Tuesday, July 8, 2025

A Handful of Dice, 

a Ruler, a Few Figurative Models, & Some Thoughts . . . 





For want of a better introduction, I will begin this improvised as well as rushed post by citing the first two sentences of Chapter 4 in Adrian Goldsworthy’s 1996 study, The Roman Army At War 100 BC—AD 200. On page 116, the gentleman scholar (then a Research Fellow as the University of Wales Cardiff) explained: “The primary purpose of any army is to defeat the enemy in battle.” In the following sentence, he qualified his perfectly-obvious-to-many statement by remarking: “This is true, even if few of its soldiers ever experience battle directly.” As I floundered about in search of my next solo wargaming project, it occurred to me that I might take a brief break from publishing middle school-level wargame reports with perhaps too much emphasis or reliance on simple diagrams and try something else. Coincidentally or ironically, the small seed of an idea was discovered during the wargaming of one of those solo scenarios. Anyway, refocusing on the two sentences transcribed from the much dog-eared and heavily annotated paperback of what I think is an educational, engaging, and excellent work of reference, it occurred to me that ancient and medieval wargamers - no matter what their level of participation or tastes with regard to tabletop contests - would completely agree with the “primary purpose” statement. The second sentence is more interesting and provides more room for interpretation, at least in my estimation, so there will probably be more factions than just two or three main groups. For a starting point, it is difficult to imagine that many ancient or medieval wargamers would like to deploy their miniature armies or other representative forms of troop types and so forth on a tabletop, only to witness a percentage of these accumulated figures and formations actually participate in the pretend battle or game. I also suppose that those among us who can present (on occasion) as more stubborn or particular, could ask for further information pertaining to the definition of the words “few” and “directly.” Is there a percentage point or level at which “few” is no longer applicable? I would imagine that 50 percent is probably the knee-jerk or common sense answer here. But what does “directly” mean in this instance? Is this reserved for melees, regardless of duration or the enemy troop type, or does this word include situations wherein a unit is targeted by an enemy formation capable of throwing or shooting missiles at it? Then again, how would morale be handled in this particular case? That is to ask, would a friendly unit “directly experience” battle when a neighboring unit was attacked by enemy elephants and broken because of the impetuous and violent charge? Would this proximity apply if the routed friendly unit was a certain - but not overly great - distance from the unit that was not physically or directly involved with what was going on? Adopting the role of ‘devil’s advocate’ for just a moment, I wonder if this second sentence could be reinforced or proven wrong if an amateur historical survey and analysis was conducted? More specifically, and understanding that the following 15 battles represent just a very small sample set of the myriad contests and engagements taking place between 3,000 BC/BCE and 1500 AD/CE, I wonder if acceptable percentages of “few” could be found for: Gaugamela; The Sambre; Dorylaeum; Cynoscephalae; Poitiers; Callinicum; Zama; Kadesh; Plataea; Chalons; Montaperti; Hydaspes; Pharsalus; Arsuf, and Paraitakene. [The source of this list was Richard Lockwood’s “Battle Day 2018” brief, which was published in Slingshot 318 (May/June 2018).]


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Scanning and skimming the aforementioned familiar and valued Goldsworthy text, I stopped on page 150 and reread the following: “Given that often an army had stood facing the enemy for hours or even days, it is not surprising that the men were nervous and tense, and that such accidents could occur.” (The accident being referred to is the premature or ‘not specifically ordered’ advance by Caesar’s legions at Thapsus.) Now then, I have never set up a solo scenario and then proceeded to wait three or four hours before starting to play, so that I could replicate (at least in some small manner) the apparent ‘hurry up, deploy, and wait syndrome’ that affected quite a few ancient armies. Mentally reviewing the contents of five or so rulebooks, I can confidently say that I have never encountered any procedures or rules that attempted to recreate this extended interval of natural or increasing nerves and tension. I wonder if those individuals or select groups who identify themselves as the gatekeepers of historical realism in the hobby have drafted rule amendments to depict this pre-battle period? I wonder if there might be a simple way to develop a rule or two that would add this historical context and completely human element to a tabletop contest without over complicating things? For as much as I have thought about it - and I confess it adds up to less than 20 minutes - it occurs to me that both sides might roll 3d6 and then compare the totals. If one side has a better score by 1 to 6 points, then that side receives an automatic re-roll or a positive modifier to be employed in any situation they choose. This bonus or reward could, perhaps, reflect a lesser amount of nerves and tension. A score of 7 to 12 would result in two re-rolls or situations in which a positive modifier may be used. Differences of 13 points of more between the opposing rolls of 3d6 would earn the winning side a fairly significant advantage of three re-rolls and or positive modifiers to use in situations that, initially, were not satisfactory. This draft procedure could generously be called ‘brain storming,’ aimed specifically at recreating that pre-battle period of nerves and tension. It occurs to me that other sets of rules may have addressed this, to some extent, through scouting or something similar, but again, I am not aware of any particular set of rules for ancient wargaming that covers this natural human emotional response when lined up for battle with thousands of men to your left and right, facing thousands of enemy approximately 400-600 meters away, waiting on orders to bring your day and life to a horribly violent as well as terribly painful end. 


