AWI 250 project

Next year will see the 250th anniversary of the shot that was heard around the world, and in preparation for a series of anniversary games I have been working on some small, simple scenarios to play with my brother-in-law.

I've initially gone for the One Hour Wargames format to make a short game that we can play a couple of times in an evening and still have some time left over to argue about how it might have gone differently.  Concord is a tough place to start; what kind of result could be counted as a win for the Crown forces?  If they had arrived sooner, without the rebels being tipped off by their network of spies, then they might have recovered some supplies or captured Adams and Hancock, but that depends on factors that would not be played out on the tabletop.  In some ways a search of all the places of interest followed by an orderly withdrawal is as good a result as could be hoped for.

Lexington presents a better scenario for a tabletop battle.  The outnumbered British must keep marching toward Boston, rarely having time to halt and return fire, while the rebels cause as many casualties as possible.  Can the Crown forces reach Charlestown before dark in a state of effectiveness?  Unfortunately the outcome will depend more on lucky or unlucky dice than any cunning plan or wise choices by the commanders.

Instead of these, I started with the first battle that I learned about at school: the incorrectly named Bunker Hill.  The plan was to capture Bunker's Hill, but all the fighting was about Breed's Hill on the way.  Both commanders had choices about the placement of their forces which can significantly affect the outcome.

Opposing forces deployed and ready

I've tried to follow the format of OHW, so that forces could be generated randomly, but also identified the forces that were involved historically (allowing for significant artistic license to fit within a small table and 6 units).  As we tackle more battles the file will grow into a complete scenario book.  The latest version is available [here].

The scenario map

I played the scenario solo a few times to develop it, then Trevor came round and we played twice.  On the first outing Trevor took the rebels and moved his skirmishers back to the North of Charlestown, while placing the artillery and line troops in the redoubt.  My Crown forces advanced within range of the redoubt and halted to fire, clearing the redoubt in a few turns before advancing to complete their mission.

Skirmishers in Charlestown

On the second attempt Trevor put his skirmishers at the South end of Charlestown, with two infantry units in the redoubt and his artillery back on Bunker's Hill.  This time a continuous fire on the Crown forces, focused on a single regiment at a time, saw my regiments break and run one by one without clearing the redoubt.

I'm going to say that this is ready for us to use next June.  I'll keep thinking about how to make a playable game out of Lexington and Concord while I move on to the next campaign.

Until next time, health & happiness to you all.

Hopton Heath solo

I'm continuing to work through Mike Lambo's solo game book Battles of the English Civil War, following my glorious victory at Braddock Down [link].  The next scenario is Hopton Heath, and the book sets the Parliament player (me) the objective of killing the Earl of Northampton.  This is rather removed from the historical battle [see https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Battle_of_Hopton_Heath] where the Earl died leading a cavalry charge.  However, the Earl's death was just about Parliament's only positive point from the outcome of the battle.

setup and order dice for turn 1

As  you can see, I deployed my force along the ridge (of cork mats) while the Earl of Northampton (hiding behind the trees, top right) set up his "roaring megs" centrally, with horse on both flanks and a scattered foot force strewn all about the field.  That's what happens when you let the dice decide.  My plan is to let my cavalry deal with one wing of his horse first, then shift across to the other wing.  Meanwhile I don't roll enough movement orders (1s to 3s) to advance my infantry.

The Earl manoeuvred his force, with his right wing charging into Brereton's cavalry, but to no effect.

On turn 2 Brereton's cavalry threw back the royalist horse (which left the field on the royalist turn), while Gell's foot troops advanced to the front of the ridge.

The Earl's canon opened fire, but without effect.  However the pikemen hiding in the woods charged into my horse, with supporting fire from a unit of shot, and drove them from the field.  So our losses are even, but my force is still outnumbered, with the uphill task to reach the royalist headquarters and defeat it.

Turn 3, I moved around a bit, not closing with the enemy.  In response, the Earl's remaining cavalry charged up the ridge into my pike - never a good plan, but the only target they could reach.

Turn 4 my troops all converged on the royalist horsemen and utterly routed them.

In the Earl's turn, the canon blew away one of my pike units, while massed musketry routed the other.

