CHAERONEA: 

REVISITED & REVISED

Frustrated by numerous attempts to draft a coherent, engaging, and interesting narrative about a recently completed solo wargame wherein a large army led by Hannibal Barca faced off against an equally large army commanded by Pyrrhus of Epirus, I decided to take a day or two off and then return “once more unto the breach,” if the appreciated reader will permit me to use a phrase from Shakespeare’s Henry V. [1] Instead of returning to the disconcertingly vexing analysis and exploration of that—appealing as it was—particular counterfactual, I embarked upon another. 

In August, I read James Romm’s excellent new book, THE SACRED BAND - Three Hundred Theban Lovers Fighting to Save Greek Freedom. (For those readers who may be curious about the text, please see https://www.simonandschuster.com/books/The-Sacred-Band/James-Romm/9781501198014.) Professor Romm notes that while the Sacred Band fought on the left of the line of battle at Leuctra (371 BC) and at Mantinea (the second one, fought in 362 BC), it was deployed on the right of the line at Chaeronea (338 BC). The elite corps of 300 men, made up of 150 pairs of lovers, was destroyed by the Macedonian father and son team of Philip and Alexander. In his brief summary of Chaeronea, Professor Romm wonders what might have happened if the Thebans and their well known Sacred Band had been stationed on the left of the Allied Greek line. Needing no more inspiration than this intriguing suggestion, I secured my well-worn copy of Warfare in the Classical World and turned to pages 68 and 69, where I found the familiar as well as wargamer-friendly diagrams, orders of battle, and chronological summary of the historical engagement. [2]

Rules and Orders of Battle

Curious to see how or even if the recently acquired TRIUMPH! rules could handle this historical battle, I opened up the PDF and started refreshing my memory and reviewing key aspects of the rules. [3] I also studied the “rough draft” version of GRAND TRIUMPH!, as there appeared to be approximatley 65,000 men on this ancient battlefield. 

Looking over the Greek Allies order of battle, it appeared that I could establish or use an approximate unit scale of 1:1000. This would give me, according to the information provided in Warfare, 10 units of Athenians, 8 units of various allied city-state contingents, and 12 units of Thebans. There would be 5 additional units, divided into 3 of peltasts and 2 of psiloi. Studying the Later Hoplite Athens as well as Later Hoplite Theban/Boiotian [sic] army lists found on MeshWesh (please see http://meshwesh.wgcwar.com/home), I figured that 10 units of Athenian hoplites (heavy foot) along with 2 units of peltasts (light foot) and 1 of psiloi (rabble) would add up to 38 points, which is exactly 10 points shy of the typical size of a regular army for a basic friendly or competitive game of TRIUMPH! The allied contingents would add up to 24 points of heavy foot, while the Theban contingent would number 42 points worth of elite foot (the Sacred Band), heavy foot, light foot, and rabble. Added together, the Greek Alliance would have 104 points on the table. 

Employing a similar yet very approximate unit scale for the Macedonian army, I prepared 3 units of Hypaspists (raiders), 24 units of phalanx (pikes), 2 units of peltasts (light foot), 1 unit of slingers (skirmishers) and 2 units of psiloi (rabble). Turning to the cavalry arm of the invading army, technically, I should have stayed with the same approximate unit scale. However, after thinking it over for a bit, I decided to build 4 units of Companions (knights) and 1 unit of light horse (javelin cavalry).  Adding the value of these various units together, I arrived at a sum of 117 points. Given that Philip and Alexander were on the field, I figured that I would divide the Macedonian army in half, roughly speaking. The father would command on the right while his son would take the left. They would share responsibilities in the center. 

Looking over the QRS, I noted that the Greek hoplites would have a +4 factor in close combat against enemy foot. Conversely, the “blocks” of Macedonian pikemen would only have a factor of +3 against the hoplites. This advantage did not feel right, at least to me. One solution was providing the pikemen with rear support. This would increase their combat factor to +5. However, the addition of 24 more pike units or stands would increase the value of the Macedonian army by 72 points. Furthermore, if the approximate unit scale was retained, then there would be 24,000 men added to the army of Philip, giving him a substantial advantage. Another solution was to give the pike units the rear support bonus without fabricating the physical second unit required for the rear support bonus. This would eliminate the need to add more points and more men to the army, but it would require me to imagine that the stands of Macedonian pikemen were in fact deployed in depth (something like the option employed in Armati) as opposed to being on equal frontage with the hoplite phalanxes of the Greek Alliance. 

Terrain and Deployments

It occurs to me that the nature of the ground at Chaeronea did not have a significant impact on the course of the battle. However, the Acropolis and the marshy patches along the bank of the River Cephissus did serve as “bookends” or boundaries for the Greek Alliance. Taking a minimalist approach as opposed to an expert modeler of terrain approach, I crafted a very rudimentary Acropolis and placed it on top of some elevated ground. A similar process was used to depict the patches of marsh along the river. The rest of my tabletop was designated as flat and open terrain. 

For this abstract-compared-to-other-models reimagining of Chaeronea, the Athenians and Thebans switched places. The Sacred Band would hold the far left of the Allied line; it would be nearest to the Acropolis, but drawn up on level ground. To the right of the Theban formation would be the various Allied contingents. The Athenians would be on the right, with their light troops closest to the marshy ground. Not very far away, the Macedonians were arranged for the coming battle. (In fact, Philip’s forward elements were just 10 MUs or 20 centimeters from the enemy line.) Due to command and control concerns, I did not deploy the pike phalanx in what I will call “complete echelon.” That is to explain, each unit of the phalanx was not positioned as a single step on a 24-step staircase, descending toward to the Macedonian left. After tinkering with the command radius or reach of both Philip and Alexander however, I was able to arrange the Macedonian army in a shallow “staircase formation.” [4] The Hypaspists and light troops were on the extreme right of the line. Then, there were four “steps” of pikemen, each “step” of the phalanx containing 6 units. The rest of the light troops and the single unit of light cavalry was posted to the far left, very close to the river and marshy ground. Alexander, along with the four units of heavy cavalry were positioned between the last block of pikemen and the light troops guarding the Macedonian left. 

This photo taken from high above the Macedonian right. A portion of the “model” hill and Acropolis can be seen. The Theban hoplites are represented by the dark red stands; the Sacred Band is represented by the purple stand, and the light troops are in gray. The Macedonians lead with their Hypaspists, protected on the right by some peltasts and psiloi. Part of the “shallow staircase” formation of the phalanx can be seen. 

How It Played: A Brief Summary

The first couple of turns were one-sided affairs, as the hoplite phalanxes of the Greek Alliance stood like statues awaiting the approach of Philip’s army. Having arranged his troops in a shallow echelon formation, the Hypaspists and light infantry were twice as close as to the Thebans as the troops under Alexander’s control were to the Athenians. [5] The next several turns saw both sides engaged along most of the line as the “steps” of the Macedonian phalanx advanced the final distance and made contact with various sections of the Greek line. King Philip and his son were plagued by poor command rolls, unfortunately. They were also apparently cursed by the dice gods as their combat rolls left much to be desired. Philip’s Hypaspists found themselves rather roughly handled on the right, while Alexander’s light troops were quickly facing complete annihilation on the left. On either flank, the initial charge of the pike phalanx was repulsed or held. A unit of Athenian hoplites managed to get the better of their antagonists and whittled down a pike block to half its original size. It was only in the center where the Macedonians had success. Oddly enough, the dice gods favored them in this sector, and the various allied contingents soon found themselves in very dire straits. First one hoplite unit fell to the wall of pikes, then another, and then another. The general of this varied force was the next to meet his end along with his desperately fighting men. It seemed that in a matter of minutes several large holes had been torn in the Greek line. Demoralized by this sudden shift, the surviving units of the Greek center fell back and then turned tail to retreat off the field. With the collapse of their center, the Greek position was judged untenable, even though father and son had been frustrated by the Thebans and Athenians. In fact, it could be remarked that both had been given a bloody nose by the stubborn hoplites of each city-state. 

