In his article, Tmima Stratiotikon Plirophorion (Saga, Sept.-Oct. 1999, pp. 30-32), P. R. Gray seemed to be suggesting that logistical factors are more appropriate to campaign rules than battle rules. He encapsulated this by paraphrasing Sun Zi (or "Sun Tzu" - in the older Wade-Giles romanization system for Chinese), i.e., " . . . the most successful general is the one who wins without fighting a battle." The validity of this struck me because I once played a campaign that gradually evolved into a game of maneuvering, posturing and secret, often shifting, alliances, with battle engagements becoming less and less as we went on. And, it was the logistical factors in the campaign rules that structured the way the campaign was fought out.

During the latter half of the '80s and early '90s in Hong Kong, our wargaming club was able to field 27 different (!) 15 mm Biblical-period "chariot" armies. One of our most dedicated "lead-luggers" organized a campaign in which each army began by controlling a capital city and one fortress town in its own territory, and then made a series of "grand tactical" moves, i.e., one move per every two weeks in real time, by sending part or all of its standing army into a neighboring territory with the objective of occupying a town or fortress belonging to his neighbor. The size of these armies was expressed in terms of the "point" system of the rules we were using at the time.

These moves were made by phone or fax notification to the referee, who would then advise each player if his move brought him into close proximity to another army. Each of the players involved would then choose whether to retreat or fight. Naturally, a retreat by one of the armies would yield the threatened city or town to the other. If both chose to fight, the referee would fax to each CiC a map of the terrain for the engagement, and the location of each army on the map. The players would then have two weeks in which to get together and go at it. The referee would be informed of the battle results.

At the end of the campaigning season (marked by a specified number of grand tactical moves), each player would be allocated a certain number of points, expressed as "drachmas," based on the number of cities and towns it held. These points would be used to "purchase" additions to the remainder of its army. (Units lost in any engagement(s) could not be replaced until the end of the campaigning season, expressed as "winter.") Given that some armies would end up with more territory than others, their subsequently larger "recruitment" would provide the momentum for empire building. Armies that shrank would correspondingly shift their strategic objectives to mere survival in the next campaign season.

It would seem that this aspect of the campaign reflected, in a simple way, the respective, and changing, logistical capabilities of the various armies.

In this campaign, my Hebrews held initially Jerusalem and Megiddo. I knew I was "small fry" compared to some of the other players, but I saw that there was no Phoenician army in the game, and therefore I sent a force of about 1200 points (by WRG system) rushing rashly towards Tyre – an unguarded city. Even worse, I split my forces, sending about 300 points worth of Aramaean allies on a flanking movement.

After faxing my "move" to the referee, he came back with the message that my expeditionary force had run smack into approximately 3000 points worth of Egyptians who had arrived by sea and had at that moment already landed about half their forces just outside the city of Tyre . . . . Whoops!

Without going into the gory details, I will say that I chose to stand and fight, and somehow managed to affect a draw of sorts, extricating myself without too many losses. (The best part was when the Egyptian HI Royal Guard routed, splash, into the Mediterranean Sea.)

Caution

Developing a touch of cautious wisdom as a result of that bloody nose, I began to look around for a suitable alliance. Other players having learned the same lesson from their first forays, "secret" negotiations became rather continuous and complex. One such agreement started when the Babylonian CiC called me one evening with a proposal, expressed in an almost sepulchral voice, that resulted in the following arrangement: The Hebrews would send an 1100 points' army to the mouth of the Persian Gulf as a flanking movement to assist the Babylonians defend against an invasion by the Harappan Indians. The Babylonians would guarantee that we would not be attacked when crossing Midianite territory. (He already had some sort of alliance with them!) Also, the Babylonians would guard Israel's' back against any attack by the Assyrians. (The Aramaeans didn't worry me because we had just concluded a mutual defense pact.) Given a successful defense, Babylonia would give the Hebrews the income from the first town or city the captured in their bid for empire at the end of that campaign year. Here, again, the logistics factor came into play.

One interesting aspect of all this maneuvering was that the Indians found out about the Babylonian-Hebrew alliance (the campaign rules contained a mechanism for "spies"), and withdrew before we could effect an engagement.

While this campaign was a lot of fun, it did require a lot of players living within reasonably close proximity to permit battles to occur within the (real) time requirements. Also, as P. R. Gray pointed out, for gamers who want to get into tabletop action, this kind of campaign falls into the category of "interesting comment only."