Not looking good

At this point my only hope is to send the remaining cavalry wide to the right and then charge the Earl unsupported.  If the royalists are slow to react, I should get two attacks before the light fails, with a slim chance of winning (albeit a pyrrhic victory).

I'm going to raise two comments about the rules now, rather than wait to the end.  Firstly the ability of canon to fire through friendly units, even when they are engaged in hand-to-hand combat with the canon's target.  Those must be very skilled artillerists to judge the elevation so precisely.  And secondly I've noticed that my bold cavalry end-run could get stuck into the Earl's HQ a turn sooner if I send it straight through those trees directly in front of the Earl's position.  I can't find any penalty to the cavalry for charging through a wood.

These are both observations to the effect that the simple rules provided by Mike Lambo are just a little too simple for my taste.  I'm going to send the cavalry around the trees anyway, partly from a sense of what feels right, but also to keep them further from the royalist foot troops, to make sure they are not halted by some roaming block of pikemen.

The cavalry gallop wide and my two units of shot face 3 pikes, 2 shot and 2 canon.  Thanks to the way the royalist forces have formed up in a long column to attack, even a modest push-back sent the leading pike block off the field (because there was no space for it to halt its retreat).

"Roaring megs" blew away one of my two units of shot and now I'm worried that I may not have enough units left, because fewer units mean fewer order dice get rolled each turn and I want to be sure of having a move order for the cavalry.

My remaining shot move around to avoid combat as much as possible, but it does no good and they are taken out by lucky royalist shooting at maximum range.  The royalist pikes start to move toward my cavalry.

On turn 8 my cavalry fail to roll a move order.  The odds against me have just lengthened significantly.

Two moves left to reach the Earl

On turn 9 the cavalry resume their charge; the royalist shot are ineffective, the royalist pike just stand and watch.  One move left to close with the Earl.

I rolled an attack order.  Cavalry can only attack an adjacent target.  The battle is over, the sun sets and the Earl of Northampton holds the field.

Epilogue

The following day I played the scenario again, since the table was still laid out and ready.  The royalist play seemed more aggressive, with both cavalry units together on the Earl's left wing.  The big guns remained a constant threat and for several turns the dice were not my friends.  But eventually the tide of casualties went my way, with three of my units lost to six of the royalist units.  I still had both cavalry left, so I started the same end-run charge tactic and this time the Earl's headquarters was routed on turn 9.

My triumphant cavalry close with the Earl.  One unit already in contact while the other is about to charge through the woods to reach him.

Until next time, health & happiness to you all.

Board Game Lounge

Last night I went out to a local community centre for an evening of board games.  They are now doing this twice a month on slightly different formats.  As usual, I went with my brother-in-law (or maybe he isn't - you can read me waffle on about in-laws [here] if you're interested).  We were there a little before the 7pm start time, because the car park fills up quickly.  As a result we helped set up the hall.

Anyway, it was a good evening out.  It's also very good value.  For £3 you get the use of the hall (tables and chairs) and free coffee or tea, along with one ticket for the prize draw.  Extra tickets are 50p each and there are boardgames for prizes.  Because there were only two of us, we stuck up our sign for 3 more players and were soon joined by a young guy on his own and a couple who live a few miles away.  Everyone was friendly and we enjoyed a couple of games in the 3-hour session.

Heat - US track

First we played Heat by Days of Wonder, which Trevor had brought.  None of us had played this one before, but Trevor had read the rules and watched some videos of how to play.  We played the two-lap US track.  It took about half a lap for people to remember to claim the advantages of being at the back and to remember that they could boost their speed at the cost of some heat in the engine.  By the closing half-a-lap they were recklessly charging around tight corners far too fast and just hoping to make it past the finish line.

For the record, I was in last place on the starting grid and finished second-to-last, so I count that as a positive result.  There were times that I had the lead, but just couldn't find the high cards for the final dash.  The handicapping system works well to keep the cars close together on the track (one square extra move for last place and slipstream benefits when catching another car), and the last two corners saw all 5 cars bunched up into 3 sections of track.  It could not have been closer.

