Monday, July 16, 2007

Polikarpov Down! - A Wargame Report

Saturday, July 14th was an agreeably silly evening in the wargames basement of James (CinC Hotlead ) Manto's Townhouse of Solitude. Dan Hutter offered one of his trademark shoot-em up games, using one of his typically simply, vicious, homebrew rules. James and my daugher Anna took the Finns, while Lorenzo "Weirdo" Gionet, Barry "Bolshevik" Holden and I took the Russkies.

There are strange things done, 'neath the Arctic Sun,
By the soldiers of the Kremlin;
With frosty toe, and ice-jammed gun,
They fight and die for Stalin.
The northern lights have seen many a strange sight,
But the strangest they ever did see,
Was far from the Volga, on Lake Ladoga,
When a crashed plane made men fight. (With apologies to Robert Service)

The scenario: Comrade Pilot Yuri Nator (blame Dan), a Hero of the Soviet Union and nephew of Air Marshall Puttputtski, a friend of Stalin, was flying his Polikarpov scout plane over Finnish lines on the northen edge of Lake Ladoga to take pictures of enemy positions prior to a new Russian offensive. Yuri was a little nervous, as he'd used the squadron's only camera to take some pictures of Naughty Nadia on his last leave to St. Petersburg, but hopefully there would still be room on the film for some pictures of tedious Finnish trenchlines. Suddenly a snow storm closed in as Yuri's engine lost power. He headed south for home, only to crash land on the frozen lake between the lines, knocking himself cold in the crash.



Unfortunately for Yuri, a Finnish messenger with his pack reindeer watched the crash and made his way back to HQ to report.

The Finnish commander, who had watched the pesky Polikarpov observing his positions before the snow came in, ordered his men to go out onto the ice and recover the camera. Possibly there would be valuable intelligence to be gained. Meanwhile, the Soviet CO, reminded by his Commissar that Comrade Pilot Yuri was a protege of Comrade Stalin, dispatched all available troops and two light tanks. Thus, a reinforced Finnish and Soviet platoon converged on the downed plane. Who would be first?

Under Dan's rules, the Finns were faster and better shots, which was pretty much in accord with the Red Army's abysmal performance in Finland. The Reds had more troops, and two light T-26 tanks. Variable visibility as the snowstorm raged meant that the near-complete lack of cover on the frozen lake would be slightly offset. Both sides also drew several cards (another Dan Hutter feature), allowing good things to happen when we needed them. Here's the scene from the Russian lines as the lead elements converged on the plane.


The Finns took advantage of the island on the right to set up a light machine gun team, while on second island to the left (not showin in picture) they set up an anti-tank rifle and rifle team to cover their troops approaching the plane. The Reds had nothing for it but to use their numbers to rush forward. Here you can see a mortar team (inexplicably among the fastest troops in the Red force that day) and a rifle section heading for the plane.


At this point the Reds got lucky and played their best card. One of Comrade Yuri's wingman, circling above in the snow, saw a break in the cloud and passed over the crash site, strafing the line of Finnish troops approaching the plane. Caught by surprise, the Finns had no time to take cover and two riflemen fell to the hail of bullets. Looking past the plane towards the south, the Finns saw more Russians shaking themselves out into skirmish line. A firefight now began at the edges of visibility. The Soviet mortar dropped a bomb a hundred yards behind the Finns, opening a hole in the ice, visible in the picture below, and another precious Finnish rifleman fell.


Grimly the Finns set to work, knowing that they had only minutes. The commmand group and the surviving members of the rifle team took shelter behind the fuselage of the plane while the sergeant and a trooper smashed Yuri's canopy with their rifle butts. Comrade Pilot Yuri stirred as glass fell onto him, dreaming of Svetlana from Minsk.


Major Boris Badinov, the Red CO, cursed as he watched the Finns climb onto the wing and urged his men to keep firing. One of the capitalist lackeys was shot off the plane, but the next second disaster struck. The Finnish LMG team on the island to the right opened up, annihilating Badinov, his Commissar, and 2IC, leaving only the Soviet standard bearer standing with a light wound.


