt and I took charge of the Sudenanian forces which would attempt this bold feat. According to the map possessed by General Hubig, there were only two points at which the crossing could be made. One was the Stone Bridge leading to the town of Burgfurt, and the other was whatever place we decided to build our pontoon bridge. The map indicates that the opposite shore, even though it had plenty of "beach area", was commanded by a series of low wooded ridges set back some 12 to 15 inches from the river line. Musket range in PLM extends out to 30 inches... this did not look good at all. We divided our forces in two; I took the left flank infantry (two regiments) and all of our cavalry... four regiments of heavy horse... and made for the town. Duke Brian took about four infantry regiments and the pontoon train and made for the river. Early in the game, we faced the question: how rapidly can the pontoon bridge be constructed? It was immediately obvious that all present were experts in bridge construction, and the air was full of pithy and knowledgeable remarks about Napoleon's crossing of the Bereszina and other such feats. In the end, we tied in the, bridge construction to the turn sequence. Each side draws alternately from an Action Deck, which determines how many actions (2, 3 or 4) the entire side can perform for that phase. The bridge rule was that the pontoons could extend out, on each of our phases, one inch for every action denoted on our card draw. Before the game, Fred Hubig had chalked the river in blue on the table... when measured, we were faced with a "6 inch" river, i.e., we needed a total of 6 action increments to set up. Bridge Now we needed a rule concerning bridge destruction... how much should the structure disintegrate when hit by a large, solid, iron cannon ball? As before in constructing a bridge, now it turned out that all the participants in the battle knew everything there was to know about destroying a bridge. Faced with a plethora of knowledge on the subject (our cup virtually ranneth over) , we took the easy way out... we avoided it. Instead, we gave the bridge a unit of sappers with a finite morale level. When fired at, the engineers would test morale; if they momentarily fled, bridge construction would be held up accordingly. The bridge itself, however, would remain unscathed, ready for-the sappers to return. As soon as our sappers reached the river and started to inch the bridge across, the enemy blasted away at them, both musketry and artillery. But our boys were equal to the task. Duke Brian proudly reported that despite having had 5,649 cannon balls fired at them, and having tested morale for every shot, the engineers passed every morale test in fine fashion. The only casualty was the unit's officer... and who cares about an officer? The sappers had a basic morale level of 80%. When they were fired at, the 80% figure was reduced accordingly by a combination of three factors: a. A range factor b.The number of men firing (determined by the number of stands in the firing unit) c.The number of volleys (determined by the action increments of the Action Card draw) Usually, the total reduction was in the order of 10 to 25 percent, hence, the engineers tested at a morale level, under fire, of anywhere from 55 to 70 percent, depending upon the effectiveness of the volley. A range of 55 to 70 percent for a continuing series of morale tests is not too encouraging, and here, Duke Brian used the unit's officer to good advantage. The officer added 20% to the sappers' morale level, but in so doing, he exposed himself to enemy fire at that same percentage. General Hubig, therefore, each time Dewitt's officer assisted his men, threw percentage dice seeking a 20 or less. After a number of throws, he got his 20, and Duke Brian's able and heroic officer was carried off the field. On my side of the battleground, I advanced in column to Burgfurt, and got to within 6 inches of the town, when up popped the dreaded Hepford Light Battalion, and blasted away at my troops, caught in column of march. Just as with the sappers, my troops' initial morale level was 80%, and because of the proximity of the volley, the morale level dropped some 30 points to around 50 percent. Unsurprisingly, my boys couldn't hack it; whomever the Lights fired at, failed their morale test and fell back. It took three or four phases before I could reorganize the resultant messy configuration and get sufficient fire power focused on the Hepford Lights to cause them to fall back over the Stone Bridge to the other side of the river. Now the town was empty of the enemy, the bridge was clear, and all that remained for me to do was to run my cavalry over the bridge and beat the defenders about the head and shoulders. Stone Bridge, unfortunately, was only one stand wide, and so I cried: "Form column!", and sent my lead cavalry regiment, Simon's Heavy Horse, thundering across the bridge. Alas! ... even louder than the thundering hoofs was the splat! splat! of cannon balls impacting on horseflesh! A quick morale test, and back came the thundering heroes, seeking peace and quiet and serenity on my side of the river. I should note that since PLM is