Unstable Unicorns

Our other game was Unstable Unicorns, which looks like it should be all fluffy fun for little girls, but is actually quite mean as the players gang up to pick on whoever looks to be in the lead.  You win by having 7 unicorns in play, and once Jem became the first player to have 6 unicorns down the rest of us were most unpleasant to him.  As a result, Trevor and I managed to catch up with him and reach 6 as well, and then the meanness was spread around more evenly to take us back down to 5.  Eventually I got lucky with a ginormous unicorn (counting as two) at a moment when all the defensive cards had been used up to avoid Jem winning.

This is probably a game that favours regular players who will recognise the card combinations and winning moves, but it was the first time any of us had played, so nobody had an advantage.

At 10pm the raffle was drawn, and I think six games were handed out as prizes, but not to any of our table.  Then there were three lucky people who played Higher or Lower to win a free admission to the next session.  Only one of them won it.  And then there was half an hour to finish off any games that were still going and head for home.

Until next time, health & happiness to you all.

Third quarter reading

Another quarter ends, and I've not forgotten how to read, but haven't maintained much of a pace.

Richard Coles - A Death in the Parish

I mentioned [here] that the reverend Richard's first novel had rather too much about what a vicar's life involves, but I was hoping he might have got that out of his system and settle down to focus on a whodunnit.  Sadly for me in his second novel he doubles down on the ecclesastical side, by adding a second vicar to the story.  This allows for plenty of discussion about different kinds of vicar with differences in their beliefs and different views on how to serve their parish.

In contrast, the whodunnit aspect seems even thinner than the first novel.  There are two deaths in the parish (or in the next parish), but Canon Clement seems to form no theories and follow no red herrings.  It probably depends what you look for in a crime novel, but I was expecting a number of plausible suspects with motives and questionable accounts of their whereabouts, and a smattering of false or inaccurate statements, so that the reader can play along and try to work out the culprit before the detective collars him or her.  Thank goodness there's a real police detective in the story to sort things out.

Randall Monroe - What If?

I'm a big fan of the XKCD web comic [xkcd.com].  Even after such a long time, Randall Monroe still manages to find new laugh-out-loud humour for geeks like me.

The book was a mixture.  There were surprising questions like how long could you surprise in space if you were inside a nuclear submarine.  There were fascinating ideas that had not occurred to me, like the rule of thumb for how many pronounceable combinations of letters can exist in a particular length of word.  On the other hand, there were some very odd assumptions between the question and the answer: what if the world stopped spinning?  The answer assumes that the planet stops suddenly but the atmosphere continues to rotate, which raises the question of what kind of action could cause that?  Would it be more likely for the planet's rotation to slowly decrease to an eventual halt, and the atmosphere with it?

So a mixed verdict, with brilliant moments and frustrating ones combined.

Robert Thorogood - The Queen of Poisons

This is the third in the series of Marlow Murder Club novels.  We've had a story with airtight alibis, and a locked-room mystery.  Now we have a murder where all the suspects were in the room and nobody saw it.  It's great fun and my only gripe is that the amateur detectives spent too much of the novel bouncing from one suspect to another and being wrong each time.  I know it's a trope of cosy crime, because my friend David was moaning about it at the reunion, but it felt like the old saying "at least a clock that has stopped tells the right time twice a day".

Robert Thorogood always plays fair by the reader, and the murder scene contained all the clues to questions that puzzled the amateur detectives for the first half of the book.

Greg Costikyan - Uncertainty in Games

This wasn't the book I was expecting.  It was mentioned in a discussion about game design, and appeared to be a recommendation for people who fuss about what kind of randomness to use, percentile dice, buckets of six-sided ones, different shapes for different units (with bigger dice effectively adding as plusses) and so on.  But that's not what it's about at all.

Costikyan's point is that all the interest in a game is about the unpredictable outcome (or in a few cases an unpredictable route to the inevitable outcome).  That's why nobody over the age of about 10 plays noughts and crosses (or tic-tac-toe in the USA).  Some games rely on a player's skill (e.g. throwing darts at a board), or the fact that there are too many choices to analyse fully (like chess), or random factors like cards or dice, and this book is a survey of what kind of uncertainty applies to each game.  It covers board games, computer games, a broad range.  I found it interesting to read, despite being nothing like what I expected.

Tom Hindle - Murder on Lake Garda

This was a birthday present and the location (Lake Garda) was somewhere I've been on several holidays, so the description of the setting brought back memories.  There are several crimes in the story and the connections between them create an intriguing situation.  Something out of place is a clue, but to which crime?