It's not clear if the Soviets stopped in dismay or stopped to cheer as their CO and hated Commissar fell to the gory ice, but the delay allowed the Finns to pull Yuri and his precious camera from the cockpit. "Not now, Svetlana, I'm too tired", Yuri groaned. With a loud "Urrah" the Soviet scout section raced forward and reached the plane, but a fusilade from the Finnish CO's submachine gun kept their heads down and prevented them from preventing Yuri's extraction.


It was looking as if the Finns might get away with it. The Soviet tanks had proved much slower than Comrade Lorenzo and I had expected, and we had stupidly put our own LMG team with them in a little sleigh trailer (bad frostbite meant they had trouble walking) so our own LMG was out of action for most of the game. To make matters worse, the Finns retaliated for our airstrike by playing cards of their own, and patches of thin ice suddenly appeared, delaying our armour support.


"We've got the flyboy, let's get the hell out of Dodgesinki!" shouted the Finnish CO. The Finns withdrew, dragging Yuri, whose head bumped repeately on the frozen lake ice. From the treeline to the left, their comrades opened up a covering fire, dropping several of the Soviets who hastened up to the plane to support the comrade scouts. Meanwhile, one of the T26s opened up, raking the island to the right with MG fire and urging the Finns there to retire as well.




"After them, they're getting away with the Comrade Aviator!" shouted the Deputy Commissar, Ivan Notgoodinov. Perhaps it was his promise of vodka that allowed the surviving Russians to follow the Finns towards their treeline. Russian shooting was surprisingly good, dropping several of the Finns lugging Yuri. "Why don't we just shoot the Red swine?" one of them asked, but the Finnish CO urged them on.



Meanwhile the Finnish AT rifle opened up and hit the lead T26, whose armour barely held. However the crew was mightily distracted as rivets flew around their compartment, and did nothig mor of note in the fight. After hitting with the ATR my daughter Anna tried her hand with the mortar, rolling two on 2d6, which was what she needed to hit. The round fell in the middle of the Red LMG team that had disembarked from their sleigh and hobbled forward on their frostbitten feet. We then discovered that because of the blowing snow Anna was several inches out of range, but as she had traveled the farthest (from Nanaimo, BC) to play and as a "2" on 2d6 should never be wasted, we allowed the hit and the LMG team were all wounded and out of the fight. Note to self - in future give Anna the support weapons.

At this point, poor Yuri finally woke up. He lifted his head, murmuring in a weak voice, "Svetlana, darlink, would you put the samovar on, there's a ninotchka?" The Finnish sergeant hauling on one his legs looked back at this, and Yuri wondered why he was looking into a sweaty, hairy face, when a stray Moisin Nagant round entered the back of Yuri's skull and he expired heroically. The Finnish sergeant shrugged, grabbed the camera, abandoned the pilot's corpse and ran like hell for the treeline.



At 11pm, that made for a neat ending to the game. The Finns had suffered terrible casualties, but they had recovered the camera, even if denied the chance to interrogate Yuri. The Russian offensive would be delayed until the weather cleared and another photorecon mission could be launched, but at least Stalin would have a show funeral of a heroic aviator to put on the front page of Pravda. Back at the aerodrome, Yuri's CO took the news philosophically. "Knowing that git, he probably left the lens cap on anyway."

A Finnish victory, but everyone had fun, as is the course with Dan's games. And the best part of it was that Anna and I got to wear silly hats, another trademark of Dan's games.


There are strange things done, 'neath the Arctic Sun,
By the Reds sent out by the Kremlin;
With frosty toe, and ice-jammed gun,
They fight and die for Stalin.
The northern lights have seen many a strange sight,
But the strangest they ever did see,
Was far from the Volga, on Lake Ladoga,
When a crashed plane made men fight. (With apologies to Robert Service)

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