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It appears that one could trace the genealogy of the demoralization rules provided on pages 5-6 of GRAND TRIUMPH! [Rough Draft - Version 0.2, October 2017] back to page 25 of the De Bellis Multitudinis rules written by Phil Barker and Richard Bodley Scott [Version 1.1, June 1994]. To be certain, I have more experience with the former set than with the latter, and this ‘introduction’ or transition to another section of this unplanned and no-outline-prepared-and-revised post should not be perceived as an attack, dig, or slight. I confess that I am curious though, about the origin of the ‘third’ and ‘50 percent’ rules. Were these increments decided upon because of ample historical evidence, or are they simply game mechanisms, designed for simplicity and playability? 

I wonder if there might be some way, without getting too complicated (understanding that this is a subjective assessment) of combining existing historical information with the game procedures under present examination. Phrased another way, why would a command, division, or group of veteran troops become demoralized after suffering the same number of casualties, losses, degradation points, or whatever it might be called, as a command, division, or group of levy or militia troops? Stipulating to a degree of bias, it seems to me that the veterans should perform better and be able to fight harder and longer than a collection of militia units led by inexperienced officers. 


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In a previous draft of this post (it was more like 45 minutes of jittery typing after consuming too much dark chocolate), I took a sudden interest in how various rulebooks handled victory and defeat on the tabletop. Very broadly speaking, and acknowledging that my very informal survey looked at six - maybe - sets of rules, it seemed that the general rule or accepted form was that a side or an army has lost the tabletop battle once it has lost 50 percent of its original strength. Again, I pondered the historical accuracy of this presumably general rule, and I considered the simplicity of it with regard to game design and play. I contemplated, briefly, undertaking a comparative study of the losses suffered by each side in the 15 historical engagements listed earlier. While not a sufficient sample size, this ‘study’ would give me some data with which to work or at least formulate new and better questions. The aforementioned sugar high led me to pull Professor Sabin’s excellent text, LOST BATTLES - Reconstructing the Great Clashes of the Ancient World, off a lower book shelf. (Neither the cover nor any of the pages were stained with chocolate fingerprints, and the valued reference book was carefully set aside for the next day when I would be in a clearer frame of mind.) Anyway, at the top of page 44, the accomplished academic reminds the reader of the fairly long list of battles and losses contained on page 12, explaining: “. . . these figures are usually highly asymmetric and include losses inflicted during the subsequent pursuit as well as during the fighting itself.” Having more questions than answers, I wondered if it might be possible to develop a table or something similar that showed the accepted or verifiable battle and post-battle losses suffered by each side for those 15 historical engagements that I keep referring to. This line (more like a squiggle) of thinking led me to wonder if there was a way to reflect or reproduce this on a wargaming tabletop, and what its merits and or drawbacks might be. Again, for as much as I have thought about this procedure or procedures, it occurs to me that it would be based more on morale than physical condition, though these two characteristics would not be completely divorced. 

I wondered how such interactions might be governed and resolved on a tabletop. This ‘morale-heavy’ or ‘morale-oriented’ process seemed to fly in the face of traditional wargaming, where the understood objective is, to adapt the transcribed sentence that started this post: to defeat the opposing player-general’s miniature army through a combination of tactical acumen, rules knowledge, and better-than-average luck with the dice or cards employed to resolve combat and other situations. 


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To avoid any possible confusion or opportunity for retribution, I would like to clearly state that I make no claim with regard to being the first to plant a flag on this figurative mountain. That would be beyond foolish and perhaps remind readers of the actions and or mind set of a certain current political figure. That hint of political commentary aside, demoralization (or demoralisation) of a command or group and the eventual collapse of the larger army are not wholly original subjects of discussion by ancient and medieval wargamers. In early April of 2024, Anthony Clipsom (aka Erpingham) started this thread on the ‘Rules Systems Discussions’ sub-forum on The Society of Ancients Forum: “Can you tell me please, who won?” Although his post was inspired by the report of a late fifteenth century historical refight (Fornovo - as recreated by the award-winning, indefatigable, and statistics wizard Jon Freitag) and the briefly attended conversation seemed more battle and medieval-centric, I found the gentleman’s ‘set questions’ at the end of his opening comment relatable, interesting, and worthy of a second or even third consideration. The long-time, respected, and prolific member of The Society asked:


Are we too gamey in our approach to winning and losing? Should we try to make

our battles revolve around something more substantial than proxies? Or, in fact, 

are our gamey approaches a distillation of reality to simple terms - that battles 

were won by knocking down the enemies will to combat to such a point where 

their endurance gave way and they quit the field en masse? 


