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Just a heads up that the the May edition of Wargames Illustrated has a feature on the next version of the Napoleonic Skirmish rules from Too Fat Lardies.
(19-02-2016, 02:11 PM)Stuart Wrote: [ -> ]Just a heads up that the the May edition of Wargames Illustrated has a feature on the next version of the Napoleonic Skirmish rules from Too Fat Lardies.

My good lady subscribed me for 12 months for my birthday - and you get a £25 voucher for Warlord Games, so Big GrinCool
Hmmm, might need to resubscribe I think! There's a good variety of material in there since they became independent from Battlefront.
(19-02-2016, 02:50 PM)Stuart Wrote: [ -> ]Hmmm, might need to resubscribe I think! There's a good variety of material in there since they became independent from Battlefront.

I am still reading current issue - Battles/Wars that never were... all good stuff.

Reminds me I quite fancied adding some of those 'SteamPunk (?)' machines and 'zombie' figures to BoltAction...

Maybe later... ...meantime very close to having my initial CoC Platoon completed.
Winter 1809

Colonel Stewart looked around at his command. 5 ragtag battalions, tasked with stopping the French from catching the retreating British Army.
Commands had gone out, turn and face.
" This is it boys, let's show these crapauds how we fight in Scotland."
His regiment, the Black Watch cheered and waited.
Stewart glanced to his left, noting the half battalion of Portuguese Cascadores his themselves in the folds of the ground. To their left was a small wood, which Stewart knew hid some Rifle men from the 60th .
Just behind that the record of the South Essex, then some 95th rifles. The Left flank was protected by some more Cascadores. Then he noticed just to their right and about 100yds nearer the French was a battalion of Portuguese line infantry.
" Keen buggers ain't they? McPherson,  compliments to their commanding officer, but would they leave some frogs for the rest of us and take up a position further back".
Looking back towards his front , he could now see the first French battalions advancing,  the drums beating a steady rhythm. All along the allied line weapons were brought up into the shoulder.
A crash erupted on the left as the Portuguese opened fire on a battalion that had appeared right in front of them. The French fired too, both units disappearing in a cloud of smoke.
Someone swore in his own unit, and then he saw why. 3 battalions were facing his. Unfair odds, but he was unlikely to even the fight by sending half his battalion away.
More firing now all across the line.
The Rifles and the Cascadores taking the French with the more accurate rifles. Casualties were now being moved out of both opposing lines, sergeants pulling men to close the gaps,  making it appear as if the battalions were shrinking towards the middle.
An aide pointed to the rear left, where horsemen appeared out of the go
hills. The Cascadores on that flank scurried towards them, letting loose carefully aimed shots, effectively neutralizing the threat.
In the centre the South Essex about faced and moved into the village in support. 
The Portuguese regiment were now in trouble , shuffling backwards, their commanding officer killed in the opening exchange.
On the right the Black Watch,  Rifles and Cascadores kept up a withering fire, one French battalion first withdrawing then routing through the remaining forces.
More troops were coming through the hills, hitting the killing zone of the Cascadores, before managing to face the threat. The Hussars that had come on previously turned and ran out of rifle range.
The French to the British front had been stopped, men refusing to move forward into the deadly British fire.
Now a new battalion moved forward to face the Scots, Napoleons young Guard. A worthy opponent indeed.
Orders rang out and the British line edged backwards into the village.
Cutting them off from the bridge and safety were now another 2 battalions of infantry and some Dragoons.
The fight now looked like it might turn in favour of the French.
Now was the time for brave men , and the South Essex didn't disappoint,  finally getting into the fight and pouring lead into the Dragoons and Germans. Ably supported by Rifles and Cascadores they held the village. The Pi
Portuguese managed to retreat out of range of the French, as some Cascadores covered them, the French not inclined to follow.
The day was now Stewart's. The French had lost all enthusiasm for the fight and melted back into the hills.
The rearguard could now retire in good order and remain the remaining allied forces.
Spring 1810

George was not happy. An Ensign in the Portuguese army, life, recently had been good. He commanded a detachment of Cascadores, and along with some Portuguese line infantry had been tasked with guarding this bridge which sat on the border with Spain. Most days they were costed by officers from the French battalion positioned across the river in Spain. Articles and gossip was exchanged and a pleasant day had, as the war passed them by. In fact George had a cask of Port he had promised in exchange for some decent French wine.
But today the Gods and Command had conspired against him. Headquarters had decided to sent a Spanish Regiment across the bridge, to have the honour of being the first to regain Spanish soil. With them had come some babysitters, a detachment of Black Watch, some Rifles and a battalion of redcoats.
George had also crossed the bridge, and watched the preposterous Spaniards , in their garish uniforms parade up the pasture.
Movement and a reflection caught his eye, and he could make out the arrival of the French. They stopped at the edge of the pasture, obviously surprised to see a new regiment. They formed line and brought their weapons into the salute, as a mark of respect.
Spanish officers could be heard shouting, as they brought their muskets to the shoulder. Then the day went bad as the Spanish opened fire..
Around George everyone went silent, not believing what they had just witnessed. The French were no threat, But now the war had crept into the quiet.
It Stu , with the Black Watch cursed, then rapidly spat out orders, in English and Spanish.
The South Essex moved forward, extending into line. The Rifles disappeared into a rocky outcrop on the left flank.
George blew his whistle, and his men made for a hill on the right. More movement to his right made him look up.Another French battalion appeared in line.
That evened the odds. The Spanish were now in full retreat, not a bad thing as if the French got them it would be a political disaster. This left the small half company of Black Watch on their own in the centre. With disciplined precision they fired, reloaded and fired again.
The French advanced in both sides, holding fire at this extreme range.
The British moved forward, pushing the Spanish behind them. They now formed a firing line, hoping to make a stand.
It Stu now noticed Redcoats forming on his right and Green jackets to his left. Cascadores anchoring the right flank.
One of the French battalions fired, musket balls ripping into the British line, casualties dropping from each unit.
The Allied skirmishers with their longer ranged weapons, were now taking a toll on the French, an officer taking a bullet through his throat.
The second French battalion fired too, but to no great effect.
The British concentrated on the one battalion, forcing in back and back, littering the pasture with the dead and dying.
The second French battalion continued to fire, but were now outnumbered.
With one battalion virtually destroyed, thanks to the disciplined fire of the British, the second one turned round and marched from the field.
When George turned round he could see the Spanish, on the Portuguese side of the river, brandishing their weapons, oblivious to the fact they had fired one volley and run away.
The field belonged to the British, and George knew he never going to get his wine.