Disappointingly for me the novel jumps about from one character's point of view to another, using maybe half of the key characters to tell the story.  It's a way for the author to tell us about the history of the characters' relationships when they reflect on how they find themselves in this situation, without having to contrive a conversation where they might talk about it.  Unfortunately, when the character wonders who could have committed the murder it becomes a way of removing suspects from that crime, which is a shame.  As a result, even with important information only being available late on, I was already shouting the solution at the main amateur detective and wondering how she could fail to see something so obvious.

In fairness the story maintains interest even after the culprit(s) are identified, because there are still armed criminals on the loose for the other characters to deal with.  But I still can't recommend this one as whole-heartedly as I'd hoped.

Until next time, health & happiness to you all.

Gaming reunion 2024

It's been quite a long time since a bunch of people met at university, discovered a shared interest in games and became friends.  This week one of that group has kindly hosted another six of us to spend a week at his place, playing boardgames, Dungeons & Dragons, eating and drinking too much and generally having a good time.  It's great to catch up with people that I now only see on Zoom conferences or a couple of times a year face to face.

The antiques roadshow - old geezers

Midsomer Norton is a surprising town, with the biggest Wetherspoons in England (hidden behind an unimpressive front door).  There's also a model shop, so I picked up some more static grass, since I'm running out and my local shop has gone.

big 'Spoons

Before Dafydd arrived on Friday we got in a quick game of Diplomacy (Dafydd hates that game), followed by a very long game of Citadels (billed as a quick card game, but soon wallowing in analysis paralysis).  Trevor pulled off a very close victory by playing the card that causes an early end to the game with 7 districts instead of the usual 8 when he was just a couple of points in the lead.

Saturday dawned bright and sunny, although I was suffering from a hair of the dog.  Literally.  Matt's dog Rufus had been in to inspect the visitors on Friday evening.  I react badly to all furry creatures, and was sneezing with my eyes watering and generally feeling pretty poor.  As is traditional, a few of us spent the morning at the local shops to forage for provisions (and in my case enjoy some fresh air).

Lunchtime saw a first game of It's a Wonderful World, a kind of variation on Seven Wonders.  As a new thing, we all missed the point of how to play well and performed poorly.

It's A Wonderful World

In the evening, Darrell cooked pork chops for us, followed by a seriously extravagant cheeseboard (Baron bigod, Vacherin, High Moor, aged Gouda and a dozen other smelly delights)

pork chops flambée

Sunday morning we revisited It's a Wonderful World now we know how to play.  To my surprise, I came first on 61 points, followed by others on 60, 59 & 58.  It could hardly have been closer.

Then we moved on to D&D.  Massive trouble was stirred up when the party visited a friendly elf noble in Larston.  We stayed at his town house, but one of the Chaos faction raised an angry mob, supported by hired mercenaries and spellcasters.  There were people breaking in on the ground floor, fireballs cast through the windows on the first floor, the rear wall partly disintegrated, and earth elementals summoned to undermine the foundations and demolish the house around us.  Never before have I heard the expression "abandon house!"

D&D - fighting on a floorplan

Chinese takeaway for dinner, home-made Irish coffee, filler games (The Mind and Maior, see notes at the end of this post), time for bed.

Irish coffee

Monday we played a "quick" game of Starfarers of Catan in only 4 hours - not a great choice.  I languished in last place with dreadful production until one strange turn at the half-way stage when I jumped into first place and was the first one to be too successful to receive charity resources on my turn.  It still felt like I was last, right up to the final turn when Matt was in first place, needing only one more point to win.  Matt rolled poorly, couldn't score.  When it came around to me, I scored another leap forward and won.

Starfarers of Catan

The problem with the Catan games is that a bad start just gets worse, while early success allows a player to build villages and then gather extra resources each turn and push further in front.  It can be so disheartening to keep going with a bad position.  Although obviously I don't get to moan about this particular game, since I found a way to buy the victory (with fame rings, using one of the alien trade cards).

Another game of It's a Wonderful World, which Darrell won by a landslide with 93 points.

Dafydd cooked ragu with penne for dinner, followed by more cheese and port.

