THE WAYS OF WARGAMERS

I do suppose that the following “essay” could be viewed as a response to the thought-provoking post made by Aaron Bell on September 29, 2022. (Please see, if you have not read and enjoyed it already, “The changing face of wargaming,” at Here’s no great matter. [https://prufrockian-gleanings.blogspot.com/]) To be certain, Aaron’s brief personal history, chronology of experience and exposure, abbreviated list of products, comments, insights, as well as optimism were/are a source of inspiration. In rather sharp contrast, I would describe this work-in-progress post more as a collection of remarks with, perhaps, a few ideas sprinkled in. Additional inspiration was found in an “op/ed” that I stumbled across on the last page of Warning Order - Issue #60, the PDF of which was also stumbled upon during a visit to TMP. (Please see http://www.wfhgs.com/PDFFILES/wo60.pdf.) A third source of inspiration was discovered quite by accident while I was looking through the electronic pages of an old issue of Slingshot (The Journal of the Society of Ancients). I was doing some prep work or “research” for a solo project involving Franks or the Early Frankish, when, once again, I stumbled. This time the unseen “obstacle” or “treasure chest” was in the form of a Guardroom letter, written by a Phil Halewood, and published in the July 1999 issue. The gentlemen titled his correspondence “Why are we here and where are we going if we really want to?” On reading the first few paragraphs, I started seeing comparisons and connections to the aforementioned “op/ed” as well as to the post by Aaron. On re-reading and annotating the letter, I started seeing even more points of comparison and connection. It would be more than fair to comment that this piece of correspondence struck a chord or nerve (but in a good way) with this amateur wargamer/writer. On its own, the post from Aaron should inspire someone to respond and will, no doubt, generate a dozen or more comments. (His blog is quite popular and deservedly so.) The finding and reading of that single page “op/ed,” then Aaron’s post, and then discovering an “ancient” letter while looking for something completely different seemed to me a coincidence, confluence or perhaps serendipity? I don’t know. Rather than spend the mental energy trying to explain this series of fortunate and unplanned events, I thought it would be a better use of my time as well as easier to just offer some remarks about what I’ve read and what I’m thinking and wondering as a result. 

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The right honorable gentleman from New Zealand opens his September 29 post with a statement about how he has been very impressed or continues to be impressed with “the way that game design has progressed.” Well, this is awkward as it suggests a lack of awareness or involvement on my part . . . I’ve been wargaming for a number of years now, and I cannot recall ever really thinking about game design advancement or similar topics. My mental energy has typically been spent on figuring out what battle to stage, how to go about it, and how to write it up so that an editor of a publication catering to the hobby might accept it. Reflecting for a few minutes, I suppose that I can “recover” and offer that when I’ve traveled to conventions or purchased one of the colorful monthly wargaming magazines, I have been impressed by the variety of periods and figure scales, and by the corresponding increase in modeling skills. To be sure, I did notice new products, such as rules and games, but again, game design and related topics were something that I did not pay a whole lot of attention to. (Mea culpa, mea culpa . . .)

As per usual, Aaron’s statement is thought-provoking and may well generate a discussion or two at a club’s weekly meeting or a show that takes place in the next few months. Thinking about it now (my way of trying to catch up I guess), I wonder about the relationship between figures, accessories and so forth to game design. Is it a “chicken and egg” kind of process? In other words, does one drive the other? Is it a symbiotic relationship? Is it competitive? Is it simply a matter of local or perhaps larger-level economics? Is it an equation or formula where the answer or product (no pun intended) is always changing because the variables are always changing? It seems that this math-based question takes me back to the initial query about the nature of the relationship between the two. 