Philip’s Hypaspists have engaged the Theban left. They are supported by some peltasts and  are facing some light troops, a unit of Theban hoplites, and the Sacred Band. Philip is with the second pike phalanx on the left of the frame. Poor command dice left him unable to commit his pikemen to the fight (at least for this turn) and so, his elite Hypaspists would be overlapped on their left. 

On the opposite side of the field, Alexander has his hands full against the Athenians. His peltasts, slingers, and light horse have been routed by their Athenian counterparts.The Athenian hoplites have done rather well against the Macedonian pikemen, too. The young commander thought several times about entering the fray, but given his die rolling ability (a case of nerves?) and given the even factors between knights and heavy foot in frontal combat (each rated at +3), he decided not to charge into battle. (The Macedonian unit with the red marker indicates a pike block that has only one stand instead of two.)

To rearrange the common saying: “Like father like son . . .” to “Like son like father . . .” Over on Philip’s flank, his elite troops were having serious difficulties against the Theban hoplites, Sacred Band, and light troops. Adding insult to injury, Philip’s command dice were pretty consistently terrible, thus hampering his efforts to better control the tempo of the battle in this sector.  

Taken over the center of the Greek Alliance position, this photo shows the beginning of the end for this particular contingent. The Macedonian phalanx has ruptured this part of the line in three places, and has pushed back the enemy in at least two more. The dice gods favored the anonymous Macedonian commander in this sector apparently, and frowned on the leader of the allied contingents. In another turn or two, the center would be non-existent. The few surviving hoplite units would be demoralized and routing to the rear. 

Reflection

I believe that I am getting more used to the TRIUMPH! rules. To be certain, I am nowhere near being an expert. I am far from achieving the rank of veteran. I needed to check with the more experience players on the TRIUMPH! Forum about a rules question, and I mistakenly allowed the Allied Greek command to keep fighting for a turn when its remaining units should have been marked as demoralized and its free units (those not in combat or contact) should have been routed as well. This error did not tilt the wargame or experiment one way or the other, however. It simply delayed the inevitable: a Macedonian victory. 

It appears then, based on the limited evidence of this counterfactual (along with the accepted historical record), that the location of the Theban Sacred Band had no impact whatsoever on the outcome of the contest at Chaeronea. Historically, they fought well, but were surrounded and slaughtered. In my fictional engagement, they also fought well. They made the Hypaspists pay dearly and they gave Philip the fits, for lack of a better word. However, they could not prevent the rupture and destruction of the Greek center, which cost the Alliance the battle/wargame. 

I found it interesting, frustrating, and sometimes amusing that both Philip and Alexander were plagued by poor die rolls. Throughout the comparatively short wargame, I kept wondering if I should have tinkered with the command abilities for both personalities. For example, I thought about giving Philip a larger command radius. I thought about adjusting Alexander’s as well. I even toyed with the idea of shortening the reach of the Greek commanders. Given their poor die rolling, I wondered about changing the d6 of Philip and Alexander to a d8 or even a d10. For example, I could easily see Hannibal or Caesar as a d10 commander. Those leaders who were found more toward the incompetent side of the commander rating spectrum might be assigned a d4. Then again, one could also borrow the fairly familiar idea of using 2d6 and taking the better score. 

I confess that it is difficult to divorce myself from a representative figure or unit scale. The accepted strength of the Sacred Band is 300 men. If that is the basic unit scale, then the roughly 12,000 Theban hoplites would be depicted with 40 stands or bases or elements. In my very amateur effort of refighting Chaeronea, each Theban stand or unit was approximately 1,000 men strong. The Sacred Band formed about a third of one of these units. There were a couple of other mechanics or processes that I continue to struggle with in the TRIUMPH! rules. One of these was moving obliquely, even though the advancing units were very close to the enemy. (They were not within the ZOC, however.) I also had difficulty with the alignment or “snapping to” in a couple of instances, as it appears that this might result in the non-active player having a portion of his line shift right or left, thus leaving a unit of units exposed to potential overlaps. It seems to me that the burden should be on the attacking player. To reiterate, I am getting better with the rules or feel that I am. It is entirely possible that I am not progressing, and I have much more work to do. 

Given the nature of the deployments and the terrain across which this wargame was played, it was a very straightforward contest. Pretending to be - sequentially during part of a turn - one of six identified commanders on the tabletop battlefield, I do not believe I showed any bias to either side or any particular command. I did not try to execute any “gamey” moves. Generally speaking, I simply advanced the Macedonian phalanx into the waiting line of Greek hoplites. If anything, I was perhaps too conservative and thus perhaps not very realistic when portraying Alexander during each turn. The difference between his action during the historical battle and his action during my staged refight was like the difference between night and day. 

During the historical battle, Philip was able to draw the Athenians, or a good number of them, out of line, out of position. This feint opened up the Greek line and allowed Alexander the avenue by which he could sweep around the Greek right and fall upon the Thebans. As I had switched the deployment of the Thebans and Athenians, perhaps I should have drafted some scenario rule or “battle card” to inflict the same possibility of the Theban hoplites. 

While I was able to fit the entire battle, or my version of it, on my tabletop, I did sometimes find the dimensions of the counters to be a bit fiddly. (I also noticed that my green cloth seems to be “pilling” on the one side. At least I think that is the term. This sometimes interfered with the placement and alignment of the units.)  

Overall, I think the TRIUMPH! rules were able to handle Chaeronea. I have seen or read about  examples of the rules “tackling” other historical engagements. It might prove entertaining and educational to see how TRIUMPH! does with the contests that have been selected for Battle Day. How would these rules perform when refighting Chalons, Gaugamela, Kadesh, Pharsalus, Poitiers, or Zama? 

Hmmm . . . Zama. Now there’s an interesting thought. 

SUGGESTED READING/VIEWING

For those with the interest and time, here are a number of links to information about the historical battle: 

https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Battle_of_Chaeronea_(338_BC)

https://www.google.com/search?q=chaeronea+battle&tbm=isch&source=iu&ictx=1&fir=FuqBx2JuVNaglM%252CwEovG69j4O6h3M%252C_&vet=1&usg=AI4_-kTAlvqQupYNa2zPAYwvmszMe9MH6Q&sa=X&ved=2ahUKEwjK44TO-cbyAhUIa80KHdV7ByMQ_h16BAhFEAE#imgrc=FuqBx2JuVNaglM

https://www.livius.org/articles/battle/chaeronea-338-bce/

http://www.arsbellica.it/pagine/antica/Cheronea/Cheronea_eng.html

There are also a number of YouTube videos available.