Even though it has been just a little over a year since the gentleman raised these questions (concerns?), I think it is well worth revisiting and reconsidering them. 


In December of that year and within the electronic marble columns of that same sub-forum, another long-standing member of The Society (and former editor of its long-running publication, whose tireless work was greatly appreciated) opened the following discussion: “How do you get to the end point of a wargame?” This veteran gentleman (aka Imperial Dave), who has an extensive library of rulebooks, provided forum frequenters with a short list of ‘mechanisms’ cataloged from said sets. These were: a time limit; a break point; objectives fulfilled; accumulation of points, and the common (but possessing an interesting history - this is my parenthetical addition) handshake. 


To be certain, there is much food for thought here. Speaking with the experience of 30-plus years as a non-traditional historical wargamer, there is something to be said for the simple or simpler approach. There is no room for disagreement if your army breakpoint is determined to be six units, and through the application of greater tactical skill along with a bit of luck, your opponent has managed to destroy or rout those six units, well then, you have lost the game or battle. The extent to which this tabletop contest presented an accurate historical drama, picture, or reconstruction is, obviously, a matter of opinion. In my brief as well as hurried ‘research’ while typing and editing - ahem - this post (more or less ‘on the fly’), I could not find the desired “smoking gun” evidence or quote. However, it does seem correct to argue or comment that in ancient battles, the losing side lost more men and material after they had been broken and were being pursued by the victorious side, then they lost during the actual engagement. Following in the giant footsteps of Anthony, Dave, and many others, I am left to wonder how we might best depict this kind of interaction on a tabletop? I also wonder if we should, as too much historical realism might impact the enjoyment of the wargame. I confess that I am a bit worried too, as I fear that Professor Philip Sabin might have sufficiently addressed this challenging subject matter by stressing morale and cohesion in the rules he included in the previously mentioned text, LOST BATTLES.


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On cursory review of this rushed-into-production post, it appears fairly evident why I should stay within my delineated comfort zone of writing battle reports, non-traditional and simplistic though they may be.   

Saturday, July 5, 2025

A Heaping Helping 

of Horse Bow





Staying inside my comfort zone of solo wargaming within the extensive ancient and or medieval periods of military history (3,000 BC/BCE to 1500 AD/CE), but opting to step outside of this zone with regard to the choice and then preparation of armies, I decided, after a series of discouraging developments in my so-called laboratory, to set up a large as well as fictional scenario wherein Suren Indo-Parthians would do battle with Kushans. Without further preamble, I present for the reader’s consideration several diagrams of how this large, and it must be stated, fictional contest was set up and played. Following the simple visuals (I suppose that one could generously call them ‘slides’), I present a section containing a variety of assessments, remarks and other thoughts. 


Thanks in advance for taking the time to visit this blog, and for reading this particular entry. It is appreciated. 

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Commentary

As I have often found the drafting of the final sections of wargame reports and reports in general to be challenging if not frustrating, I thought I would ‘punt’ or start this difficult and laborious process by describing an event that occurred during one of the turns of the recently completed solo wargame. 


The Kushans were the active side, and in one sector of the field they were interested in further depleting the number of Indo-Parthian units on the tabletop. Using a decent command die, they managed to engage a unit of demoralized Indo-Parthian Horse Bow with a unit of Light Foot. These infantry were assisted by a troop of Elephants, who were arranged on the right flank of the Light Foot, thus supporting the assault. As if that were not enough, the Kushan local commander managed to move a unit of Horse Bow onto the flank of the engaged enemy stand. Now then, typically, Horse Bow bases have a combat factor of+3 versus enemy Foot. However, this unit of Horse Bow was demoralized, and it was also flanked as well as bothered by some supporting Elephants. By my figuring, the Horse Bow combat factor was zero. The Kushan Light Foot had a factor of +2 versus enemy Mounted. A kill seemed practically guaranteed, as the flanking unit would prevent the Indo-Parthian horse archers from making their escape. The dice gods or just plain luck thought differently, however. The Kushan unit rolled a 1 for a total of 3. The demoralized and flanked Indo-Parthians rolled a 6. The Kushan Light Foot was broken and removed. The flanking unit of Horse Bow was forced to recoil 1 MU per the new rules amendment list, and the demoralized but victorious Horse Bow was required to advance (i.e., pursue) 1 MU, as they had doubled the score of their opponent. To be certain, an unlikely development, but one that was mathematically possible with these rules. (It might be interesting to try and model this situation with other sets of rules and see what happens.) To be sure, this kind of reversal of fortune did not happen with any great frequency during the recently completed battle, but when similar events did take place, it did give me pause for thought in addition to brief moments of enjoyment that would probably be increased by a factor of four or more in friendly or competition games. 