Unlike Aaron, at least based on what I’ve read and know or presume to know, I was involved with or introduced to “organized” wargaming prior to attending college (i.e., university). My focus was Airfix unpainted Napoleonics, American Revolution, and American Civil War. I used to have hundreds of these plastic figures. I had battalions of infantry, regiments of cavalry (I even fashioned a unit of lancers using straight pins and hand-made banners), and batteries of artillery. [Brief trip down memory lane: An infantry battalion consisted of 30 to 36 figures, glued to simple cardboard stands or bases. The French Line Infantry units were 36-figures strong and arranged in 6 companies. At a figure scale of 1 plastic figure represented 20 real men, my French Battalions were 720-men strong. As I type these lines, I recall making command stands which included a mounted officer, a musician (i.e., drummer), and a home-made standard bearer. I also recall staging a refight of Austerlitz at one point, enlisting some classmates as player-generals and using every unit I had in my “collection.” Ah, youth.] I made use of basic rules. (It was the mid to late 70s, after all.) If I remember correctly, the author of the multi-period and simple in its approach rule book (compared to the detailed—sometimes overly so—and visually attractive sets available today) was Dick Zimmerman. There was also a healthy dose of WWII gaming, ranging from D-Day to the African desert, to the Eastern Front. This modern or twentieth century period was introduced via a “summer school” like course. The 1/76^th scale models were unpainted and unmounted. All of the battles were waged on a carpeted floor. Sufficed to say, the carpet was not a suitable color for the various scenarios, but we were kids and entertained if not enthralled by the “burden of command,” by the chance to relive, however naively, a piece of history. Dice and rulers/tape measures were used, and the “instructor” employed very simple rules. I recall that you needed to roll a 7 or more on 2d6 to hit. If you had moved your tank, armored car or halftrack, there was a negative modifier so it was harder to hit an enemy tank, halftrack, or bunker. There may have been an “impact” roll or save roll as well. It’s been years. Anyway. Like Aaron, I returned to wargaming after getting a degree. Based on the records I have, it appears that around five or six years elapsed before I became serious enough about the hobby to start writing about it. I won’t repeat my “solo wargamer’s CV” here, but Hal Thinglum accepted and published my first article in the September/October 1993 issue of MWAN (Midwest Wargamers Association Newsletter). My first battle report appeared in the July/August 1995 issue. This was about a rather large and fictional SYW engagement, played with colored counters, using home-grown rules. The narrative, which included detailed orders of battle and eight diagrams or maps, ran to around 10,000 words. Again, anyway. 

A few of the titles mentioned by Aaron and their approaches were familiar. Memory is a tricky thing sometimes, but I think Diplomacy was one of those games from the Avalon Hill stable or catalog. I have a vague recollection of seeing this boardgame (priced at around 12 US dollars then) on a bookshelf at a friend’s house. His father was a serious player of boardgames. I have a better memory of this father and two sons setting up and playing a Market Garden game on a ping-pong table in their basement. The map was that big. The number of counters was quite large, as one might imagine or expect. This familiarity stems from reading about the named product or having the book on one of my shelves presently, as in the case of Professor Phil Sabin’s LOST BATTLES. Given my preference for solo wargaming and given my preference for historical battles or scenarios based on the historical record, most of the titles mentioned and “reviewed” by Aaron were not familiar. Once again, it seems that I have a lot of catching up to do. It seems that I need to make more of an effort to broaden my wargaming horizons or base of knowledge. 

As part of the “research” for this post, I took some time to look back through old issues of Miniature Wargames and other hobby publications. Although I did not find the specific piece of information related to the “op/ed” found in the aforementioned issue of Warning Order (frustrating that), I enjoyed looking through the stored if not very frequently or regularly looked at magazines. In the October 1990 issue of Miniature Wargames, I ran across an article by Clive Harwood entitled “An A-Z of Computer Wargaming.” The author explained that this was an introduction, not a comprehensive treatment of the topic. There are 26 brief sections, arranged —as one might expect— alphabetically. There is also a black and white photo, a screen shot from one of the games available at the time. Obviously, it pales in comparison to the graphics, sound, “chrome” and overall sensory experience that is so prevalent today. (I wonder if at some point, wargamers will employ virtual reality headsets to see the tabletop, to move their virtual miniatures across the terrain and engage the enemy?) In the March 1988 issue, I found three pages (two of pictures and one of text), wherein P. Bold and B. Paine argued “In Defence of the Hex.” I think this ancient article qualifies as or could be categorized as game design, as the authors explain: “We felt that the use of the hex would rationalise movement and ranges as well as avoid the arguments over line-of-sight rules.” 

In the course of my fruitless search for that specific description of card-based wargaming (the initial product was a fantasy-themed game featuring Dwarves, Orcs and such; there was speculation about historical applications), I stumbled upon a very pretty picture of an ancients game in the February 1986 issue. (I may try to take a picture and then upload it and include it with this post, but . . .) The full page photo shows Sassanids attacking Romans. The figures are 25mm Hinchliffe, with a few old Minifigs as well. According to the caption, “The Sassanid army is the one Peter Gilder used to become three-time Society of Ancients champion, and many of the figures are individual conversions.” This may have been a staged photo to accompany the article about “Roman Armoured Cavalry,” written by L. C. Booth. If it was a picture of an actual wargame in progress, the complete absence of dice, rulers or tape measures, coffee mugs, and unit condition markers or casualty caps/rings was very noticeable. 