To be sure, Chaeronea has been wargamed many times. Following, please see five sites/blogs reporting on traditional refights of the engagement: 

https://www.vislardica.com/vb-sc-chaeronea

http://sparkerswargames.blogspot.com/2015/12/chaeronea-338-bc.html

http://shaun-wargaming-minis.blogspot.com/2014/09/battle-of-chaeronea-338bc-using-ancient.html

https://wargames.richardevers.nl/chaeronea.htm

http://palousewargamingjournal.blogspot.com/2018/08/chaeronea-to-strongest-style.html

Notes

1. I feel it necessary to warn readers that the following note is of an unusual perhaps even ridiculous length. In my defense, there is a lot to unpack, as people sometimes remark. I very much appreciate the reader’s patience and perseverance with what follows. This was one of my bigger battles using the Armati 2nd Edition rules. Instead of simply doubling the Core Units, Bonus Units, and Control Ratings, I decided to draft armies six times the usual size and reinforce them with 600 points worth of bonus units. When I was all done with creating the orders of battle and fabricating the various formations, I found that I would be commanding over 225 units on my table. For those readers interested in details, Pyrrhus would have 116 units in his army. Half a dozen of these were veterans. There were 28 cavalry units and 6 elephant units; the rest were infantry. There were 70 ‘key’ units in this grand army; 40 of these were PH (heavy infantry) units with a breakpoint of 4. (The veteran PH units had a breakpoint of 5.) In contrast, there were 111 units in Hannibal’s army, 6 of which were veterans. He had 40 cavalry units (almost half were Numidians) along with 8 units of small elephants as opposed to the larger breed employed by Pyrrhus. There were 89 ‘key’ units in this polyglot yet powerful force. The cavalry arm was the most numerous, followed by 28 foot formations and then a host of 21 warbands filled with screaming, half-naked barbarians sporting tattoos and wild hair. To be certain, my armies and my fictional ancient battlefield looked nothing like the immense and impressive wargames featured in the colorful March 2012 issue of WARGAMES illustrated®. My large tabletop was rather small compared to those used by a collection of accomplished historical wargamers. In fact, my playing area was smaller than the smallest table used in the American Civil War battle/scenario! To be sure, the terrain for these three impressively huge engagements was eye-catching and period appropriate. It certainly added to the atmosphere. (Though I did wonder how much use one would get from a sculpted table measuring 22 feet by 8 feet, and where or how one would store it.) Thousands of figures were used by the groups of enthusiasts. For the ACW scenario alone, there were about six thousand 28mm figures positioned on the various tables. (The mind, or my mind at least, reels at these numbers, at the size of the wargame.) All three games were historical or based in history. My scenario was ahistorical. Finally, these massive projects were collaborative efforts. The player-generals are pictured in two of the narratives, and each battle drew 12 or more historical miniature gamers to the table side or table sides. The intention of my solo wargame project was two-fold. First, I wanted to distract myself from the perennial disappointment of not being able to attend Battle Day. (Please see  https://www.soa.org.uk/joomla/battle-day.) Second, I was interested in testing some ideas/rules about command and control, especially when dealing with such large forces. Ideally, my coherent, engaging, and interesting narrative would have utilized as well as seamlessly blended the information from four sources. The first was “Solo Wargaming,” an excellent article authored by admitted non-expert John Hastings which appeared in the July/August 2021 issue of Slingshot, The Journal of The Society of Ancients. The second was found in the same publication, but the author was Anthony Clipsom, and his thought-provoking piece was titled “Game Mechanics and Realism.” The third and fourth sources or “mines of information” were the discussion threads “Are ahistorical match-ups really all that bad?” and “Wargaming vs Historical Tactics,” which received rather a lot of attention on The Society Forum, as one might expect. If the reader will permit me to extend an already gargantuan note, I would like to comment on the first discussion thread and then a make a couple of remarks about the introduction to the article written by John Hastings. With respect to the discussion thread, the phrasing of the question regarding the value of ahistorical match-ups seems rather poor if not prejudiced. Then again, I suppose that most value-oriented questions are. Perhaps something along the lines of “What do members think of ahistorical match-ups?”would have been less judgmental or leading. Turning, finally, to the introduction of John’s article (my guess is that it was penned by the editor, but I cannot be absolutely sure), I wonder what evidence there is to back up the claim regarding the “scattered nature of the Ancients wargaming community”? I wonder too, if this is a condition limited to just wargamers interested in the time span 3000 BC to 1500 AD. I cannot help but be curious; do Naval, ACW, and First Carlist War enthusiasts live next door to one another or on the same block? The use of the term schizophrenia when describing solo wargamers gave me pause. As a veteran solo wargamer, I am offended if not insulted. It seems that a more positive, less diagnostic approach could have been taken here. What about admiring or applauding the strength or perseverance of solo wargamers? These individuals have to do twice the work of a “normal” player-general. Was the use of this term meant in jest? Is the author of this introduction a medical professional with years of experience? I wish that he would have taken a few minutes to check on the definition of schizophrenia before putting words to the page. According to the website https://www.psychiatry.org/patients-families/schizophrenia/what-is-schizophrenia, accessed on August 20, 2021, “Schizophrenia is a chronic brain disorder that affects less than one percent of the U.S. population. When schizophrenia is active, symptoms can include delusions, hallucinations, disorganized speech, trouble with thinking and lack of motivation.” Furthermore, “The complexity of schizophrenia may help explain why there are misconceptions about the disease. Schizophrenia does not mean split personality or multiple-personality.” To reiterate, speaking (well, typing) as a solo wargamer with quite a few years of experience in addition to a fairly decent record of publication, I take offense at this potentially libelous statement. Given the above definition, how could I set up a wargame after wargame, play them, and prepare narratives of the action for publication or posting to a blog if I had “trouble with thinking and lacked the motivation”? If it was in fact meant as a joke, then in my opinion, it was a very poor one.
2. I relied upon Warfare in the Classical World as well as other sources when I refought Chaeronea with ADLG (L’Art de la Guerre). Please see “Another Consideration of Chaeronea” in the July/August 2016 issue of Slingshot.
3. I admit that there is a degree of irony in this selection. In a recent post titled “TINKERING WITH TRIUMPH!,” I explained that I had some difficulties getting used to the system and its mechanics having played with other sets of rules for decades. One “sticking area or point” for me especially was not tracking, in some fashion, the degraded status of a unit as it moved and fought. In the recently completed Hannibal versus Pyrrhus contest, I found myself growing tired of marking scores of units with casualty markers, fatigue markers, and disordered or un-formed markers. Given the number of units on my tabletop, near the end of the wargame, the battlefield looked like a city street filled with bits of confetti after a parade had passed.
4. The standard reach or range of a commander is 16 MUs (32 cm, 48 cm, or 64 cm, depending on frontage of the units selected for play). Initially, I toyed with the idea of “limiting” the Greek commanders to 15 MU or perhaps even less. The sub-general responsible for the Allied Contingent of the Greek Army did not need 16 MU of command radius. I also toyed with giving King Philip a command reach of 20 MU or even 24 MU. His son was rated at 16 MU to start and then his ability was increased so that he could share command with “dear old dad.” However and unfortunately, I was unable to decide upon a sufficient spilt with respect to command. Consequently, I created a sub-general to command the central “steps” of the phalanx. The Macedonians would also have three armies or commands then, just like their Greek Alliance enemies. 
5. Even though my effort was essentially a map exercise played with miniature wargaming rules, I had no trouble picturing the steady, impressive, and I would imagine quite frightening advance of the Macedonian pike phalanxes. I wondered if they sang or chanted, or did they advance in relative silence, except for the commands spoken by file leaders and the like. Conversely, I wondered what the Macedonian infantrymen, at least those in the first few ranks, might feel and think as they approach a solid line of very quiet Greek hoplites. To be sure, the visual spectacle of painted and based miniatures was lacking, but so was the sight of bent and or warped sarissas. There was also no fear of impaling a finger or palm on a pike block or hoplite phalanx. Additionally, there was no worry about inflicting dice damage on purchased, painted, and prepared-for-battle 15mm figures. 