Anyway, still struggling to develop the content for this final section, I thought I might try to incorporate the writings of two eminent members of The Society of Ancients. First, I should like to evaluate this latest effort by using the criteria listed by Simon Watson in “Tactica II: A Personal Perspective,” which appeared in Slingshot 329 (March/April 2020). I apologize in advance if I misinterpret or misunderstand any part of the respected gentleman’s writing. In his engaging article, Simon discussed the criteria by which he judged a set of ancient wargaming rules. The first ‘hoop’ or benchmark was playability. Simon was interested in a “fun game, sub-3 hours, with record keeping and other rule reference kept to a minimum.” Understanding that “fun” is a completely subjective term, I believe I can say that my solo contest wherein Tactica II was not used, provided for a fun game. If anything, it allowed me a chance to be distracted, to escape for a total of a little over 4 hours over the course of three consecutive days. The time required for my fictional battle can be attributed to the size of the armies that were involved and to the fact that I was playing solo. Essentially, this doubles the workload for any project. Record keeping and other admin matters might also be fairly described as subjective qualities. In my case, I did not have to refer to the QRS or the new rule amendments all that often. Given the freedom of choice with respect to choosing which melees to resolve, I did make use of colored chips to mark completed melees. I also had command tags on the tabletop, which identified the various formations (there were 17 in total) and informed or reminded me of when each would be considered demoralized. In my opinion, these playing aids and markers were not major detractors to the experience. Others may well disagree, as is their right. 


The second ‘hoop’ to jump through was “historical ‘feel’.” Again, there is a healthy level of subjectivity here with regard to understanding how ancient battles were fought. Simon and I might very well reach similar conclusions if we studied a section of narrative written by Polybius or Tacitus or another well known historian. We might also agree, generally, on the analysis done by a modern historian, such as Adrian Goldsworthy or Victor Davis Hanson. The interpretation of these writings and analyses to our respective tabletops is where we might differ. In some subject areas it might be by just a little; on other topics, it might be by quite a distance. Thinking about the recently completed wargame, I think it is hard to say - definitively - if the scenario was a representation of actual ancient warfare. To take one point as an example: I know that in Tactica II, horse archers are able to shoot arrows at enemy formations 15 inches away. There is a specific phase within the turn for this, and there are specific rules for determining how many arrows are loosed and how many might land on target. In stark contrast, horse archers in TRIUMPH! have a combat factor against enemy Foot and Mounted units. There is no separate sub-phase of a turn wherein these mounted warriors can ‘knock, extend, let fly,’ and repeat. At the risk of adding to the word count of this section as well as to the post, permit me to transcribe the entry for Horse Bow from the rules so that those unfamiliar with how this troop type is depicted can learn:


> Horse Bow [open order; 4 points]

Cavalry fighting with bows from horseback, usually with large ammunition 

supplies. Effective against other horse; less effective against close order foot but 

at little risk of them because of their ability to engage from beyond thrown-

weapon range. Examples are Skythians, Huns, Magyars, most Mongols, and 

many more. 


A mental review of other rules (Armati, Hail Caesar, IMPETVS, L’Art de la Guerre, and To The Strongest!) suggests that units of horse archers are usually given the ability to ‘reach out and touch some enemy’ from a distance. 


Simon’s third criteria is decision making. Here, the gentleman asks for or wants to be able to make “tactical decisions as well as develop general battle plans.” In essence, he wants to assume the role of army commander as opposed to sub-general, legate, chieftain, prince, or nameless officer in charge of this phalanx, etc. The TRIUMPH! rules certainly provide plenty of opportunity for decision making, as each command is led by a ‘general’ who gets to roll a d6 and then issue that many orders per turn. Elephants and other troop types are harder to manage, so they require 2 pips to move each turn. (This caused a few problems in the recently completed contest.) I suppose there was a degree of realism obtained or imagined during the later stages of the contest, as when a command became spread out due to various combats and their results, a roll of 2 on the command die would mean that the local commander would have to prioritize what needed to be done first or the ‘fastest with the mostest.’ This decision making would be under the larger umbrella of the overall army commander. Admittedly, there was not all that much of a formalized or carefully thought out plan (by either side) in this recent solo contest. My primary goals were to set up another largish battle, conduct more testing of the recently released rule amendments, and fight with two armies that I did not have very much experience with using on my tabletop. While I have commanded elephants, cataphracts, and horse archers before, it is rather a different matter when one  is leading armies containing quite a few of these types against an army of similar composition. 