a "morale game", a unit under fire tests morale every time it is hit, and not merely once per turn. On each of our side's phases, when we drew an Action Card, I would charge f orward with yet another unit of horse. Cavalry move a distance of 6 inches per action, so that on a draw of a "3", they could charge across for 18 inches, and on a "4" for 24 inches. My thought was that I really needed three consecutive phases to establish any sort of a foothold on the opposite side: The first phase, to form up in column and charge the full distance over the bridge. Second, since, under the guidelines of PLM a column is not a fighting formation, to change formation from column to "something else". PLM dictates that a change of formation is not necessarily automatic; there is a 25% chance per action increment, cumulative, that a unit can reform. Hence the draw of a "2" gives 50% to reform, a "3" gives 75%, while a "4" is a true 100%. Third, assuming I successfully formed up, to charge into whatever enemy unit dared to show its face near me. Unfortunately, I never got a chance to complete the second phase. In four consecutive turns, in quick succession, I threw all four of my heavy cavalry regiments across the bridge, and in just as quick succession, all four were blasted by defensive enemy fire, failed morale tests, and ran back across Stone Bridge. Sam Hepford, valiant leader of the Hepford Lights in assisting General Hubig and commanding the troops on the other side, did good work in keeping my troops to my side of the river. The crossing of Stone Bridge was a lost cause. And if the cavalry couldn't make it, still less would the infantry make it with their smaller movement distances, which would expose them to even more defensive fire than the cavalry. All I could do on the western end of the field was to hold Burgfurt and hope that Duke Brian was more successful in inching his pontoon bridge across the river. Which he was. But this brought up yet another question. The bridge model I had taken from my spare parts locker for use in the scenario was some 6 inches wide. This permitted the Duke to form a column-of-attack with his battalions as they crossed the structure. As General Hubig fired on them, his query concerned their formation; was it a line or a column or what? He who reads the REVIEW will recall that, back in '86, when PLM was first generated, this very topic had been discussed in detail by the Select Committee on Matters Pertaining To The seven Years War (SCOMPTTSYW). Inputs were received and published from Barry Gray, Pat Condray, John Grossman, and several other people knowledgeable of the era. At that time, the question focussed on whether or not a Napoleonic-style column-of-attack was a viable SYW formation. The answer rendered by the majority of the members of the SCOMPTTSYW was a sort of wishy-washy qualified "Yes", which we took to mean the same as a wishy-washy qualified "No". I remember, for example, that Barry Gray, who authored KOENIGKRIEG, said to go ahead and use the formation, but, if we did, to give the troops some sort of negative modifier when fired upon. General Hubig's current interest in the matter stemmed from the fact that in PLM, as I mentioned before, a column is not a viable fighting formation; he wanted to know if the troops advancing on him were in column and, therefore, had to form up before going into contact. This would give his own units an additional phase of defensive fire, a phase which had proven so devastating against my heavy cavalry. Our quicky decision for the river crossing scenario was no, the troops were not in column; yes, they were in line and therefore they could close with the enemy. Duke Brian took full advantage of this decision. The first troops to cross the pontoon bridge were his elite Grenadiers... their basic morale level was 100% versus the 80% of the regular line units. This gave the Grenadiers a full 20 percent advantage over their cohorts when testing morale under fire. As the Grenadiers came forward, each time they were hit, their morale level would decrease somewhere in the order of 25%, depending upon the effectiveness of the defensive volley. Thus they would begin the morale test at 75%, and Duke Brian would then throw in their officer for another 20 points, bringing them back up to 95%, which is pretty close to perfect. "0$%@&*#! ... too perfect!", muttered General Hubig, as he failed, volley after volley, to break the Grenadiers. "These rules have gotta be changed!" My own thought was that Dewitt was merely proving extremely lucky in all his dice tosses. Note that there were two sets of percentage dice throws going against the Grenadiers: First were Dewitt's own throws for the morale of the Grenadiers. Second were Hubig's throws, at 20% each, trying to knock off the Grenadiers' officers each time Dewitt used them to augment the Grenadiers' morale level. Without the officers, the Grenadiers' morale test would be down to a "normal" 75%. The icing on the cake, the straw that broke the camel's back, was when General Hubig's heavy cavalry charged headlong into the unstoppable Grenadiers. In melee, as in the firing procedure, each unit's morale level was