 TINKERING WITH TRIUMPH!

Shortly after purchasing the PDF version of TRIUMPH! - Rules for Tabletop Battles, Ancient and Medieval (Version 1.1, November 2019) near the end of July, I set up a tutorial involving an “army” of Athenians and an “army” of Thebans. [1] Being a “newbie” to the rules, I wanted to focus on movement and more on melee than anything else. Therefore, there was no terrain, there were no camps, and there was no flank march nor Battle Cards. Some readers might roll their eyes, shake their heads, or even feel slightly sick to their stomachs, but there were no figures employed either. The opposing formations of hoplites (heavy foot), psiloi (rabble), and horsemen (javelin cavalry) were represented by simple cardboard counters (prepared with 60 mm frontages and corresponding depths) with identification labels attached. 

After brief advances (the opposing forces were not that far apart on a very simple battlefield), which went smoothly (my inexperience considered), about half a dozen turns of pushing and shoving followed. The ordered lines of hoplites soon resembled jigsaw puzzle pieces spread out over a card table. In some sections of the line, the Thebans had done rather well. In fact, at one point, they managed to overwhelm the unit led by the Athenian general and essentially split the Athenian “army” in two. In other sections of the line, the Athenians stubbornly held their ground or were able to push back the Theban phalanxes. In a few melees, the Athenians managed to rout their foes. Growing a little tired of the back and forth, I halted the experiment and started thinking about trying different armies or perhaps even a larger battle. 

Being more familiar with rules like Armati, IMPETVS, Hail Caesar, L’Art de la Guerre, Tactica II, and To The Strongest!, it felt odd not to mark losses or even fatigue on any of the engaged units. [2] The timing of combats, that is the picking and choosing of where and when, and the possible overlaps that might result also struck me as a little odd, as I would have thought that a group of four or five units making contact with four or five enemy units would result in a fairly intense and large fight instead of a series of local ones. Then again, I can see the point of breaking down something large and chaotic into smaller and somewhat more orderly pieces for the sake of resolution of a necessarily abstracted melee process. 

The strangeness of not marking casualties and noting levels of fatigue appeared again in an attempt to stage a contest that bore a resemblance to The Hydaspes (326 BC). Once again, no camps or flank marches were employed, and terrain was not really a concern, as the model battlefield was featureless, flat and dark green in color. The units or stands were slightly more attractive, however, as they were fabricated from colored poster board. Having gained a little experience with command points, movement, and melee, I was eager to study the mechanics and or procedures of missile fire as well as deploy elephants on the table and see how these animals would perform under the new rules. 

In brief summary, after about eight turns of fighting, I halted the proceedings as both sides appeared to be pretty beat up, for lack of a more technical or appropriate wargaming term. Over on Alexander’s right, a couple of units of Horse Bow were engaged in a protracted back and forth tussle with an equal number of Indian chariots. The impetuous leader himself was hotly engaged by a few units of enemy chariots. This fight was a drawn out affair as well. Alexander rolled pretty poor dice (even with the bonus for a general) and was almost always “forced back,” only to re-enter the combat in the following turn. The Indian archers, that is, Bow Levy, and accompanying elephants did not really do much against the pike phalanx. In fact, once the pikemen were able to advance through the beaten zone, the resulting melees with the archers were rather short and usually one sided. Over on the Indian right, command and control problems prevented the large numbers of Indian horse from enveloping the Macedonian left flank, but another group of Indian elephants were able to wreak havoc on the mercenary hoplite formations. Eventually, the opposing lines of cavalry met and a “to and fro” contest resulted, even though the Indians had a numerical advantage. After a few turns of fighting, both commands on this side of the field were demoralized. (In GRAND TRIUMPH!, Article 15.1 explains that a command becomes demoralized once it has lost a third - in points - of its original strength. This status impacts command radius as well as the fighting ability of the remaining units.) The Indian center had been punctured, but Alexander was still hung up on the right, with the chariots, horse archers, and companions continuing to fight as if they were as fresh as daisies and had suffered no losses at all. 

After dismantling this very amateur and not very aesthetically appealing refight of a historical battle, I spent a few days doing what I should have done in the first place. Instead of setting up a battle on my tabletop (whether normal or full-size using the GRAND TRIUMPH! rules), I staged several “learning labs” wherein I could focus more on the mechanics of missile fire, melee, outcome moves, and the interaction of the 26 troop types. I also spent several hours, approximately, watching and enjoying the catalog of YouTube videos dedicated to explaining TRIUMPH!

Just over three pages into a draft of a possible article/post about these experiments, it occurred to me that my efforts would be fairly redundant, so I stopped typing, moved the partial document into a folder reserved for incomplete ideas (at the risk of revealing too much, the folder is rather full), and started looking around for another idea or source of inspiration. 

The arrival of the July/August 2021 issue of Slingshot (a well known publication I once contributed to but was dismayed to be informed in June of 2020 that the volume of my submissions created an editorial concern of “single author dominance,” therefore . . .) reminded me that the postponed Battle Day was rapidly approaching. [3] Wanting to participate in some fashion, if indirectly as well as atypically, I started drawing up plans for a late fifteenth century contest that would take place on the Continent instead of on an island nation and would see Later Ordonnance French forces take on Later Germans instead of armies representing the interests of the houses of York and Lancaster. [4] While this decision would not provide me the opportunity to command historical personalities and perhaps draft some scenario rules for treachery, it would afford me the chance to lead knights, pikemen, archers, and skirmishers carrying primitive firearms, as well as deploy a variety of equally primitive cannons.  

Another read through of the GRAND TRIUMPH! rules was followed by a period of intense unit production. On a modified tabletop that bore a faint resemblance to the ancient battlefield of Chaeronea (338 BC), 144 points worth of Later French advanced upon and engaged 143 points of Later Germans. (Oddly enough, the Germans had five more units than the French when the orders of battles were compared.) Once again, neither side deployed a camp or camps, neither side opted for a flank march, and there were no Battle Cards in play.

In his engaging and thought-provoking article about solo wargaming, John Hastings (a long standing and respected member of The Society of Ancients) stated: “Time and space are two essentials for any activity.” I do not disagree, but would suggest that money or discretionary income is also rather important when undertaking or pursuing an activity. Recognizing that space would be a challenge, John elected to collect 6 mm figures and armies. While available playing surface is also a concern of mine, I find that available funds is more of a worry or stressor. Hence, I choose to employ colored counters instead of traditional figures, painted and based on flocked stands. To borrow from or reference the “Game Mechanics and Realism” article written by Anthony Clipsom (another long standing and respected member of The Society), in the ‘Playing Games’ section of his brief “paper,” he summarizes: 

We play for different reasons; we have different styles and different tastes. 