In the final full paragraph of his post, Aaron equates game design with dance. It’s an apt and interesting analogy. As I was mentally and then physically drafting ideas for this collection of remarks and perhaps a few ideas, I found myself thinking about then singing a few lyrics of that classic Billy Idol song (Dancing with Myself), and thinking about how it might be adopted as an unofficial anthem for solo wargamers. It appears that I am borrowing Aaron’s excellent analogy and applying it or trying to apply it to the larger hobby. I wonder if religion or cooking and its various styles of cuisine might also be employed as analogies for those who are not coordinated at or comfortable with dancing? 

In the final full paragraph of his post, Aaron notes the “explosion of crossover games,” and describes how “young(ish) and crafty designers are not afraid of defying wargame convention . . .” He does not provide a general definition or his personal definition of “wargame convention,” so I am wondering if this is something that I should know, be aware of, or be familiar with, given my long participation in the hobby. To be sure, I am not finding fault with the fellow. I am just trying to weigh the importance of and determine the role of “wargame convention” in my approach to and participation in the hobby, and how “convention” impacts or influences the lives of wargamers, and the various communities that make up the world-wide hobby. I wonder if “defying wargame convention” is something that I am not able to easily define, but would know or recognize when I see it?

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If I read the first paragraph of the “op/ed” found in Warning Order - Issue #60 (again, please see and support if you can, http://www.wfhgs.com/PDFFILES/wo60.pdf; additional issues can be viewed at http://wfhgs.com/wrngorder.html) correctly, it appears that the history or approach to the hobby of historical wargaming has been bicameral. That is to explain, one either used painted miniatures on a model landscape or one used the hexagon maps and colored counters of a boardgame. Continuing the attempted political analogy, there were staunch advocates or lobbyists for each house or side, and there were most likely representatives who were bipartisan in their engagement. Some player-generals (I nearly typed “legislators” but thought better of it) gravitated toward certain committees, while others took a broader interest. In the last three decades of the twentieth century, there may have been a quorum (okay, I’ll cease with the “clever” word play before readers vote to censure or impeach me) of gamers who utilized paper miniatures, “but these were usually role-playing or fantasy enthusiasts.” The first paragraph ends with what appears to be a rhetorical question. It reads: “No one would seriously think about basing and playing with paper miniatures on wargaming tables, now would they?”

I think I was in high school (involuntary shudder at these long-buried and too often awkward memories) when I experimented with Dungeons & Dragons™. I found myself more attracted to skirmishes and battles (I have hazy memories of owning a rule set called Knights & Magic, at least I think that was the title) than to quests and exploring subterranean caverns, chambers and tunnels. I do recall purchasing and using stand-up counters of characters, creatures, and soldiers, etc. The full-color “figure” was printed on the front and back of the counter, and depending on the troop type, was about 1.5 to 3 inches tall. So, yes, by the above classification, I found it easier to play D&D™ with paper or cardboard than play at historical warfare with the same materials. At the risk of repeating myself, I can answer the rhetorical question by pointing to my first published battle report, “The Defense of Mulhernberg,” which appeared in the July/August 1995 issue of MWAN. 

In the second paragraph, an assertion or observation is made about the “insane growth” of the hobby. This opinion appears to reinforce Aaron’s post about the continuing and impressive evolution of game design. This paragraph also provides a very brief history or review of the preponderance of paper figures. Evidently, these are available in a number of scales and varying levels of detail or aesthetic value, and span a dozen or more periods. The second paragraph ends with a suggestion or admission that paper miniatures and armies are “an easy way to try a new period or set of rules, if you hate painting and or the cost of miniatures.” Since the talented Peter Dennis was mentioned by name, I dug through some storage bins to retrieve olds issues of  WARGAMES illustrated®. The May 2015 issue contained an article about paper soldiers titled “Paper Soldiers,” that included reproducible pages of full color troops for wargaming Culloden or similar battles. The article contained assembly instructions, a few sections on rules, and four rather spectacular photographs of paper figures formed up on a tabletop and ready to fight. At the same time, I also retrieved The Wargaming Compendium, by Henry Hyde. On page 194, this well known editor and wargamer offers a table showing the approximate cost for infantry battalions and cavalry regiments based on figure scale. This information was accurate as of March of 2012—approximately a decade ago. I very much doubt it would be the same today, given current world events and situations, which tend to have an impact on world stock markets. The general and very obvious point I am trying to make is this: Traditional historical miniature wargaming is or can be an expensive hobby. 