Then a game of Obsession, a social climbing game with worker placement for the servants and also the family.  I'd describe it as multiplayer solitaire, with very little scope for any player to affect the others.  Only one player is doing anything at a time, so the game grinds to a halt while David decides what to do.  It's not possible to all play in parallel, because we're all trying to by improvements to our country houses from the same pool of available options until one is bought and replenished.  We called it a night and resumed on Tuesday.  I'd guess that a 6-player game took us something like 6 hours, including teaching the rules, eating lunch and other faffing about.  It probably won't be back on the table very soon.

Dafydd won narrowly over David, Trevor & Darrell, commenting that he had felt like he was doing badly the whole time.  Matt almost managed a negative score.

Tuesday afternoon's D&D started at 5pm, delayed by the long boardgame.  There was a break for dinner, coq au vin by David with some serious wines and then chocolate fudge cake, after which the group were somewhat low on energy for serious gaming.

fudge cake

Wednesday - another Wonderful World (Dafydd won this time), then the new Kingmaker.  This was a great trip down memory lane, with all the usual shenanigans.  I had Scrope (as archbishop of York) & Percy with his troops, so spent my first turn travelling to York, grabbing Richard and getting him crowned.  My ally Up North was Matt, who spent his turn grabbing Durham, only to get caught by the plague straight away.  Dafydd grabbed Henry VI when we was called away to meet a papal emissary.  We had about 5 turns of fun, most people were getting nowhere, then Matt made nachos and we decided it had been fun, but we'd had enough.  Exactly how I remember it from school days.

Knights with nachos

Then we moved on to more D&D.  The party made a hasty departure from Larston and went to see the Blue Witch at the far end of the island.  She told us that Saratak had been waiting a week to speak to us, but if we had time she would like to speak to a goblin somewhere in the nearby desert, so could we find him and bring him to see her?  She's busy trying to control the growth of the desert, which is only there because she had a fight with another dragon rider, creating a mana storm and a spreading region of dead sand.  We couldn't resist, so we spent some time faffing about at the edge of the sand trying to work out why there was an army of ghostly goblins in the desert.  Faffing about letting the ghosts possess one of the party so we could ask them what was going on.  Also, faffing about trying to discover any weaknesses in the 48' tall sand elemental thing that seems to tour the desert.  No progress.

I cooked a kedgeree for dinner, the first time I've ever cooked for this number of people or in a professional kitchen, followed by more chocolate fudge cake.  People were polite enough to eat up and Dafydd even had a third helping (as well as left-over kedgeree for breakfast on Thursday).

That's a seriously big pan

We faffed about some more in the name of D&D, before deciding to go to bed before the big combat starts.

Thursday's game of Wonderful World was David's turn to win.  This has clearly become a favourite with the group.  Like Seven Wonders, each player chooses one card to build and then passes the rest around the table.  There's an additional complication that each card can be cashed in for a resource to be used for the building.  Dafydd ordered a copy today.

Dafydd also filled our downtime with The Big Knights [link here].  Highly recommended, hilarious.

The Big Knights

More D&D.  We attempt to defend the surviving goblin in the desert, while he performs a ritual to open a gate and go back to the Void along with all of his dead clanfolk (the army of ghosts we saw).  During the ritual he can not maintain the wall of fire around his camp, so the scuttling, acid-spitting beetle-things and dust dervish / sand elemental things can get in and attack him.  We would have to keep them out for three hours.  

The party has its back to a wall of ice (or cutlery) as two large sand elementals (disguised as beer cans) bring the damage. 

We fought for about an hour, when the remains of the other dragon rider turned up.  Like the sand elementals, it seemed to be made of sand & stones in a human shape.  He could throw Cone of Sand (like cone of cold) and a sand stome (like an ice storm), and when we took down all of his hit points he dissipated into a pile of sand.  Three rounds later we saw him coming back out of the dunes.  We did this a couple of times, before Dafydd has the bright idea of using holy water to cause damage that he can't regenerate.  That's another week we've kept Saratak waiting...

Friday - sad partings, with an arrangement to meet up for a pair of rock concerts in London next year.  Two of our favourite bands will be appearing on successive nights over the spring bank holiday and the tickets went on sale this week, while we were together.  It's like someone was sending us a message.