Some people are quite restrictive in the games they want to play, others 

omnivorous. To some, the wargames table is a moving diorama where they direct 

some historical recreations of battles past. To others it is the arena in which an 

intellectual exercise is played out . . . 

While this is very well stated, I have often wondered if the principle of “acceptance” or as I’ve read in some articles and posts, “horses for courses,” is easier said or trotted out (no play on words intended), as opposed to practiced. Anyway. In this photo, the opposing armies are lined up for battle. The French (in blue) are on the left; the Germans (in gray) are on the right. The right wing and center commands of the Later French Ordonnance are visible, as is part of the hill (with the ruins) which faced the German left. 

Eight turns of this fictional contest were completed before interest began to wane and then reached a level where it was decided to not continue. Once again, the formations of the engaged commands (there were three essentially equal corps or battles on each side) started to resemble a collection of puzzle pieces. While they were all right side up, many were separated from friends or neighbors and more than several found themselves in flanking positions while at the same time, in the zone of control of an enemy unit. Once again, I was taken aback by the lack of casualty and fatigue markers. [5] In addition, I found myself wondering about the interaction between some of the troop types. I also raised an eyebrow or two when lop-sided competitive die roles resulted in the obliteration of an otherwise full strength unit without producing any apparent negative effects on neighboring units. [6] At the risk of slipping further into a kind of “critique” or “questioning mode,” from the onset, I wondered about the universal benefit of having a general attached to or integrated with a specific unit and the universal command range of leaders. If one tries to refight The Hydaspes, would Alexander really be the same kind of leader as Porus? If one builds and commands a Roman army during the time of Caesar and places the Great Man himself in charge, does that mean Caesar will have the same capabilities and or qualities of the British, Gallic, or Parthian commander facing him? 

Coincidentally, the July/August issue of Slingshot contained interesting material from the desk and mind of John Hastings as well as from Anthony Clipsom. The first gentleman offered a collection of thoughts on aspects of solo wargaming. The second gentleman offered his thoughts on the interrelated topics of “gameyness,” realism, plausibility and playability. Being a veteran solo wargamer (I have been commanding both sides on my tabletop since the late 1980s), I could identify, relate, and sympathize with everything John had to say on the topic. Though I have not specifically focused on the several categories examined by Anthony, it would be foolish to suggest that they were never considered or worried about in the scores of battles I have waged in “miniature.” 

A close up taken of the German right command, a few turns into the fictional contest. The large red/brown die shows the number of command points available to the local German commander. The blue and white dice mark the units involved in the missile fire phase of the game turn. Per the rules and tables on the QRS, archers get a +3 modifier for ranged combat while most targeted units also receive a +3 modifier. The elite cavalry formation has trotted up to but not attacked the “deep” formation of German bow levy and horde. 

An extreme close up of action on the French right, showing a melee between the opposing lines of foot. Here, three units of German infantry are “ganging up” on an isolated unit of French pikemen. Per the QRS, the German heavy foot have a combat factor of 4. Normally, the French would have a combat factor of 3, but since they are overlapped on both sides, their combat factor is reduced to 1. 

Another view of the French right, showing the “firework effect” or “puzzle pieces syndrome.” Some French bow levy have managed to secure the ruins of the monastery, while the German Bad Horse seem content to watch and the German bow levy wait in reserve while their heavier counterparts do the majority of the fighting. 

Taken on the German right, showing the chaotic melee between the “deep” formations of bow levy and horde versus the numerous enemy elite cavalry. As the local fighting progressed, the Italian knights got involved as did some of the heavier German foot units. 

More often than not, either a French of German unit found itself engaged frontally and then assaulted on its flank.

I do not believe that my recent engagement or experiment with TRIUMPH! was a waste of time or of money. [7] While I did find the lack of casualty and fatigue markers a bit jarring - at least initially, and the interaction of the various troop types as well as outcomes a bit like learning a foreign language, this set of rules won’t be relegated to the storage bin containing sets of rules purchased and read but never played. For the short term, however, my focus will not be on becoming more experienced or versed in how to make better (or more historical) use Rabble, Heavy Foot, Bad Horse, and War Wagons, just to name several troop types. I have been mulling over an idea about Command and Control, especially as it pertains to the Armati stable of rules. Recently, I have also found myself thinking about naval warfare in the ancient period. This was sparked by my recent post about Salamis and some of the comments it generated. I confess, however, that I am worried about getting in over my head with respect to this topic. 

As life and time permits, I am quite certain that I will be rewatching many of the instructional videos about TRIUMPH! I will also be watching the wargames that were played with the rules. (The reconstructions of Hastings and Hattin are engaging and interesting.) I certainly hope more battle narratives are produced and posted. If COVID-19 and its vexing variants have run their courses by next year, I hope to attend a day or two of Little Wars 2022, where I hope to find a TRIUMPH! game or three on the events program. I think participating in these convention games would, obviously, result in additional experience, as well as providing an opportunity for a great level of engagement as well as entertainment.  

Notes

1. These Classical Greek armies are among hundreds, “ranging from the Sumerians to the early Renaissance,” available for free at http://meshwesh.wgcwar.com/home. Much ink (more electronic than traditional) has been spilled regarding this set of rules. According to my amateur and brief research, Andreas Johansson, a long standing and respected member of The Society of Ancients, initiated a discussion thread about TRIUMPH! on November 19, 2016. The ensuing conversation (sometimes debate) was, as per usual, lively, “loud,” and long-running. On April 26 of 2020, in Reply #79, a Forum Administrator by the name of Nick Harbud remarked that the conversation had been interesting, but had run its course. The discussion thread was locked or closed. A traditional or printed review of Version 1.0 of TRIUMPH! (as opposed to “early access” editions) appeared in the November/December 2018 issue of Slingshot. The author was Anthony Johansson. As I recall, these published remarks did not ignite a storm of commentary. Other impressions, thoughts about and reviews of TRIUMPH! were found at the following links: https://www.thewargameswebsite.com/forums/topic/thoughts-on-triumph-fast-play-rules/; http://theminiaturespage.com/boards/msg.mv?id=512986; http://theminiaturespage.com/boards/msg.mv?id=483578, and http://minimaerk.blogspot.com/2017/07/triumph-test-game.html. Additional material or explanation (rationale?) was found on the TRIUMPH! Forum. A post/reply made by one David Schlanger (Grand Master WGC) on February 18, 2021, was quite informative. At the risk of extending this note, it strikes me as ironic that I actually have copies of DBA and DBM in my “rules library.” While I have read these rulebooks and I have seen some videos about the mechanics of play and or wargames played with them, I have never staged a wargame using either set of rules. 
2. If pressed to rank my familiarity or experience, I would rank these sets in the following order (from most experience, familiarity and comfort to least): Armati, L’Art de la Guerre, IMPETVS, Hail Caesar, Tactica II, and To The Strongest! 
3. The Battle of Bosworth, 1485 AD, was the historical engagement selected for Battle Day 2020, an annual event hosted/sponsored by The Society of Ancients since 2004. Informed ahead of time of this particular selection, I “went to work” in early 2018 and by the middle of 2019 had refought the battle three times using three different sets of rules. A narrative report of my “miniature” wargames was submitted for consideration and in the May/June 2020 issue of Slingshot, “The Red Dragon vs The White Boar” was published. Evidently, the article was not widely read. Unfortunately, those who did bother to wade through it commented that it had missed the mark; that it was not a very good effort. To amend an old saying: “You can displease some of the people some of the time.” Anyway. The sensibly delayed as well as restricted in numbers/tables Bosworth Battle Day was rescheduled for August 15 and moved to a new venue. Previously, the annual gathering had been held at Sycamore Hall in Bletchley.
4. The choice of these two forces may have been a product of my current reading material. I recently picked up THE WESTERN FRONT: A HISTORY OF THE GREAT WAR 1914-1918, by Nick Lloyd, from my local library. 
5. Perhaps this is proof, if I may amend the saying, that you cannot teach an old wargamer new tricks.
6. There is no disorder or similar status in TRIUMPH! Given the level of abstraction, perhaps there does not need to be. I think I understand the mechanics of the overlap, and perhaps this negative modifier represents, in some fashion, the impact on morale of friendly units next to those who are destroyed or broken.
7. The PDF version of the rules costs 15 dollars US, or the approximate price of a “complicated” or “fancy” cup of coffee, a yogurt, a breakfast sandwich, and a donut from my local Starbucks. 

