On the field were lots of 40mm, 3-figure, i.e., 3-man, squads, mostly riflemen. The attacking side, trying to break through, had 6 squads... 18 men... and two tanks. Opposing them were three defending squads, an anti-tank gun, and a single tank. I got to the "oh and two" count referenced in the title, by fouling up the numbers on the first two presentations of this game. My basic thought was that during the bound, each side would pile it on the other, firing on the weaker units of the opponent, cause temporary casualties to the opposition, causing morale checks, causing morale failures, which would result in even more casualty figures... and so on. And then, at the end of the bound, having inflicted all that pain and suffering on the enemy, one would tally the casualty figures placed on the opposition, evaluate them in terms of Victory Points, and use these Victory Points (VP) to eliminate specific enemy units. In other words, the casualties themselves didn't cause units to be destroyed, they only provided a means to gain VP, and with enough VP, one could focus on a particularly nasty enemy unit, and attempt to have it permanently withdraw. On the first go-round, Fred Haub appeared to command the outnumbered defenders, and our encounter lasted for about 5 full bounds. Then he left. What was interesting about the 5 bounds was that no one died! After 5 bounds, there were just as many men on the table as at the beginning of the encounter! Remember that my basic intent had been to provide Victory Points, sufficient to cause enemy units to disappear. Obviously, something was wrong. We each, during our own half of each bound, had moved, had fired, had routed enemy units, had engaged in close assault... but it appeared I went overboard in my attempt to limit casualties. Losses to the individual squads were only temporary, and after a while, the men, those just registered as casualties, would pop right back on the field. While I had made provision for temporary casualties, I had made very little provision for permanent 'kills'. Remember that these kills were supposed to have been provided for by an accumulation of Victory Points (VP). Earn enough VP, and you could point to an enemy unit and have it take a mandatory reaction/morale check. If it failed, it was removed from the field. But there weren't enough VID, hence there weren't enough mandatory reaction tests. And so, General Haub had gone, and I was left with a table-top full of figures... here was a chance to carry on and put some teeth in the 'kill' rules. VP were earned by smacking the opponent. In the firing phase, the firing side's units determined their total Probability of Hit (POH), and tossed percentage dice, attempting to throw below the POH. A successful toss caused one casualty figure to be placed on the target unit. But a very low toss (below half the POH) produced two bad effects: a. The target unit received one casualty figure, and b. One man from the target unit was placed in the Rally Zone. At the end of the half-bound, therefore, there were units with casualty figures, and men on both sides who had fled to the Rally Zone. Here was where I beefed up (or thought I had beefed up) the kill percentages. This was a three-phase affair. a. First, each side determined how many points it had gathered by counting the opposing casualty figures and the men in the enemy Rally Zone: Each casualty figure counts as 1 point Each man in the Rally Zone counts as 2 points b. Second, the sides diced to convert the points they had just collected into VP: 01 to 33 Each point counts as 4 VP 34 to 66 Each point counts as 3 VP 67 to 100 Each point counts as 2 VP C. Third, the sides used their VP's to eliminate enemy units. A particular enemy unit was selected to take a destructive reaction test... fail the test, and the unit fled the field. In this destructive test, a negative modifier was the number of VP's devoted to the testing unit. For example, if a unit had one missing man (he was in the Rally Zone and had failed to rally), and 23 VP's were devoted to the test, the unit's Reaction Level went down by 33 percent. The testing unit's Reaction Level always started at 80 percent: Reaction Level = 80 less 10 (for missing man) less 23 (for the applied VP) Reaction Level = 80 less 33, or 47 percent It was in the second phase, as described above, that the kill percentages increased. If a side placed, say, 4 casualty figures on the opposition, then at the end of the half-bound, when the effect of the casualties were noted, it could collect a minimum of 8, and maximum of 16 VP. And remember that this conversion to VP took place every half-bound. The side could accumulate its VP, hoarding them for a bound or so, until it had a 'respectable' number of VP, and then swoop down on an enemy unit, and force it to take the destructive reaction test. Given the above diabolical system, how did it work out on the table-top? Unfortunately... it didn't. Not for the second go-round. General Jim 'Scorched Earth' Butters showed up and he volunteered to take the command of the attacking force. On the first turn, his lead tank showed itself, and BLAM!, in the fire phase, my anti-tank gun put a hurt on it. The tank commander took a morale test, failed, thought the better of the affair, and retreated 10 inches. All units commenced a morale test with a base percentage of 80. Each casualty figure on the unit deducted 10 percent from the base. Here, the tank had 2 casualty figures in its crew (knocking off -20 percent), and another -10 percent for being blasted by the anti-tank gun. The resultant morale factor for the tank was 50 percent... and the tank commander failed. Digression Now I looked around for another target for my anti-tank gun, and I ordered the crew to zero in on one of Scorch's infantry squads. "Wait!", said Scorch. "Everyone knows that anti-tank guns carry no provisions for firing antipersonnel HE. All they carry is armor piercing ammunition." Due to sheer laziness on