As luck would have it, in the same issue of WI, in an article titled “Dissecting Blücher,” Wayne Hollands offered his impressions and takes on a new set of Napoleonic rules. What caught my attention was the use of two-dimensional and very attractive cards or counters with which one could play. The close-up examples of cavalry, infantry and artillery cards or counters looked very interesting. (I almost typed “cool,” but caught myself just in time.) The photos of the game being tested and tried were also very interesting. Though I no longer play Napoleonics, I found this format very tempting. I also started thinking, almost immediately, if this kind of system and format or representation could be adapted to other periods of military history. For example, could there at some point be a “Cornwallis” set of rules for the AWI period, a “Cromwell” set for the ECW, a “King Richard III” set for one of the Crusades, and a “Julius Caesar” set for ancient Rome, just to name four well-known historical figures.  

In the four-sentences-long third paragraph, the author talks about how some gamers who use paper figures will go to great lengths, so that the paper battalions or units look remarkably like their lead or plastic brothers in arms. He also mentions the “across the spectrum” set ups that he has seen. I found it somewhat interesting that paper miniatures were equated to traditional miniatures in that, “You get what you pay for and or invest your time in.” This last sentence gave me pause. Recently, I completed a very enjoyable and engaging solo wargame wherein Spartans did battle with Vikings. Yes, yes . . . it was ahistorical. And yes, paper or colored counters were substituted for traditional miniatures. The terrain was functional; it was not fantastic looking. The anonymous gentleman who penned this “op/ed” would probably not approve or he would probably remark that my approach could “use some work.” I wonder . . . does that last sentence about getting what you pay for and invest your time in have a single, that is universal meaning? 

In the first sentence of the fourth and last paragraph, the following question is asked: “Where do paper miniatures fit in today’s hobby?” As a former educator, my students would never really like it when I answered one of their many questions with a question of my own. So, to continue that pupil-annoying habit, I would pose the following query: “Why do we need to know where paper miniatures fit in today’s hobby?” In the second sentence, an opinion is offered about “gamers being a bit more open to the idea than they were a few years ago.” This made me think about my educational experience with Henry Hyde when he was editor of Battlegames magazine. [1] I also took a few minutes to reflect on my submissions to other publications and then on starting and trying to maintain a blog. Then I started wondering if I might be a little bit like those young(ish) and crafty designers mentioned by Aaron . . . Am I “defying wargame convention” by not using lead or plastic miniatures? If it turns out that I am defying convention, what is my purpose or the point I am trying to make, and, do I really care? Should I care?

Perhaps I am reading too much into this last paragraph. Perhaps I am trying to fit these sentences or parts of sentences into my “argument” or “position.” The author uses the word “open” twice. Could this mean that wargamers, being a part of the larger community or society, are becoming, perhaps, by inches, feet, or some other measurement, more inclusive, understanding, and accepting? I don’t know. Further data and additional information needs to be gathered and then analyzed. More questions need to be asked. There is reference to the myriad options available, and there is a note of concern, perhaps, about this approach to or participation in the hobby gaining traction. While it can certainly be confusing if not overwhelming to have so many choices (here, I am thinking about that terrific scene in the movie “The Hurt Locker,” when the bomb disposal expert is standing in the cereal aisle at the grocery store), I think it’s better to have more choices than just two or three. I am not sure what to make of the “traction” concern. I have not been using traditional miniatures since 1995. I stipulate that my wargaming “career,” “trajectory,” or “path” has been a little unusual and will likely remain so. Instead of graduating from unpainted plastics to painted lead (or tin/pewter or better-quality plastics), I decided to pursue a two-dimensional approach. I employ counters, like one might use in a boardgame, but my counters look nothing like the playing pieces found in these attractive as well as sturdy and nowadays comparatively expensive boxes or cases. I employ rules written expressly for miniatures, but do not bother with the miniatures. So, my approach or gaming is something like a hybrid maybe? Then again, I wonder why it should be so important to categorize, define or label my particular approach or method of playing at war?

