What proceeds is the first engagement in a larger flow-chart narrative where every strategic outcome of the forces involved will impact future battles. This will create a world within each battle that will impact the ways in which miniatures are utilized. Join me for this cinematic and emotionally charged experience.
It is D-Day+2 and elements of Britain's No. 47 Royal Marine Commando are ashore after a bitter start to the invasion of Europe.
The approach to Gold Beach was mired with traps and explosives which damaged four landing craft and sank one more causing numerous casualties. Their target was the coastal town of Port-en-Bessin, whose strategic significance could support the flow of much needed fuel from the UK to mainland Europe. The fight for Port-en-Bessin was brutal and drained No. 47 of valuable officers and fighting men, but the highly trained force of commandos rid the town of its German occupiers. Now, the men of No. 47 are taking some well deserved rest, while the Tommies advance forward from the beaches.
What remains of R Troop, which due to casualties mostly consists of the men of No. 4 Section, is under the command of Lt. H.E. Armstrong. Armstrong was revered by his cadre before they crossed the Channel. His leadership in Port-en-Bessin, when things got especially hairy, now only amplify his standing with the men.
R Troop rests peacefully in the small commune of Huppain, just west of Port-en-Bessin. Recognizing the strain his men have been under, and the god-honest truth that bully beef was no longer cutting it, Armstrong orders Sgt. Remy Hamilton and members of his sub-section on a good old fashioned hunt.
"Our chaps should have the Fritz on his backside by now. See what you and the boys can scrounge up for us, eh?", chimes Armstrong.
The brawny East Ender is all too happy to oblige. The last 48 hours had been hell.
"With pleasure, sir."
Sgt. Hall, LCpl Dawes, and Marines Sessions, Foster, and Clyde depart Huppain in search of wooded area where game may have sought shelter from the battles of D-Day.
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| God help the poor animal on the business end of Sgt. Hall's Thompson L-R: Mne Foster, Mne Sessions, Sgt. Hall, Mne Clyde, LCpl Dawes |
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| With rifles at the ready, the hunting party moves through the thick brush. |
"Sounds like a proper fat one," exclaims the hungry Marine.
Sgt. Hall quickly grabs Clyde by his rucksack and pulls him back. Something far deadlier lies in the distance.
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| "Slow your step, lad. Jerry's ahead" |
"The Lieutenant said we was clear 'a Jerries. You 'eard 'em Sergeant," exclaims Sessions.
"Aye," mumbles Hall.
Hall can see three Germans milling around what looks like an old hunting shack.
"There ain't nuffin' wurf defendin in these woods and this ain't a traveled enough route to set up an ambush. They must be a reconnaissance detail."
"We ain't gotta take 'em, do we Sergeant?" asks Clyde.
Hall removes his green beret and runs his hand through a mess of black hair. He'd lost five good mates in the last two days. Saw his friend Richie Conborough ripped apart by German AA guns during the assault on Port-en-Bessin. Three, four, even five Germans shouldn't be a problem for the commandos, but was this engagement really worth it?
"We ain't in the business of lettin' this sort of thing go by. We're hittin' them because if we don't, then they'll hit us back. Dawes, you take Clyde and Foster and hug that tree line on their left flank. Jerry comes out of that shack, you give him his. Sessions, you and me is gonna take the right flank and see what's cracker jack in the shack. Got it?"
The Marines regain their composure, internalize Hall's orders, and move out.
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| Dawes, Clyde, and Foster approach the left flank while Hall and Sessions advance up the right. |
Dawes, Clyde, and Foster scout out a perfect position on the right flank from which they can provide a base of fire should any Germans try and ditch the shack. Hall and Sessions creep cautiously towards the cover of forest.
The Germans, still unaware of the commandos presence, patrol the area. Their movements don't seem to startle Hall or his men. One soldat, however, wanders into the woods by the shack where Dawes, Clyde, and Foster hope to set up a base of fire.
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| It's pretty, but it ain't Hürtgen! |
Hall and Sessions make it to cover by the shack's right flank, unnoticed by the Germans patrolling the rear.
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| "Sessions, coast is clear. Move up to the shack and cover me," whispers Hall. |
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| "Easier than a Sunday walk in Regent's Park, Sergeant!" |
Call it carelessness. Call it bad luck. Call it whatever you want. But Sessions is immediately observed by the wandering soldat who had positioned himself in the woods.
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| "Halt Englander!" |
Sessions freezes in his tracks. He'd seen Germans before, but this was the closest he'd ever been one that was breathing.
The young Marine from Islington thought of his parents, his sisters, beautiful Annie Falmouth who tended bar at The Admiral's Wheelhouse on Dunberry Street. Was two years in service of Queen and Country all for this? And where the hell were Dawes, Foster, and Clyde?
Hall, too, sees the German emerge, but he can't react quick enough. The soldat raises his rifle. It's a clear shot. Point blank range. No obstructions. This could be the German's first kill or his hundredth kill. Either way, it is too easy.
Sessions closes his eyes, bracing for the impact of the bullet.
But none occurs. Not even a gunshot. Just a very angry German trying to unjam a clearly deficient Kar-98.
"Rush the bugger!" urges Hall.
Without hesitation, Sessions plunges towards the soldat to engage at close quarters. The two scuffle briefly, but Session's commando training kicks in allowing him to dispatch his enemy with ease and without notice from the other Germans nearby.
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| "Saw my life flash before my eyes, Sergeant." |
Hall moves up to the shack, relived to see his man alive.
"To the victor, the spoils. Keep an eye out here while I'm inside mate," says Hall.
And with that, Hall and his Thompson enter the shack.
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| "Pardon me, lads." |
Hall's Thompson sprays the inside of the shack with reckless abandon. The Germans inside, an NCO and his radio operator, had been too busy comparing shoe laces to notice the scuffle occurring outside. Their distraction would be their downfall. Both are killed immediately. Their war is over.
At this point, the other Germans in the area were now alerted to the presence of an enemy force. Knowing that their unit was not an attack force, the Germans decide it would be most advantageous to retreat and notify the larger force of the Allied presence in the area.
"Sergeant, I've got a runner out 'ere!" yells Sessions.
"Quit talkin and shoot the bloody bastard!" responds Hall.
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| "Roger that." |
Another soldat is observed retreating to the North East of the map, but neither Hall nor Sessions are able to maneuver to take him out. Even one German escaping from them would surely be enough to prompt a counter-attack from the Germans on Port-en-Bessin.
"Have no fear, Derby's here!", shouts LCpl Dawes who emerges from the woods with Marines Foster and Clyde.
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| "Got the Hun in our sights." |
The three rifles rip into the fleeing German, bringing him down and eliminating any chance of notifying his comrades.
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| "Stopped for petrol on the way, did ya Dawes?" |
"Proper intel on these boys, eh Sergeant," asks Clyde, waving maps and notations from the dead NCO over his head.
"I suppose Lt. Armstrong will be wantin' a look at these. Analysis punches a bit above our grade."
Hall takes the documents from Clyde and tucks them inside his jacket.
"Boys done well today. But we still got us a hunt to get on with. Lotta hungry commandos back in town."
Hall's men chuckle. A quick jaunt with the Germans won't be a good enough excuse for showing up empty-handed.
Rules: Black Ops by Osprey (Solo)
Miniatures: Warlord Games 28mm
Love it!!!
ReplyDeleteReally cinematic!!
Really enjoyed this scenario, and look forward to seeing more!
ReplyDelete