my part, I had no comeback. I had never done any research on the content of the ammo boxes carried by the anti-tank gun crews. Over the years, we've discussed this issue at my ping pong table, and gotten various and conflicting opinions on the subject. Unfortunately, all of the opinions were based on other wargames rules systems. It is well known that wargamers do their basic research, in fact, all their research, by reading wargame rules sets. Whichever rules set a gamer will first pick up, will govern his thoughts forever after. To my mind, logic would have it that the gun captain would have told his ammo supply sergeant to toss in one or two teeny weeny anti-personnel rounds, just in case there were no armored targets available. And I can assure you, that when I'm appointed Head of the JCS (the letter is probably in the mail even as I write this), my first action will be to advise the President to issue a memo to all anti-tank gun crew captains, mandating that they carry anti-personnel HE. End of digression. What? No Targets? But here, in this game, because of Scorch's timely comment, my anti-tank gun was bereft of targets (until the enemy tank rumbled up again). So despondent were the crewmen, that when one of Scorch's infantry units fired on them, they routed back and left the gun behind. (a) When the infantry fired, they added their fire points to get their basic POH (b) Each infantryman in the 3-man squad contributed 1 point, yielding 3 points An accompanying LIVIG contributed another 3 points (c) The gun crew was under cover, hence the total of 6 points was multiplied by 7 to get a POH of 6x7, or 42 percent. (d) The infantry tossed under 42, and the crew took a casualty figure. (e) The crew then took a morale test, starting at a base level of 80 percent. It deducted 10 percent for the casualty figure, giving a net of 70 percent... and it failed. (f) It fell back 10 inches, and picked up another casualty figure, which would later be used to furnish Scorch with VP. Note in step (c) above, the multiplier for a target in cover was 7. If a target was in the open, the multiplier would have been increased to '10', thus increasing the POH. And so Scorch and I flailed away at each other, hoping to amass VP sufficient to cause enemy units to flee the field. I lucked out... after gathering 34 VP, I focused them all on one of Scorch's tanks. The tank had been hit, hence had a smoke puff attached. The tank's morale level commenced at 80 percent, and we reduced this by (a) -34 points for the VP I inflicted on it (b) -10 points for the hit it displayed This gave the tank commander a resultant morale level of 80-44, or 36 percent... the man just couldn't hack it... and he drove off the field, and Scorch stood there. A couple of bounds later, I zeroed in on Scorch's other tank. Again, I applied about 30 VP to the unit, and the tank commander followed his predecessor off the field. A third attempt of mine failed... this time I looked at Scorch's K Squad, which held a critical ridge on the field. But K Squad proved to be of tougher mettle than the tank commanders... when it tested, K Squad tossed low on its destructive morale test and held position. Scorch, on the other hand, was extremely unlucky in all his endeavors to destroy my defending units. At one point, he focused 40 VP on a squad, but couldn't budge it. Which meant that 40 VP had gone up in smoke. The concept proved interesting in that it permitted the sides to attempt to eliminate specific, irritating units, which, if they could be dispersed, would open up the game. This was evident in my concentration on the opposing tanks. Alas! Once again, there simply weren't enough VP provided to the sides. We had to wait far too long to accumulate a quantity of VP to make it worthwhile to 'invest' it in the destruction of an enemy unit. An insufficient number of VP, when applied to a unit, simply was a waste of good assets. And so, now, referring back to the title of this article, I've got two strikes against me... and WHOPPO!... in the third game presentation, it appeared I ironed things out. Note that I didn't hit a home run... I only got a single. All procedures are the same as before, but this time, I increased the availability of VP. At the end of the half-bound, when both sides looked to the casualties they had placed on the opposition, the following table was used: 01 to 33 Each casualty figure converts to 10 VP 34 to 66 Each casualty figure converts to 8 VP 67 to 100 Each casualty figure converts to 6 VP In the table formerly used, the most a casualty figure could provide, in terms of VIP, was 6... now the number was 'upped' to 10. Unfortunately, I had run out of weekend opponents, and fought this last battle solo in the middle of the week. To recap the forces: Attacker: 6 infantry squads, and 2 tanks Defender 3 infantry squads, 1 anti-tank gun, 1 tank The sequence for the half-bound was composed of 5 phases Active Side moves all units Non-Active Side fires all units Active and Non-Active Side each select one unit to fire Close assault Both sides collect VP, attempt to destroy enemy units In this third encounter, it took 5 bounds, at which time it was apparent that the attacking side had won the field. Two defending squads were wiped out, as was the single defending tank. And the anti-tank gun had been captured. No contest. VP mounted up much more rapidly than before. At one point, the defender had accumulated 74 VP, and devoted 50 points of this total to one of the attacking enemy tanks. This reduced the tank's morale level to 30 percent... the tank commander failed his test, and his tank went off the field. The remaining 24 VP points of the defenders total were applied to an enemy machine gun squad. The squad held on, and the 24 VP were essentially lost. Back to PW Review July 1999 Table of Contents Back to PW Review List of Issues Back to MagWeb Master Magazine List © Copyright 1999 Wally Simon 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