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I don’t know if Phil Halewood is still with us or is still participating in the hobby, and I don’t want to appear sycophantic, but having read and annotated his Guardroom letter printed in the July 1999 issue of Slingshot, I think he would be/make an excellent friend or mentor as well as be/make a challenging opponent across the tabletop. In the second paragraph of his rather long but well-written if not well-reasoned letter, Phil offers an extreme example of playing with “ballbearing laden Britains’ rubber-band powered catapults and matchstick dispensing holt throwers determining the outcome of their battles . . .” The point he makes though, is, I think important. He argues that this method of wargaming “is their choice not ours,” and that these same folks “should appreciate that some people might want more from that from a game.” I heartily agree that one’s method of wargaming is a choice. Obviously, it might be inspired or swayed by what others have done, but it remains the “property” of the individual gamer. I also agree with the statement about some folks wanting more from a game. I wonder though, shouldn’t the appreciation or acknowledgement and understanding also go in the other direction? 

In the third and fourth paragraphs, he offers a couple of analogies about wargaming. The first is work-oriented, the second is life-oriented. While I found the first completely relatable as well as humorous, the second analogy was, I think, more powerful. I hope I don’t error in my attempt to transcribe Phil’s thinking and words. He compares wargaming or how we pursue wargaming to “traveling a road.” Obviously, as we are all different, our rate of travel, our mode of travel, and direction, etc., will vary and be influenced by any number of variables. (Then again, broadly speaking, there may be similarities within a group or sub-group, such as those historical wargamers who have a shared as well as significant interest in The War of the Roses, for example.) Phil points out that the only commonality is ”that we start the journey and we finish it.” He then comments on the impact of marketing, product development, and game design, dividing wargamers into three necessarily broad categories. First, there are the “dinosaurs,” gamers who never move past a particular period or set of rules. Their attachment and dedication is admirable, but one has to ask if they have missed out on other things while harvesting the pleasures and successes of their focused efforts. I have heard it said that change is constant/is a constant. However, I have also heard it said that no one really likes change. Then there are those at the other end of the spectrum. I guess these wargamers could be called “progressives” as “non-dinosaurs” has a rather clunky if not silly ring to it. My guess is that these types enjoy the “buffet” of new products, be they figures, rules, terrain, or whatever. These enthusiasts are all about trying new things. They are all about seeing “what’s further down the road,” to use Phil’s analogy. At the risk of making a bad pun, I might say that these gamers are driven. Between these two “extremes” is, of course, a fairly wide expanse of middle ground or highway, where, to attempt to paraphrase Phil’s words again, “we find a rest stop, where we can enjoy a product or products that have been considered and spend some time stretching our legs by having some fun before we decide to get back in the car (or back on the bike, or even  some mode of public transportation) and resume the road trip.” 

Phil admits that he “doesn’t know quite where he is on this journey.” From the details he provides, his route started with “WRG 4^th and progressed through Legion, WRG 5^th, Shock of Impact, writing his own rules, and then to DBA.” He explains that, “I am happy with my wargaming and related activities.” He makes a point of stating that he and his wargaming buddies do not use WHAB (Warhammer Ancient Battles). [Sidebar: In the first paragraph of his long letter, Phil references “the recent WHAB bashing frenzy,” and remarks upon the tendency to “lash out at anything which might signal innovation or that challenges the status quo.” He wonders if this reaction is because “WHAB may hark back to an era when rules were less complex but, some might argue, one in which they were more fun.”]

The analogy put forward by Phil is very good and it did get me to thinking about where I am on this particular path, about where I am on this journey. Initially, I am tempted to place myself in Phil’s camp and admit that I am not sure where I currently am. (Stupid GPS is on the blink!) Given that I started out “designing” and using counters instead of miniatures and have continued to do so, I guess that qualifies me as a “dinosaur.” I have purchased and used many rulebooks over the decades, but find that I tend to employ just a few on a regular basis. I have wargamed in many periods over the decades as well, but have, at least for the last 10 years or so, concentrated on the ancient and medieval eras. With the exception of going to a wargames convention perhaps a total of a dozen times in the past 30-35 years, the vast majority of my gaming has been solo. 