With regard to Simon’s fourth and fifth criteria - aesthetics and character - I suppose the sensible thing to do is plead nolo contendere, and move on from there. Then again, it might prove interesting, at least in a comparison/contrast kind of way, to research and then estimate how much it would cost to produce 417 points of Indo-Parthians in 15mm scale and then in 25/28mm scale. As a third option, I wonder what the price tag would be for the same number of Indo-Parthians using WoFun models. (See https://wofungames.com/.) 


The second venerable Society member from whom I will draw upon in reviewing the relative strengths and weaknesses of my latest ‘case’ is an erudite gentleman by the name of Anthony Clipsom. By happy accident, I happened across (again) his thought-provoking “Game Mechanics and Realism” piece which was published in Slingshot 337 (July/August 2021). At the end of this engaging and admittedly personal article, Anthony offers a 4-point “fuzzy subjective rubric.” (Sidebar: Given that this ‘grading scale’ is several years old as of this typing, it might be interesting to see if there has been any change made to it and what the reason or reasons were.) If I understand the basics of this much discussed general topic correctly, then a scenario or tabletop battle should be: 1) “moderately gamey - having good mechanics that are connected”; 2) “fairly realistic - producing plausible outcomes and historically reconcilable narratives”; 3) “very playable - requiring little maintenance and a reasonable time frame to reach a conclusion,” and 4) “pretty permissive - meaning that its modifiable and flexible.” 


Taking each of these in order and striving to be brief, it appears that my large TRIUMPH! scenario ticked all the boxes. Granted the force by which the pencil or marker was used in ticking these boxes might vary, but even so. For as much as my opinion is relevant, the mechanics in these rules are decent and are connected. However, I maintain that it is odd to use Horse Bow units without having to resolve arrow volleys, no matter how disjointed these flights of projectiles might be. On ‘Count 2,’ it seems arguably realistic that a rather large contest involving elephants, cataphracts, and horse archers is going to see lots of ‘to-ing and fro-ing’ as well as lots of trampling and scampering, etc. Interestingly or ironically, in the recently played solo wargame, the battle did not go to the ‘bigger battalions’ - which is what one might think, but went to the army that rolled better dice on the day or days that turns were completed. The example reported at the start of this final section was not very plausible, but it was possible. It just remains how to blend this exception into the story of the battle. Had there been four or five player-generals participating, it seems safe to suggest that there would have been four or five stories as to what transpired in that particular area of the tabletop. I think I have pretty much covered the third point with my ‘analysis’ of Simon’s piece and through the distribution of accounts of the engagement. If the scenario was not playable, then there would not be a report. Instead, there might be a ‘paper’ examining the reasons why it was found to be so. With regard to the last point raised by Anthony, the rules have been officially amended by those with the power to do so. As to other modifications, well, it appears that these same individuals can take on the helmeted, masked, and sometime baton-wielding appearance of gatekeepers. During the recently staged contest, I found myself considering additional house rules and or variations on some themes. A short, work-in-progress list would include the following: a) varying the ability of commanders of generals [both in terms of melee modifier and command radius]; b) varying the demoralization point of commands [25 percent, 35 percent, 40 percent, etc.]; c) varying the points value of commands [the rules permit a 24-point command or group; what would happen if a 60-point command was deployed?], and d) further experimenting with what else happens when a command of group becomes demoralized. This last tinkering would, I think, have to be supported by at least six historical examples. 


In summation, it was a decent solo wargame. It provided several hours of distraction, as well as more food for thought. Is it foolish to hope that this post provides 20 minutes or so of distraction to a reader, as well as some inspiration for a related project? In fact, having mentally listed a handful of different rules during the drafting of this section, I cannot help but consider trying a similar contest using a few of those rules. It might be interesting to compare and contrast how they did when these particular armies faced off against each other. Then again, it might prove as interesting to stay with the same rules, but test out the ideas for some ‘house amendments.’ However, knowing my attention span when it comes to solo wargaming, I would not be at all surprised to find that my next interest or project has nothing at all to do with elephants, cataphracts, or horse archers.



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Orders of Battle (for those who may be interested)

 

Suren Indo-Parthians

Command A - Scythian allies

10 x Horse Bow, 02 x Knights (1 being the sub-general or command stand of formation)


Command B - 

01 x Cataphracts (sub-general or command stand of formation), 02 x Elephants, 02 x Horde, 02 x Skirmishers, 02 x Rabble, 02 x Light Spear, 02 x Bow Levy


Command C - 

11 x Horse Bow, 01 x Cataphracts (sub-general or command stand of formation)


Command D - 

11 x Horse Bow, 01 x Cataphracts (sub-general or command stand of formation)


Command E - 

03 x Javelin Cavalry, 03 x Cataphracts (1 being the sub-general or command stand of formation), 03 x Horse Bow, 03 x Elephants


