Saturday, 25 October 2008

Passing Out

Its a 'big grin' day here with the Dragoons finally being completed. Even the arrival of a copy of 'The Wargame Companion' was insufficient to halt the final stages. Referring to the book, I must say that the revelations about a certain Brigadier's nocturnal activities on page 63 was something of a shock. I shall not reveal the details, but how the press never got to hear of it is beyond comprehension (buy the book if you want to know more).

My Dragoon regiment follows the organisation given in Charge! with the exception that I have given the standard to a separate figure rather than having one of the squadron commanders bear it. This gives me the excuse to avoid painting a musician with all his inevitable intricate finery.

DR8 - Suren Riders On Stadden Horses

This is the first cavalry regiment that I have gotten up to full strength (at least in Charge! terms). It does seem to me to represent a lot of effort, but I am happy that it has been worth it. We come down to the simple fact that having been soaked with the values laid down in Charge! when I was a teenager, even now at the supposedly mature age of 50 I cannot really settle for anything less.

A Wargamers View of DR8

In my particular scheme of things, the figures mounted on circular bases are purely eye candy. Only the figures on rectangular bases fight and define the position of the regiment. The eye candy can be moved around to provide scenic effect - just as can be seen in the refights in Charge!

Monday, 20 October 2008

Dragoons (Almost)

Dragoon squadron commander and standard bearer (Suren riders on Stadden horses).

Today's rather embarrassing photo puts me in mind of a passage in Shaw's "Saint Joan".

DUNOIS: Not a man will follow you.

JOAN: I will not look back to see whether anyone is following me.

I had hoped to show a photo of my regiment of Dragoons, complete and basking in the full glory of a Charge-style cavalry regiment. But all I can do is put up a shot of one slightly bemused squadron commander, accompanied by a standard-bearer, wondering where his men have disappeared to.

Neuro-surgeons may understand some of the details of how the brain works. But I suspect that none of them would be able to explain how that part of my brain storing the fact that 'those dragoons need their muskets adding' chose to remain dormant until today. Inevitably, these dozy neurons chose to fire just after the critical moment: when the dragoons had been varnished. It would, perhaps, be unscientific to attribute all this to the sheer bloody-mindedness of the world in general.

Hopefully in a few days time I will be able to show the completed regiment and wax lyrical about the thing. Until then I shall be wondering about what else is lurking forgotten in the dark recesses of my mind.