I am no actuary, but I would—given advances in healthcare and given the clean (some might remark boring) life I try to live (at least four days a week at the gym, no red meat, no smoking, and drink only on the very rare occasion)—estimate that I have, maybe, somewhere in the neighborhood of 30 years left. An optimistic estimate has me continuing to wargame, in some way or another, for the next 20 years. If I am able to set up, play, and write about half-a-dozen games per year, and perhaps even attend a few more conventions, simple multiplication gives me 120 more games (approximately) before I come to the end of that road so aptly described by Phil. 

Nearly a quarter of a century has past since Phil Halewood wrote his letter for the Guardroom of Slingshot. I did not find this letter until very recently. I guess this might be one of those instances when the phrase “better late than never” applies. Thus far (this is the first draft of this section and will be subjected to several reviews and edits), I have typed over 900 words about Phil’s letter. I am nearly finished with my remarks. On reading and re-reading and then annotating this particular piece of correspondence, I could not help but think about and wonder about the state of the general hobby as well as its dozens if not hundreds of specific niches. I also could not help but wonder about what that state or those states will be when 25 more years have passed. In fact, it’s interesting (at least I think so) to wonder what the hobby will look like, will be like in 2072. To return briefly to Aaron’s post, I rephrase his assessment as a question: In 2047, will the number of wargaming and game design possibilities be as numerous? Will they reach a plateau? Will they decline? Will the “wargame market” look like the stock market? The same questions can be posed for 50 years from today. I won’t be around in the year 2072, unless, somehow, I make it to 107, so I should not really care. However, I maintain that it’s an interesting topic to think about and discuss, at least in some circles. 

At one point in his letter, Phil talks about the proliferation of rules and connects the diversity of new rules and dedication of rule writers to the improved health of the hobby as opposed to its decline. Here is where I made another connection to Aaron’s comments and observations about the game design, and its chronology as well as direction or directions. 

Near the end of his correspondence, Phil makes the following statement: “What we are hopefully engaged in, both individually and as a loosely bound group, is the enjoyable search for knowledge and mental stimulation.” Though the context of this statement was geared toward wargamers with a particular interest in the ancient era(s), I think it is more of a definition that can be applied to wargamers of all shapes, sizes, colors, ages, and gender. The gentleman continues, noting that there “might be members who disagree [with the quoted statement] but that’s OK so long as they don’t try to ram their views down our throats or let vitriol damage . . . the development and future of our hobby.” [Sidebar: Early in the morning of the day I wrote this section, I happened to check out Big Lee’s wargaming blog. How coincidental or convenient that his short video post would be all about wargaming etiquette. Then again, from another perspective, it strikes me as kind of sad or indicative of something that Big Lee would even have to post something about wargaming etiquette. (Please see the October 2, 2022, post at http://www.blmablog.com.) Admittedly, it’s not a direct connection to the subject matter at hand, but it certainly is related to Phil’s general point.] Then, in the second-to-last paragraph, Phil returns to his road analogy and explains how much he dislikes “being told that certain parts of the road on which he is traveling are out of bounds or represent a ‘dangerous’ place to tread.” I quite agree with him. However, if I take the time to reflect and remember, I think I’ve seen examples of just this behavior, mind set, or philosophy at the conventions I’ve attended. With the introduction and development of dozens of wargaming forums on the Internet, I regret to say that I’ve seen examples of this behavior and mind set in these electronic environments as well. 