 A STAGING OF SALAMIS

Thinking that a break from the various concerns about and considerations of cataphracts, elephants, hoplites and pikemen, as well as a sort of sabbatical from the study of De Bellis Multitudinis (DBM), L’Art de la Guerre (ADLG), Tactica II, and similar rules might prove refreshing and restorative, as the final week of 2019 made its inevitable and all too rapid approach, I turned my attention to the subject of ancient naval warfare. [1] Having no experience whatsoever in staging wargames of this variety, the prudent course of action would have been to start slow and small, perhaps with a handful of triremes or quinqueremes on each side, so that I could get my “sea legs.” However and typically, being a long-standing enthusiast of larger actions, battles, and scenarios, I decided to skip this gradual as well as sensible approach and dive, as it were, right into the deep end. For my first wargame of the new year then, I decided to attempt a reconstruction and refight of Salamis. [2]

Interpretations and Options

In the April 2003 issue of Wargames Illustrated, casual readers and faithful subscribers were treated to David Manley’s “Greek Fire and Roman Fury: Ancient Fleet Action Rules,” among other interesting content. As one might guess from the title of his submission, these rules were an adaptation of the popular American Civil War rules Fire and Fury. [3] In addition to the rules, David provided a ready-made scenario for refighting the battle of Salamis. According to the included orders of battle, the Persian fleet outnumbered the Greeks 740 ships to 340. According to the small black and white diagram on the lower right corner of page 59, the Greek fleet had the Athenian contingent on the left, the Spartan contingent in the centre, and the aphract triremes and pentakonters of the Minor States holding the right of the line. As for the Persian dispositions, well, the Ionian and Egyptian squadrons were on the right, facing the Athenians. These ships were separated from their allies by a thin but sizable and unidentified island. On the Persian left, the Phoenician and Cypriot squadrons took up station. These aphract triremes were pointed toward the squadrons of the Greek Minor States and those of the Spartans. To be certain, it would have been a relatively simple matter to use David’s rules as written and stage his version of the great naval battle. However, I was interested in finding out more about the history of the contest, so I looked for and consulted other sources. 

Two diagrams, orders of battle, and an explanatory caption of Salamis were found on pages 32-33 of Warfare in the Classical World. [4] The diagram on the left was the “big picture” illustration and showed the Egyptian squadrons being sent to block the Megarian channel. Consequently, the 75-90 Egyptian ships in the Persian fleet did not figure in the actual engagement. The tactical map on the right had a compass rose, a ground scale, and broad arrows indicating the movement of the opposing squadrons. According to the explanatory caption, the approximately 50 ships from Aegina and Megara were placed in ambush. These squadrons engaged the Ionians, who brought around 100 vessels to the battle. Evidently, the main Greek fleet (the Athenians were on the left of this deployment as well) “backed water” and drew the Persian ships, a mix of allied or subject states and Phoenicians into the narrow waters around the Pharmakousse Islands. The summary caption explained that the Phoenician admiral was “an early casualty.” As a result, there was some confusion in the Phoenician ranks. The Athenians took advantage of this and drove the enemy fleet back to Psyttaleia. Here, Greek marines landed and eliminated the Persian garrison. The Warfare summary also explained that the Corinthian squadron held off the Egyptians. As to losses, it appears that the Persians lost 200 triremes, while the Greeks lost only 40. Doing some quick calculations, it seems that the Greeks had about 220 ships in their main line of battle. There were 50 ships in the ambush force. As previously stated, the Ionians had around 100 ships, or twice the number, approximately, representing the Aeginetans and Megarians. The main force of Persians appears to have contained between 275 and 300 ships. These squadrons were probably “squeezed” as they pursued the withdrawing Greeks, so it is not unreasonable to imagine their deployment was rather deep. It is also not unreasonable to estimate that the Persians could not bring their superior numbers to bear or use them to advantage. From the diagram on page 33, it seems that the allied nations or subject states led the way, while the Phoenician squadrons followed. 

In Carnage and Culture: Landmark Battles in the Rise of Western Power, the accomplished, acclaimed, and prolific academic Victor Davis Hanson devotes an entire chapter to the study of Salamis. [5] There is a full-page map on page 45, which offers plenty of useful information to the interested if also inexperienced ancients naval wargamer. According to this diagram, the Persian fleet was arranged in three lines. The vast majority of its ships are south of Pysttaleia Island. Of the four sections identified, the Phoenicians are on the far right, while the Ionian Greeks are the second group from the left. This illustration does show the Egyptian squadron headed away from the main action. As for the Greek deployment, the Athenians are again on the left, but the allied city-states are in the centre. The Spartan contingent holds the right of the line. (This arrangement led me to wonder if there was any similarity between naval and land battles, as the position on the right was the considered the place of honour.) This diagram showed no ambush, but did indicate the Spartans sailing or rowing south and then making a sharp left turn into the Persian fleet. There was no indication of additional islands that might have disrupted or “crowded” the Persian advance, but the suggestion was there, given the placement of Pysttaleia Island. With regard to the battle itself, Professor Hanson offers the interested reader several nuggets of information. He starts on page 43 by explaining that:

Unfortunately, our ancient sources—the historian Herodotus and the playwright 

        Aeschylus [6], along with much later accounts from the Roman period 

        by Plutarch, Diodorus, and Nepos—tell us almost nothing about the battle itself, 

        but do suggest that the reconstituted Greek fleet was outnumbered by at least 

        two to one and perhaps by as much as three or even four to one. We are not sure 

        how many ships were present at the battle on either side—given prior losses at 

        the first sea battle at Artemesium weeks earlier and subsequent reinforcements—

        but there must have been somewhere between 300 and 370 Greek vessels 

        arrayed against a Persian armada of well over 600 warships.