Command F - 

12 x Cataphracts (1 being the Army General as well as command stand of formation)


Command G - 

01 x Cataphracts (sub-general or command stand of formation), 03 x Elephants, 03 x Horde, 03 x Skirmishers, 02 x Rabble, 02 x Light Spear, 02 x Bow Levy


Command H -

11 x Horse Bow, 01 x Cataphracts (sub-general or command stand of formation)


Command I - 

11 x Horse Bow, 01 x Cataphracts (sub-general or command stand of formation)



Kushans

Command 1 - 

01 x Horse Bow, 05 x Elephants (1 being the sub-general or command stand of formation), 06 x Light Foot


Command 2 - 

11 x Horse Bow, 01 x Cataphracts (sub-general or command stand of formation)


Command 3 - 

11 x Horse Bow, 01 x Cataphracts (sub-general or command stand of formation)


Command 4 - 

05 x Horse Bow, 07 x Elephants (1 being the Army General and command stand of formation)


Command 5 - The Subject Indians contingent

06 x Heavy Foot, 06 x Bow Levy, 03 x Javelin Cavalry, 01 x Cataphracts (sub-general or command stand of formation)


Command 6 - 

12 x Cataphracts (1 being the sub-general or command stand of formation)


Command 7 - 

11 x Horse Bow, 01 x Cataphracts (sub-general or command stand of formation)


Command 8 - 

11 x Horse Bow, 01 x Cataphracts (sub-general or command stand of formation)

Friday, June 20, 2025

In the Shadows 

of Chalons





Three options were under consideration. The first solo scenario would be based on the historical battle of Quatre Bras. This adaptation was tentatively titled ‘The Quarrel for Quattro Strade,’ as over the years, I have developed a soft spot for alliteration in titles, and would feature representative forces drawn from the Early Renaissance (1) pages of the ADVANCED ARMATI rulebook. In general, three Italian City State armies, supported by two Swiss (15th century) armies, would meet four Burgundian armies who were, as might be imagined - given my preference for ‘bigger battles,’ reinforced by two different Italian City State armies. A measure of redemption was the underlying goal of this scenario, as a previous Italian Wars experiment or interlude had proved somewhat disappointing. The second scenario that would also be played by myself/against myself, advanced the calendar to the Later Renaissance (2) section and lists of this same rulebook. For this fictional contest, French Huguenots would meet Spanish (16th century) forces in a simpler yet still rather sizeable engagement. Drawing some inspiration from David Kay (as well as being more than a little envious of his talents), I thought I might try something similar to the recent as well as very large if also anachronistic contest he presented to Society of Ancients members. This battle saw quite the collection of 6mm Roman legionaries and auxiliary formations tangle with an alliance of Greek city-state hoplites supported by cavalry and light troops. While strong cases could be presented for each of these projects, I imagine it will come as no great surprise to the handful of readers when they are informed that an entirely different option was conceived and then acted upon. As the title of this post suggests, this unlisted option, this out-of-nowhere - something like a ‘dark horse’ of a project, would have something to do with the historical battle of Chalons. To be clear, this would not be a refight or a carefully supported interpretation of that 451 AD/CE contest. (For inspiration and reference, I reviewed the engaging and excellent content of the July-August 2013 issue of Slingshot, wherein numerous reports of Battle Day 2013 were published.) Instead, this scenario would afford me the opportunity to see if I could manage a really big battle using the TRIUMPH! or GRAND TRIUMPH! rules. This improvised project would also give me a chance to try out the recent rule revisions. (These were not extensive, but limited in scope as well as carefully considered and explained.) Finally, this design-as-I-went scenario would provide me a testing ground for some ‘house rules’ regarding demoralization.  


Preparations

Instead of following the procedures for determining what the tabletop would look like, I decided to keep things fairly simple. The terrain for this fictional field of battle would be essentially flat and featureless. However, there would be a single gentle hill (two-tiers in height) located in the approximate center of the table. In addition, there would be three areas categorized as elevated ground or rises. These were not features in the strict sense. They were simply places on my fictional battlefield where the ground was not completely flat. These rises would not confer any melee advantage(s) or interfere with movement of troops; they were fabricated and positioned in order to break up an otherwise arguably boring and visually unappealing model of what a vast plain might look like in what is now western Europe during the latter half of the fifth century.