Footnotes on games

The Mind is an odd game.  The players have hands of cards from a deck numbered 1 to 100.  Without any communication, they must play the cards in order.  As the game progresses the hands become bigger (starting with 1 card each).  There are some lifelines to be earned, including regaining lives on completion of every 3rd level.  Our best score was to complete level 7 (4 players with 7 cards each) and then fail on level 8.

Maior is a bluffing game.  There are 2 dice in a box.  Each player has 3 lives.  The first player shakes the box, opens the lid to look at the dice, calls out the roll (higher number then lower) and offers it to the next player around the table.  The next player can challenge the call, in which case the box is opened and one the two loses a life, depending on whether the score was as good as the call or not.  Or the player can accept the box, may shake it some more (optional), may take a look inside (optional) and must pass it on with a call that is higher than the last call.  The order of the calls is: 31, 32, 41, 42, 43, 51, 52, 53, 54, 61, 62, 63, 64, 65, 11, 22, 33, 44, 55, 66, 21 (called "maior", the highest call).  The calls keep rising until there is a challenge and someone loses a life, after which the challenger becomes the first player and starts again.  Any challenge on a call of maior or a roll of maior in the box costs 2 lives.

Crafty players like Darrell may under-call the roll, e.g. roll 65 but call 64.  After the box has passed right round the table, he can then pass it on again as 65 without shaking or looking.

Chaotic players like Dafydd do things like accept a box with a call of 61, shake the box, don't look inside, and pass it on with a call of 62.

Until next time, health & happiness to you all.

Joshua, a druid in 1/72

You know how sometimes people decide to gloss over why they were trying to do something a particular way.  There's even a phrase "because reasons" that seems to mean "for reasons that I won't go into just now".  Well, I've got some old D&D figures in some scale that probably wasn't even named at the time, it was just the size that Citadel and other manufacturers made D&D models.  Nowadays we might call it 28mm.  Almost everything else in my collection is 1/72 scale.

The new Joshua

I settled on just one scale, because I couldn't face collecting separate buildings, bridges, fences, trees etc in a handful of different scales.  I even have 1/72 fantasy figures from Caesar and Light/Dark Alliance.  So the last time our D&D group got together face-to-face I brought a bunch of models to use and they were 1/72 with just a couple of exceptions.  The biggest exception was an old Citadel druid for David's character Joshua.  Not only is it as tall as Umar the giant, but in 40 years I'd never bothered to paint it beyond an undercoat.

We're getting together again soon, so I was talking to David about models to use.  By the way our DM typically relies on theatre of the mind for Zoom sessions, or uses spare dice for the bad guys.  Those small dee-sixes are goblins one to six, the dee-fours are ogres.  The pile of paperbacks is the cowshed and the big cardboard box is the tavern.  The figures on the upturned tumblers are still flying down from the top of the tower.  

You can probably see where my inspiration comes from when setting up a wargames table.

Anyway, I told David I'd get a proper coat of paint on the old druid model.  Which I did, just a simple base coat.  Then I picked it up for a closer look, dropped it on a hard floor and the druid's sickle snapped off.  David was very understanding.  "That's fine", he said, "Joshua doesn't use a sickle anyway.  He's got this special Rod of the Druid that was a gift from the Elven empress after we raided their temple and ..."  You don't need the whole provenance.  But this has become a serious piece of crafting now, with a weapon to be built and attached securely to the model.  On a metal figure that's a job for a pin drill and superglue and other stuff that I never use with 1/72 plastics.

At this point it occurred to me that a conversion like this may as well begin with a 1/72 scale figure, so that it fits with the rest of the party.  So I grabbed an old Airfix Robin Hood figure and got started.  There, now I've explained why I would do such an odd thing, when D&D models are readily available in larger scales, and not just "because reasons".

Airfix outlaw

The actual conversion was surprisingly simple.  I cut off the original's sword (including the hand, so I've got something to put in the spares box).  The new shield was cut from cereal box card, with planks cut from 80gsm printer paper on one side.  A new hand is cut from a piece of sprue (white) and stuck to the shield.  The "rod of the druid" is a length cut from a paper clip, with toilet paper wrapped around the top and soaked in PVA to make the head piece.