On page 44, the noted author remarks that Salamis might hold the record for “the greatest number of combatants in any one engagement in the entire history of naval warfare.” He continues, informing that, “Most ancient observers also remark that the sailors of the Greek fleet were less experienced than those of the imperial Persian flotilla, who were veteran rowers from Phoenicia, Egypt, Asia Minor, Cyprus, and Greece itself.” The professor quotes Herodotus, who evidently spoke or wrote of “the Greek ships as being ‘heavier’ (baruteras) than any other ships.” One could surmise that because of this apparent weight, the Athenian ships were perhaps slower. On page 46, Professor Hanson estimates that, “The battle was fought for perhaps eight hours sometime between September 20 and 30, but most likely September 28.” He continues the description, noting:

By nightfall the ships of the Persian fleet were either sunk or scattered, and 

        the morale of the invading sailors lost. Most enemy vessels were sunk by 

        ramming, as Greek triremes darted in and out of the clumsy Persian formations, 

        which quickly became dispersed as national contingents operated 

        independently and in their own interests. Although in theory the fleeing enemy 

        still outnumbered the Greek fleet, the Persian armada was no longer battle 

        worthy, with more than 100,000 imperial sailors killed, wounded, missing, 

        dispersed, or sailing back across the Aegean.

Rereading and reviewing these few sources, I decided to defer to the scholarship of Professor Hanson when setting up my refight of Salamis. This is not to say, however, that I completely ignored that treatment provided in Warfare or the simple account offered by David Manley.

Rules Summary & Suggested Amendments

Rather than use or represent individual ships, David proposes squadrons which are formed into fleets. Each base (the actual dimensions may vary depending on the models employed) represents 10 actual ships. The bases are formed into squadrons, which are commanded by admirals. Fleets are made up of two or more squadrons, and are commanded by fleet admirals. Admirals are given ratings as to their overall effectiveness. Under David’s adapted rules, these ratings are poor, average, and exceptional. Squadrons are also rated for the ability and effectiveness of their crews. These ratings are elite, average, and poor. Like the original Fire and Fury rules, squadrons degrade when they suffer losses. The morale levels in this adapted set of rules are high, wavering, and crumbling. The ship data section of David’s rules is rather extensive. (I was not aware of all the different types of vessels. I had heard of triremes and quinqueremes, of course, but not of Sedekares, Dromon, and Pamphlyos.) Ship bases are assigned a number of values based on ship type. Each base has a speed, a missile and melee value, and assigned a yes or no for ram bow, towers, and cataphract, which is evidently a kind of protection for the slaves or volunteers doing the hard work of rowing. The permissible formations are basic and straightforward. I confess to being most intrigued by the kyklos, which is a defensive circle. A poor analogy might be a kind of water-based porcupine, or perhaps something like the Roman legionary testudo formation. The sequence of play is IGO-UGO, with Player A rolling for the movement of his squadrons, conducting missile fire (which is mutual and simultaneous) and then resolving melee. Player B follows the same steps. Movement is easier when the squadron is of high morale, in formation, and commanded by a competent admiral. If the unit is out of formation, if its morale is not quite so good, well then, it is rather difficult to move the way or as much as you would like to. The process and effect of missiles is abstracted. Missile values are calculated for all involved bases and a d10 is rolled. Depending on the result, the defender may or may not have their melee roll negatively adjusted. The melee process is similar in that the value of the involved ships is calculated, a d10 is rolled, modifiers are applied, and a comparison of the scores produces the result of the melee. These can range from both sides losing a stand or base and both being labeled as out of formation, to the defeated squadron losing four stands, its morale collapsing, and the squadron being eliminated as an effective fighting formation. 

Unable to resist tinkering a bit with David’s adapted rules, I drafted a handful of changes. First, I reduced the representative scale from 10 ships to a base or stand to just 8 ships per base. If one accepts 150 as the number of Athenian triremes present, as indicated in the Warfare order of battle, then 19 bases (perhaps this total can be rounded up to 20?) will be needed to model the Athenian fleet at Salamis. Thinking that there were not enough ratings of admirals, I increased these categories as well as changed their labels. Instead of just three ratings, I borrowed the leader classifications from the fairly popular IMPETVS rules. Admirals and Fleet Admirals could now be Incompetent, Poor, Fair, Exceptional, or Genius/Charismatic. As for ship crews, well, I designated four categories or ratings. Crews could be either Elite, Experienced, Trained, or Untrained. Based on the information gleaned from the explanatory caption found on page 32 of Warfare, I decided to allow backwards movement, or “backing water” in my scenario. The squadron had to be in formation to attempt this special move, however. Further, its rate or speed would be reduced to one-third of its normal speed. (Fractions rounded down.) The fifth and final change I made to David’s adapted rules was this: squadron commanders could become casualties at any stage of the fighting. This amendment was also based on the information provided in the Warfare caption. Instead of the admiral’s base being the last stand removed in a squadron, the commanding admiral could be killed, severely wounded, captured, or otherwise removed from the battle if, after the melee phase was completed, a separate roll of 2d6 resulted in doubles. A subordinate would take the former admiral’s place, but the squadron would be designated as out of formation for the remainder of the action. 

Salamis, 2020 AD

Map 1 shows how I set up my small table to refight the historic naval battle. For this very amateur attempt, I placed the Athenians on the left, the Allied City-states in the centre, and the Spartans on the right. 

The Persian fleet was arranged with the Phoenicians on the right, the Cypriots to their left, and then the Ionian contingent to their left. The various subject states were positioned on the far left of the Persian lines. I considered indicating some shoreline, but then elected not to. So that I could get some practice moving the collection of ships before missiles started flying, rams started crashing into the sides of enemy vessels or raking their oars, and contingents of marines began attacking each other, I set up the opposing fleets approximately 35 scale inches apart. It would take approximately three turns, then, before the various contingents came into contact and the actual fighting began.

Summary of the Action

The first two turns of this solo wargame were spent moving the “model” ships and squadrons closer to each other. [7] The Greek fleet, having better crews and better admirals, did very well on their command or movement rolls. In contrast, the Persian fleet suffered some less than good die rolls, which, when added to their several mediocre admirals, left some squadrons straining to keep up with their friends and neighbours. There was no exchange of missiles during these first turns, as the distance between the opposing aphract triremes was still too great. During the third turn of play, the first squadron of the Athenian fleet made contact with the leading squadron from the Phoenician contingent. Over on the right of the Greek position, the small Spartan fleet engaged the first squadron of the subject states rowing for Persia. While missiles were hurled, flung, and launched between ships, there were no casualties inflicted. Losses did come, however, with the melee phases of the third turn. Initially, the Athenians performed poorly, and lost two stands as a result. They bounced back quickly enough, though, and managed to disorder the Phoenician squadron as well as the Cypriot squadron that had joined the fight. In addition, the Phoenician squadron commander was killed during this early contest. In the centre, the Greek allied states faced off against the Ionian Greeks. Here, the battle went back and forth, but the allied states performed well and managed to inflict losses on the Ionian contingent and cause their ships to become “out of formation”. Something close to a disaster transpired on the Greek right, as the Spartans evidently forgot how talented and tough they were. Their squadrons made abysmal combat rolls versus the subject states rowing for the Persian Empire and as a result, found themselves much reduced in strength and without their fleet admiral as well, who perished in the confused fighting. As the Spartans continued to collapse (the numbers of enemy ships facing them were too large and again and again, the Spartan die rolls were terrible), the general engagement continued to develop. In the centre, the Greek allied states fought stubbornly against the Ionian squadrons. Eventually, the tide turned here in favour of the Greek allies. On the left of the line, under the watchful eye of Themistocles, the Athenians brought up their second squadron and started putting even more pressure on the Phoenician and Cypriot ships. Map 2 shows the state of the saltwater “field” at the end of the fifth turn of play. 