Interested in seeing how large of a battle I could effectively manage, I built two alliances. Each of these tentative coalitions would contain four armies or contingents. On the Huns’ side of the tabletop, there were: Gepids, Ostrogoths, Alemanni, and of course, a good number of those fearsome horse archers. On the Patrician Roman side of the tabletop there were: Burgundi, Visigoths, Early Franks, and a fairly large contingent of Romans or troop types associated with and or in the employ of what remained of the once great empire. Typically, a friendly game of TRIUMPH! sees two 48-point armies engaging in battle. In a GRAND TRIUMPH! scenario, observers will see two 144-point armies fight for possession of the determined battlefield. For this solo wargame, I would prepare Hun and Roman armies adding up to approximately 144 points. These formations would be supported by three ‘allied’ armies containing around 96 points each. Simple addition produced 432 points as an estimated total strength for each alliance. It seems safe to remark that this is an unusual if not bordering on ridiculous point total for a GRAND TRIUMPH! scenario.  


This would be my first contest wherein I employed the handful of amendments made to Version 1.1 of the TRIUMPH! rules. Studying the ‘rules sticker’ and discussion notes, it appeared that only the bullet points concerning Bow Levy slightly improved movement rate, Rabble being able to pass through, and the Pursuit and Fall-Back modification would be applicable to this possibly too large and again, fictional contest.  

Finding myself unhappy with or unsure of the original Demoralization rules, I thought I might tinker with these and see what happened. To a large degree, they were left as written. However, the following bullet points were drafted for testing in this ‘big laboratory’:


> units in demoralized groups that are outside of 8 MU (adjusted command radius) or not given orders are “frozen in place.” They will not fall back and then rout. They will stay in their current position until and if given orders.  


> commands that lose half of their original strength are considered broken and will immediately flee the field (i.e., be removed from the table) regardless of their circumstances or situation. 


> victorious commands or groups responsible for the breaking of an enemy command must roll a d6 to determine how they react

result of 1-2 / 1 turn immobile (rest and reorganize)

result of 3-4 / 2 turns immobile (rest and reorganize)

result of 5-6 / 3 turns immobile (rest and reorganize)


How It Played

As has apparently become my practice, the following series of maps or simple diagrams should provide sufficient and perhaps even satisfactory narrative with regard to how the battle began, progressed, and concluded or was determined to have run its course. 











Commentary & Critique

On review, it appears that my intention with this project was two-fold. First, I wanted to see if I could manage an unusually large battle using the selected rules. Second, I wanted to test the recently released official amendments as well as try out a few of my own. 


Broadly speaking, I think that I was able to manage a rather large battle. If I were to grade the effort however, and not referring to any draft or established rubric, I think I would give myself a B-minus or an 81, maybe an 82 on a 100-point scale. (Of course, readers of this post may disagree. That is their prerogative.) As far as I could tell, the official amendments seemed to work very well. Having had some experience with the turtle-like pace of the Bow Levy units in previous scenarios, the increase in movement rate to 3 MU versus 2 MU did add up over the course of several turns. Then again, the Roman Artillery stands did cost more command pips as well as slow down the advance of the Roman infantry lines. Shifting to an assessment of my rough draft ‘house rules’ regarding demoralization, well, I think this tinkering worked well enough. However, there is always room for improvement, is there not? At the risk of extending this final section, my concern or “issue” with demoralization is that it seems to allow commands that have ‘had the stuffing knocked out of them’ to hang around until such a point as there are just a few dozen or hundred men left. While morale rules in a sense, in the recently completed scenario, the Roman contingent appeared to be completely unaffected by the sudden appearance of a large hole to its right. Granted, the Gepids were not able to exploit this advantage and the Huns were too far away, but on an actual ancient battlefield, I think this would be a significant development. 


Changing gears, I fully admit that this latest solo project would not qualify as a pretty wargame. That was not its intention. To merit that adjective and subjective opinion, I think that well-painted and based 15mm or 25mm figures would be required. Ideally, unit bases would have had a universal frontage of either 50mm or 60mm. This increase in dimension would, of course, made a much larger tabletop necessary. And this more expansive tabletop would have needed a few pieces at least, of well-modeled terrain features to add to the level of prettiness. Along this same line of consideration, the recently completed scenario was not a social event. It is not too difficult to imagine the 15mm or 25mm figures and formations being ‘commanded’ by eight player-generals, who are, in turn, supported by an experienced umpire and his knowledgeable assistant. Does a pretty as opposed to a functional wargame, and one that is more social with regard to participating individuals, make for a better wargame or experience? Here again, opinions will vary. More context is needed to provide a better answer. (There is that word again.) Off the top of my gray-haired head, I can think of two instances where this might not be the case. First, imagine that you have been designated as a commander of a flank or sector and then, through no fault of your own, you do not have or wind up not having a whole heck of a lot to do during the scenario except watch the other players move their traditional units and engage in battle on some pretty good-looking terrain. Two, you are again assigned to a command or commands, and then, by sheer chance, find yourself situated next to a fellow player-general who is rather overweight and who could also use a reminder tutorial on the basics of good personal hygiene and or manners. 