The first sentence of the last paragraph in Phil’s letter reads: “Perhaps the perceived backlash against WHAB and what it supposedly represents or heralds is prompted by the tacit acknowledgement that what we all indulge in is really fantasy gaming by another name?” I cannot comment on the “perceived backlash” situation as I was not even aware of The Society of Ancients in 1999. [Note: The first battle report I wrote for Slingshot was accepted then published in the January 2010 issue. I did not become a paying member of The Society until September of 2013. For roughly seven years, I was a rather productive member of this august and long-standing organization, having the pleasure and privilege of contributing articles and other pieces of writing (though not consecutively) from Issue 295 to Issue 332. However and unfortunately, when my submissions were no longer accepted by the editor, and when the journal went in another direction under new leadership (as often is the case), the personal as well as prudent decision was made to let my subscription to the journal lapse and quietly exit the membership rolls. Anyway.] I do recall having the referenced rulebook and one or two supplements. I think I played a few games with them. A few years later, I sold them on TMP and moved on. The suggestion that historical wargaming is really fantasy wargaming or a sub-type of fantasy gaming is interesting rather than offensive, I think. I guess it depends on context and the definition of terms. It seems to be a question of categories or labels as well. In my own case, I am a solo wargamer. I do not have a ready opponent or “group of mates” down at the club with whom I “shoot the breeze” or “have a cuppa with” while commanding a miniature army in this or that period of military history. While there was a brief period when I was involved with Dungeons & Dragons™, I have spent the vast majority of my solo wargaming “career” playing at war in documented, identified, recognized, and studied periods of military history. So, on the one hand, what I do is not fantasy gaming. On the other hand, I do pretend that my colored counters are or stand in for representations of actual bodies of troops. In writing up my battle reports, I often try to paint a picture for the reader by saying something about “donning my armor and getting on my horse, etc.” To be sure, I do not actually do that or believe that I am doing that. This “verbal painting” is just a device; it’s just something to help make the readers feel like they are or were a part of my solo wargame. (It could also be a form of compensation, since my wargames look nothing at all like those played by Rick Priestley, or Simon Miller, or other notables in the hobby.) Looking back over this paragraph or section, I wonder if I am spending too much electronic ink and time on the question. In many respects, categories, definitions and labels can be very helpful. They can assist one in figuring things out, in making sense of something. At the same time, categories, definitions and labels can sometimes be restrictive if also subjective. If pressured on this topic, if asked to explain what my hobby is and where I “fit,” I would reply: I am a wargamer. If that was not satisfactory, then I could start peeling away the layers and say that I was a solo wargamer or perhaps even solo historical wargamer who concentrates on the ancient and medieval eras (3000 BC to 1500 AD or CE), but would sometimes, though not very often, venture into the sixteenth and seventeenth centuries. 

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Phil Halewood ended his Guardroom letter with this sentence: “Food for thought I hope.” 

Extending the metaphor, I might remark that his correspondence, Aaron’s blog post, and the short “op/ed” about paper miniatures constitute a three-course meal created by master chefs. This admittedly long and perhaps even rambling post represents my attempt to digest these excellent offerings. Then again, maybe my remarks offer more food for thought, turning the various ideas, statements and thoughts into, perhaps, a “sit-down affair” consisting of several courses: appetizer, salad, entree, and dessert. 

Aaron concludes his well-written post on a positive note, exclaiming that it’s a great time to be a wargamer because of the advances in game design and the many possibilities afforded by this. While I certainly applaud and appreciate his optimism, I cannot honestly say that I feel the same way. Without going into great personal detail (I want my blog to be about wargaming and nothing else), the past three years have been rather difficult. The rest of this year and the next is quite uncertain, which is justifiable cause for stress and worry. [Sidebar: To be certain, there are those who are much worse off than I am. For just a few examples: There is the ongoing war in Ukraine; there have been devastating hurricanes in Puerto Rico and Florida; there are shootings every week in the city of Chicago; there might be a recession, and the foundation of democratic principles and beliefs seems to be under serious attack. Let us not forget the terrific irony of children living in poverty in a very powerful and comparatively wealthy nation. The news reminds me of this state of affairs everyday. However, these much greater levels of societal challenges, difficulties and suffering do not make me feel better. How could they? Perhaps I should stop listening to the news . . .] There have been a couple of instances—one fairly recent, actually—where I had to step away, where I thought it would be best for me to step away from the hobby. Anyway, okay . . . enough of that. As my focus has been and continues to be solo wargaming in the ancient/medieval periods, it seems that I won’t pay all that much attention to or be significantly impacted by game design and the great number of possibilities.  