Conversion work

Then I gave it the usual treatment of a plain base coat in each area, with a wash of burnt umber on the hair, raw umber everywhere else, to fill in the creases.  Bish bash bosh job's a good 'un.  Can't wait to get it on the table.

Druids old & new

Until next time, health & happiness to you all.

Fighting Talk #3 - Grids on the tabletop

What do you think of figures games on a grid?  Are they just boardgames with prettier counters?  Do the grid markings detract from the look of the table? Or are they a convenient way to save time and avoid fiddling with rulers?  Movement and range measurement are simplified to just counting spaces, but are also contrained to specific directions by the shape of the grid.

This topic seems particularly relevant after my last report on a gridded game [link].  Obviously that grid is as ugly as anything, just like my figures and terrain, but there are plenty of examples on the internet of subtle grids and beautiful models.

Grids seem most widely used in naval and air wargames.  Perhaps the lack of specific terrain features lends itself to using a grid?  There's no need to choose specific buildings just because they fit neatly inside one grid space.

On land, there are three options for the relative size of grid spaces and units: one unit fills a grid space, several units can fit within a grid space, or units span multiple grid spaces.  The fine-grained grid (with a unit spread across multiple spaces) allows a closer conversion of distances from rules with free movement, but then forces units to align to the grain of the grid.  This seems to be the least popular approach, but I've seen it used for linear formations on land (e.g. Strength & Honour or Morschauser's original rules) and for naval games (e.g. the Portable Ironclads Wargame) where a ship fits in two spaces (fore and aft).

Image (c) David Crook

Multiple units in a grid space are more often seen, such as To The Strongest!, most Peter Pig rules or Phil Sabin's Lost Battles.  In some games the grid also forms part of the command and control system, where an order can be given to all the units in a grid space.  Effectively it's a way of affecting all units within a command radius, but without any measuring.

The Men of Company B, rules by Peter Pig RFCM

Do you get a lot of arguments in "free movement" games, when pieces are nudged, or when a unit ends its movement exactly 3mm short of the enemy's range to open fire?  I've played with people whose 6" moves were always 7" long.  Only played with them that one time, mind you.  

There are also rules that insist the players must not measure any distances in advance of announcing that a unit will move or fire, so the players have to practise guessing distances by eye.  That's a philosophy that has no place on a gridded table, where any distance is trivially easy to measure by eye.  There are also rules that use random movement distances (e.g. move 1-6 inches based on a die roll), but those are trivially adapted to a random probability of moving into the next grid space (e.g. on a 4" grid, roll 4 or higher to move one space).

What shape of grid works best (square or hexagonal, or maybe some other option)?  Square grids are easy to draw and allow 8 directions of facing (to the sides and the corners), but have the unhelpful property that diagonal moves are longer than orthogonal ones by a difficult ratio (the square root of two).  Hexagonal grids allow 6 directions of facing and movement which are all the same distance, but create a significant bias in the directions of movement.  Forming a line in one direction runs straight along the hexes, but 90 degrees from that direction and it's a wavy line that steps forward & back.  The forward hexes can be attacked from three neighbouring spaces, creating weak spots in the line.

Arty Conliffe's Crossfire is a special case.  It allows free movement by an unlimited distance into the next area of terrain.  I might argue that this is a gridded game with an irregular grid, the same shape as the scenery pieces.  It could be the perfect compromise, with no need for rulers and no need to mark spacing on the table.  Sadly it only works with a very busy table.  There have been attempts to adapt it to pre-gunpowder battles in open country (e.g. [this] and [this]), but they have resorted to measuring distances (either with a ruler or with base widths).  There may be an alternative with a grid of open terrain spaces (each maybe a hexagon 6" on a side), so that "the next terrain piece" is actually a fixed distance.

My own background of board wargames means that I am very comfortable using a hex grid, except that they are difficult to draw accurately on a tabletop for games with miniatures.  A square grid is now my favourite, counting orthogonal moves as 2 steps and diagonal moves as 3 steps.  That's close enough to the accurate distance.  This feels great for age of sail naval battles, with the wind blowing either from one of 8 directions and allowing ships to travel maybe 6 steps in a turn.  Does anyone else remember the Strategy & Tactics boardgame Fighting Sail that used this system?  There's a great game report here [link]. 

Fighting Sail

Until next time, health & happiness to you all.