Shifting from hypotheticals and the subjective to something more measurable, I should like to use this paragraph to examine the losses suffered by each side during the engagement. As described in the captions, the Roman alliance witnessed the collapse and rout of four of its original nine commands. Half of the Visigoth contingent was forced off the field, and one of the Roman commands was eliminated from the battle. The entire Burgundi contingent was broken after a hard fight with the Gepids. In terms of points, these losses added up to 179, which represented 41 percent of the starting Roman strength. In addition to these casualties, there were nine units worth 27 points lost by the Franks; 2 units worth 8 points lost by the Romans, and 2 units lost by the Visigoths worth 8 points. This damage added 43 points to the Roman roster, bringing their total to 222 points. If my math is correct, this represented 51 percent of the Roman original numbers, so, technically, it appears that the Romans were defeated. Turning to the other alliance or coalition, the Huns experienced the complete loss of one command, which was equal to 48 points. No other commands/groups were routed, but a few were rather beaten up in the engagement. Another ‘division’ of Hun Horse Bow lot five stands or 20 points. The Gepid contingent (demoralized), had suffered the loss of six units of Bow Levy, three units of Knights, and five units of Warriors. These casualties added up to 39 points. The Ostrogoths lost four Knight stands and a Skirmisher stand for a total of 19 points. (Their command of Knights was demoralized.) The Alemanni suffered 38 points of losses in the form of seven units of Bow Levy, three units of Light Foot, and five units of Warriors. To reiterate, one of the Alemanni commands was demoralized. If my additional math is correct, then the Hun alliance suffered 164 points of combined losses. This amounts or amounted to around 35 percent of their original strength. Based on this figuring, it appears that I should amend my judgment of a draw to a minor and somewhat costly Hun victory. 


In the report provided by Adam Hayes in the July/August 2013 issue of Slingshot [see, if you are able to, ‘Chalons 451 AD - With Piquet Archon 2: It’s all in the Planning (?)’], the esteemed gentleman explained: “All too often, every available unit in both armies meets up for a huge barney in the centre of the map. This can be ungainly and tedious to fight on the tabletop.” On the one hand, I could not help but be reminded of this as I played 11 turns of my latest solo and rather or purposefully large wargame. In terms of points, I believe that this contest qualifies as a “huge barney,” and may be, at least unofficially (who keeps track of these categories anyway?), one of the largest TRIUMPH! wargames ever staged on a tabletop. Admittedly, the functional and simple units could be described as “fiddly,” and so, proved challenging to handle at times. But as this was a solo project, I did not have to worry about disappointing other player-generals or upsetting the sense and sensibilities of the participants. Admittedly, there were instances of “tedium,” as resolving a large number of melees can become repetitive and again, require some delicate handling with units that are objectively small, flimsy, and lacking in aesthetic appeal. Then again, I think one could remark or perhaps even argue that these situations can be found in and or experienced when playing in sizable traditional wargames. 


Anyway, in brief review, I think the terrain was sufficient and the opposing armies were satisfactory. As a learning module, this fictional battle proved itself valuable. For future ‘mega-games’ with these rules, I think a unit frontage of 40mm should be the smallest employed. Then again, I might experiment with methods involving 50mm units, which would allow for missile and movement ranges to be measured in inches instead of some other odd increment. I could also see if staging three or four separate but integrated battles would allow for a subjectively better wargaming experience. 


Over the past couple of years, I estimate that I have completed between 20 and 30 TRIUMPH! wargames. The majority of these were completed in a ‘World Cup’ format of 15 contests played in 2023. To be certain, I make no claim to be expert with these rules. However, I think that I do have a respectable level of experience. This has been gained through solo play, submitting questions to the WGC Forum, watching the various You Tube videos, and being at table side (as an observer only) when Rod C. presented and umpired a historical battle at a Little Wars Convention. In the recently completed contest, I found very few instances where I had to stop and check the rules or consult some exchange that had been copied and pasted into a reference page from the WGC Forum. There were more instances of being surprised when Bow Levy were able to repulse multiple attacks or even, on some occasions, score a local victory when doubling a better and more expensive enemy unit. Even though I had prepared a ‘cheat sheet,’ and was especially curious or eager to see how my Roman infantry with bow support might fare in the struggle, these legionary and auxiliary formations never got the chance. In fact, it struck me as rather odd that units armed with integrated archers were restricted in their target selection. The numerous units of Huns were also restricted, at least in my mind or perhaps it is simply bias formed from using other rule sets and reading other wargame reports, as these could not loose arrow volleys at their enemies. So, I found myself struggling to figure out the best way to fight with Horse Bow against Knights. Instead of sweeping away the Visigoths, either by volume of archery or by ‘feigned flight’ tactics, my figurative Huns were hard pressed to make any progress against the Visigoths. As reported in the map captions, they were eventually able to force the infantry off the field, but a fairly steep price was paid.