The Spartans have been eliminated, but by a strange development, the victorious squadron suffered a morale reversal (they rolled very badly for movement) and their crews decided that they had had enough of fighting for one day. The crews in the second squadron continued to row forward into the now open stretch of sea, but a few command and control issues meant that they could not turn the flank of the engaged Greek allies. At least not yet. Counting the dispersed allied squadron, the Persian fleet had lost 25 stands by this point. In stark contrast, the Greeks had lost just 12 stands. To be sure, the destruction of the Spartan contingent and the exposed right was a problem. 

Halfway through the next game turn, it was decided to call the contest. On the left, the Athenian squadrons destroyed the Cypriot contingent and continued to pummel the Phoenicians. This left only one full-strength Phoenician squadron and bits and pieces of a few others to defend against large numbers of Athenian triremes. In the centre, the Greek allied states captured or sank the rest of the Ionian squadron that was in contact. This action left this Persian ally with just one-third of its original strength. The Greeks now enjoyed a numerical superiority in this sector as well. Rather than shift the Persian subject state squadron around and back into the fight (a losing fight, it must be stressed), I figured that these captains and crews would have gotten wind of what was happening and, being in the open water with no enemy immediately nearby, they would have decided that discretion was indeed the better part of valour. The remaining squadron representing various subject states of the Persian Empire executed an about face and rowed, at a rather rapid pace it must be remarked, for a safe harbour. Needless to say, they were soon joined by what was left of the Phoenician and Ionian Greek contingents. 

Evaluation

As an old calendar was taken out of service and a new one prepared, history was repeated on my small tabletop. Admittedly, my amateur and abstract effort was not a true-to-the-known-or-understood-facts rerun of the historical battle, but it was a victory for the Greek side, for Greek culture and civilization. Instead of the Persian contingents being “confused” and disordered by the nature of the evidently narrow water, they were simply outfought. The glaring exception to this, of course, was the destruction of the Spartan fleet on my table. (Had I played against an actual opponent, I dare say that one of us would have had friendly “ammunition” or bragging rights for many months to come.) 

The abbreviated wargame was certainly different from my usual fare. That said, it was also fun and engaging. Indeed, I find myself rather tempted to explore this topic further. I confess to being drawn to the multiple naval engagements during the Punic Wars. Then again, I could also engineer something wherein Pompey does battle with pirates. It seems that it might be possible to combine my land-based interests with a naval aspect and thereby entertain a very large campaign game. Having sampled the “saltwater wine” of David Manley’s adapted rules, I find myself thinking about investing in a copy of Corvus, the naval rules advertised on the back cover of every issue of Slingshot arriving in the mail. 

Shifting to an assessment of David’s rules, well, it would be rather bold of me to offer an opinion or opinions given my lack of experience and given that this was my first attempt at sailing (or rowing) solo. At the same time, however, I would be remiss were I not to offer at least some comments and remarks. Here goes then. David’s rules work, but they take some getting used to. The IGO-UGO format was familiar, but the abstraction of having all ship bases count as being in contact when only a portion of either squadron was actually touching was a bit difficult to grasp or accept. For example, near the declared end of my refight, something like 16 bases of Athenians were fighting against a much smaller number of Phoenicians and Cypriots. I kept wondering or asking myself why the “uninvolved” Athenian ships did not move forward and swing around to take the enemy ships in the flank or from the rear. The procedures for missile exchange and melee resolution were simple and straightforward, but again, took some getting used to. It was often the case where calculating the missile values of various squadrons resulted in no effect. While necessarily abstracted, I sometimes wondered why 10 or more bases of Athenian ships could not hit the broadside of a floating barn. The melee process was more familiar. Here too, however, it was odd at times, to see a sudden and severe reversal of fortune take place. The Spartans suffered tremendously from poor dice. On a few occasions, the Athenians found themselves on the wrong end of a melee phase as well. Fortunately, for Themistocles and his democratic crews, these shifts in fortune were not too damaging. 

At the risk of appearing rather pleased with myself, I think the various rule amendments worked quite well. Caught up in the heat of the engagement, I did not use the “backing water” tactic. On reflection, I do suppose this movement could be revised further. Perhaps the enemy squadron would have to conduct some kind of test to see if it is “pulled” out of formation? Checking to see if the squadron admirals survived contact with the enemy worked well . . . too well in some cases, as there were several lost during the refight. Perhaps this amendment needs to be reviewed or tested some more? 

In summary, and at the risk of annoying the reader with word play, I think this naval “vacation” went rather swimmingly. It certainly felt strange to play with squadrons of ships instead of formations of infantry and cavalry, but at no point did I become seasick. Indeed, as remarked above, I find myself tempted to conduct further experiments in and explorations of this large and liquid laboratory. 

Notes

1. I regret to inform that I have not made much progress with Tactica II. The requirement for “handfuls of dice” to resolve missile exchanges and melees appears to be a rather substantial (or should I type “subjective”?) boulder blocking my path. In my estimation, there are lesser obstacles as well. I continue to work on becoming better and more confident with ADLG. Indeed, I hope to start a long-term project with these very popular rules (for competitions and tournaments anyway) around March of this year (2020). My interest in DBM was sparked by John Graham-Leigh’s short but superb article in the November/December 2019 issue of Slingshot. While I have found one Youtube tutorial on how to play DBM, I have not had much success in finding additional resources. I guess what I really need to do is find a local wargaming group that plays DBM so that I can learn, hands-on, from experienced players. 

2. A quick search of the 80 pages of the PDF Slingshot Index (1964-2010) produced several hits for the search word “Salamis.” Reviewing these four results, only two were found to be applicable. In Issue 4, the venerable Tony Bath authored “The Campaign and Battle of Salamis.” In Issue 25, Derrick Atwell wrote “Themistocles’ Movement Order [before Salamis].” With respect to the chronology of this particular project, the actual wargame was played in the final weeks of December 2019. The writing and editing was finalized in the first several days of 2020. I suppose, then, that I should relabel this as my first complete and submitted wargame of 2020. 

3. Readers are cordially invited to visit the following sites: https://www.wargamer.com/articles/boff-2-0-an-introduction-to-the-new-brigade-fire-and-fury/ and http://www.fireandfury.com/fireandfurymain.shtml.

4. On pages 30-31 of Warfare, there is an illustration of a Greek trireme, circa 500 BC. There are also diagrams and explanations of the ‘kyklos’, the ‘periplus’, and the ‘diekplus’. These are terms found within David’s rules. The additional information and illustrations on pages 30-31 of Warfare helped me to better understand these foreign words and concepts. 

5. Chapter Two is titled “Freedom—or “To Live as You Please” - Salamis, September 28, 480 B.C.” It starts on page 27 and runs to page 59. 

6. The description of the action provided by Aeschylus can be read here: http://www.poetry-archive.com/a/the_battle_of_salamis.html.

7. As with my many land battles, engagements, and scenarios, the units employed for this refight were fabricated on my laughably old computer, printed in colour, cut out, and then based on thick cardboard. They were model squadrons, but two-dimensional and rather abstract compared to the traditional three-dimensional miniatures or models.