impacted upon by the opposition: Four heavy cavalry stands made contact, each with a weight of 10%, hence the morale level of the Grenadiers, starting at 100%, was down to 60%. Duke Brian used the officer to bring the morale level up 20 points to 80%. The Grenadiers had no trouble in passing. Six Grenadier stands, each with a weight of 1 point, reduced Hubig's heavy cavalry morale level of 80 to 74%. Hubig threw in the heavy cavalry officer for 20 points, raising the level to 94%. It is my sad duty to relate that, despite the augmentation, General Hubig's cavalry failed their test. This, of course, resulted in many more cries of these rules have gotta be changed!" Changed or no, Dewitt's Grenadiers simply walked through Hubig's defenses, constantly bolstered by Dewitt's low, low dice throws, while I merely sat and watched in wondrous admiration from the town of Burgfurt. Thanks to the Grenadiers, the river crossing was a success. Indeed, it looked so easy that General Hubig now proposed we redo the scenario... but this time we'd switch... he and Sam Hepford would lead the river crossers, while Duke Brian and I would man the defenses on the opposite shore. And another change... the Grenadiers' basic morale level would commence with 90% rather than with 100% as before. All other things remained equal, however, and we were curious to see if the Grenadiers could do it again. Sam Hepford and I changed places.... this time, I commanded the dreaded Hepford Lights placed in Burgfurt, while he, with all his troops in column of march, approached the town. In the last battle, the Lights had fired one or two volleys, and then, when fired on, had failed a morale test, retreated to the other side of the river... a fairly sensible thing to do... and hadn't played too much part in the rest of the battle. But for some reason, the Lights now had their dander up. These little fellas displayed the ferocity and doggedness of a pitbull; they simply would not vacate the town. Sam's forces volleyed at them, fired on them, charged them, contacted them with multiple unit attacks... no use. They beat back all attacks, answered all volleys, passed all morale tests, and held fast. Well done, Hepford Lights! This meant that, in this second' scenario, the town bridge was unapproachable, and all depended upon the pontoon bridge. A Legend is Born General Hubig set up his bridge, inched it across, and following the example set out by his predecessor, he, too, sent his Grenadiers forward. And then he performed a feat of wargaming legerdemain. Across this rickety wooden pontoon bridge, across this bridge so hastily erected in no more than five minutes battle-time, across this bridge of termite-eaten balsa, across this bridge held together by sapper-spit and mud, General Hubig charged forward with his entire heavy cavalry division, 400,000 tons of horses and men. General Dewitt, faced with this unexpected onslaught, blinked. Both he and I, and, I think, even Sam, started to voice an objection to this wondrous cavalry charge. No use. Hubig would not be stopped. In the previous game, when Duke Brian and I were in command of the crossing force, we had relegated all our cavalry to the Burgfurt Bridge, never dreaming in any of our philosophies that such fantastic use could be made of the flimsy temporary structure erected across the flowing water. In contrast to our modest approach was that of our stalwart opponent's: "A bridge is a bridge is a bridge", was General Hubig's thought, "and if the bridge is there, I'm certainly going to use it." As chronicler of this tale, I must relate that General Hubig got his comeuppance. Despite the surprise appearance of Hubig's heavy cavalry, Duke Brian's own horsemen remained imperturbable, calm, steady... they charged home, and once again it was some low dice throwing on Dewitt's part, coupled with some horrible dice throws on Hubig's part, that sent the Hubigian cavalry in full retreat. Back over the rickety bridge they fled, accompanied by more mutterings of: "#@$&$#! ... these rules have gotta be changed!" Hubig's Grenadiers did no better. It is true we had reduced their basic morale level to 90% from 100%, but I think it was not so much the 10 point difference as the dice throws. While Duke Brian could do no wrong with the dice, General Hubig could do no right. It was just one of those days. And so the second game resulted in a defeat for the river crossing force. On my part, I think that, rickety bridges aside, we have a very viable set of SYW rules in PLM. The game is played at battalion level... 6 stands per battalion, 2 battalions per regiment... and it incorporates a host of procedures we've tested over the years: incremental movement, preemptive actions, officer intervention, etc. In fact, my interest in the SYW era was so much revived that I gave Terry Sirk another 30mm regiment to paint! Back to PW Review August 1990 Table of Contents Back to PW Review List of Issues Back to MagWeb Master Magazine List © Copyright 1990 Wally Simon This article appears in MagWeb (Magazine Web) on the Internet World Wide Web. Other articles from military history and related magazines are available at http://www.magweb.com