Turning to the “op/ed” about paper soldiers or miniatures, I confess I don’t really feel qualified to answer most of the questions that were raised. However, I do wonder about the importance of these questions in relation to my and others continued involvement in the hobby. I cannot say for certain that I “hate” painting as I have not really tried it. I do think though, that at this stage or age, to take up painting miniatures would be rather foolish as well as unproductive, to say nothing of costly. Painting landscapes and the odd bowl of fruit, maybe, but a 36 or 48-figure phalanx of 15mm or 28mm scale Macedonian pikemen? I don’t think so. I am aware of the “newer” plexiglass “flats” that come in 18mm and 28mm scales and cover a range of periods. (Please see the following links: https://wofun-games.com/?gclid=EAIaIQobChMIvsGz6t3q-gIVfMmUCR3jbwB8EAAYASAAEgJA5vD_BwE, https://wofun-games.com/index.php?route=product/product&product_id=1297, and for one review out of many related sites, https://daleswargames.blogspot.com/2021/11/review-of-wofun-miniatures.html.)  These “flats” do offer an interesting and less expensive option, but the basing seems problematic or restrictive. Not that I would refuse to command an army of them if I had the chance at some future wargaming convention. Then again, I do find myself attracted to and intrigued by the possibilities of 2mm figures (can they even be called figures at this scale?) and that new set of rules, Strength & Honour. More realistically, I do suppose that it would not be a tremendous strain on my finances to invest in two, three, or even five 15mm scale 12-element DBA armies. Then again, there is the time investment to consider, the fact that I am comfortable wargaming without traditional miniatures, and then what I presume will be an eventual feeling of “being trapped” or “restricted,” as two, three, or five 12-element armies would not give me much to work with. How would I employ these miniature armies if one month I wanted to do something with chariots, the next month saw me wondering about legionaries and German barbarians, and then the month after that, I found myself drawn to The Hundred Years War? I suppose I could simply designate my 15mm “army” of Sea Peoples as Romans or medieval French, but . . .

At the risk of repeating myself, I like, very much, the analogy employed by Phil in his Guardroom letter. In fact, I liked everything he had to say. He seems to have reached a point where his principles are in line with his practice (or practise). In several ways, I believe I can identify with his experiences and position. In many respects, I think his letter and its message is timeless. Unlike Phil, at least back in 1999, I think I have a pretty good idea of where I am on this journey. As I type this, I have plans to set up a second of four planned wargames wherein Early Franks will be involved. The report on this engagement, these engagements, will eventually appear on my blog, which I would like to keep going. But I have to recognize and accept that some things are out of my control, so we shall see. A few years ago, I would not have guessed that I would be blogging about my wargaming activities. A few years ago, I would not have guessed that, for a variety of reasons, I would no longer be submitting material to traditional publications. A few weeks ago, I would not have guessed that I would be sitting down to type approximately 7,500 words about my reactions to and thoughts regarding three different pieces of writing about the wide, wonderful and wonderfully different world of wargaming. 

Viewed through the lens of the analogy provided by Phil Halewood, up to this point, it certainly has been a long, interesting, albeit sometimes problematic, but also very rewarding journey. 

Notes

1. Henry Hyde was kind enough to accept and then publish my battle report, “Videbo vos in litore” (roughly translated as “I’ll See You on the Beach!”), in Issue 371 of Miniature Wargames with Battlegames. The response, at least as far as I know, wasn’t voluminous, but the piece did generate/receive a few comments. They are copied and pasted here. 

On February 22, 2014, JAird posted this (I believe it was on the Lone Warrior site):

For those who may not yet have seen the new issue of MW with Battlegames—there’s a 

very good article by Chris Hahn on using the “Hail Caesar” rules to fight a Roman “D-

Day landing” scenario, as part of the invasion of Britain. It’s excellent stuff—well done, 

Chris! And Henry Hyde (editor of MW&B) should also be congratulated for printing an 

article that is not only about solo wargaming but which contains photos of Chris’ game 

in progress with no model soldiers or fancy terrain. This is a (welcome) departure for the 

mainstream hobby press which is usually disdainful of niche interests (like solo games) 

and obessed [sic] with expensive figures & terrain. I’m sure it will stimulate debate, 

which again is welcome. 

On March 6,2014, Jeff Chorney offered (I think this was also from Lone Warrior):

Hey Chris, Way to go! It’s good to see that Wargaming doesn’t have to be all about eye 

candy all the time and that an article can be presented by a soloist which will generate 

lots of conversation especially with people who appreciate strategy and tactics with 

historical accuracy.

On March 14, 2014, ubercommando posted this on TMP:

VIDEBO VOS IN LITORE: Chris Hahn wargames solo and without miniatures. If you 

can wrap your head around that then what follows is a kind of Roman version of 

Omaha Beach (or Juno Beach, as he describes it). Rules for ancient amphibious landings 

follow and then a battle report, which is a bit too long in my opinion but the setting and 

game are unusual and interesting.