Battle Report: The Bells of Saint-Martin

Normandy, France — August 1944

The crossroads at Saint-Martin had once been the heart of a quiet Norman village. Four narrow roads met around a small cobbled square, where a stone fountain stood beside a row of shops and a shuttered café. A bakery occupied the corner of the eastern road, its windows shattered and its roof blackened by recent shellfire. Beyond the last houses, fields of waist-high grass stretched towards the hedgerows, offering little shelter to anyone foolish enough to cross them under fire.

By August 1944, the village had become another obstacle in the American advance through Normandy. German forces were retreating westwards, but they were determined to make every crossroads, bridge and village cost the Allies time and lives. A small German rearguard had occupied Saint-Martin, establishing machine-gun positions among the buildings and preparing to destroy the crossroads rather than surrender it intact.

For the Americans of the 3rd Platoon, Easy Company, the orders were straightforward: take the square, secure the roads and prevent the Germans from carrying out their demolition. Their commander, Lieutenant Chad Chaddington, had assured his men that this would be a quick operation.

Across the square, Oberleutnant Heinz Von Fieldkraften had rather different plans. He intended to delay the Americans, destroy the supplies accumulated near the crossroads and withdraw before his small command was overwhelmed. With a handful of infantrymen, a machine-gun team and a Hanomag armoured half-track, he believed he had enough firepower to make the Americans pay dearly for every metre.

The first American squad moved cautiously through the open field south of the village, keeping low as the occasional rifle shot cracked from the buildings ahead. Lieutenant Chaddington followed behind with the second squad, trying to maintain some semblance of order while his men searched for a safe route towards the square. Their attention was soon drawn to the blackened wreck of a German tank sitting near the edge of the field. Its turret had been blown open, and its hull was scorched and battered, but it offered something the surrounding countryside conspicuously lacked: cover. 

Americans take cover

The wreck became their rallying point. A BAR gunner settled beside one of the tracks, his assistant feeding him ammunition as he prepared to cover the advance. Other men peered cautiously around the hull, trying to identify German firing positions.

Then Lieutenant Chaddington spotted an opportunity.

A German machine gun had opened fire from the western side of the square, its bursts kicking dust from the road and forcing the Americans behind the tank to keep their heads down. If they could silence it, the infantry might be able to advance into the village.

The lieutenant turned towards his bazooka team.

"You're going to take that position out."

The two men looked towards the square, then towards the open field between them and the buildings.

Neither appeared particularly enthusiastic.

Nevertheless, they gathered their weapon and ammunition and set off.

The bazooka team had barely crossed the first stretch of open ground when the Germans spotted them.

A rifle cracked from a second-storey window. Another followed, and then the unmistakable chatter of a German machine gun swept across the field. The two Americans dropped instinctively, but there was almost nowhere to hide. The grass was too short, the ground too flat, and the distance to the nearest cover painfully long. A burst of fire struck the earth beside them. Another caught the gunner before he could rise again. Within moments, the bazooka team had been shot to pieces.

Bazooka team is shot down!

A German Sd.Kfz. 251 half-track rumbled into view along the northern road, its armoured hull bouncing over the uneven cobbles. The vehicle slowed beside a damaged building, and its rear doors swung open.

Panzergrenadiers poured out.

The German infantry moved with the confidence of men who had been expecting trouble. Their NCO shouted instructions advancing towards the square. Within moments, they had reinforced the defenders and made the American approach even more dangerous.

The Hanomag's machine gun swept across the field, adding its fire to the German defenders' already formidable position.

Then Von Fieldkraften gave the order he had been waiting to issue. German engineers had prepared demolition charges beside a collection of ammunition crates and supply boxes near the square. The Panzergrenadiers pushed forwards under covering fire, reached the designated position and began their work. A moment later, the centre of Saint-Martin erupted. The explosion hurled dust and broken masonry into the air. The supply crates were torn apart, and the road surface buckled beneath a cloud of smoke. The fountain shuddered, the windows of the surrounding buildings burst outwards, and fragments of stone clattered across the square.

Inside the Hanomag, however, a different drama was unfolding.

Crossroads are destroyed!

The vehicle's Estonian drivers had been perfectly content to bring their passengers into the village. They had endured small-arms fire, the occasional explosion and the general unpleasantness of being shot at with admirable composure. The demolition blast was another matter entirely. The driver stared at the smoke rising from the square. His companion looked at him. Neither man said anything. Then the driver reversed the Hanomag behind a sturdy stone building, switched off the engine and settled as far down inside the vehicle as he could manage.

The Americans could no longer hope to take the crossroads quickly, and the Germans could no longer rely on the intact road to make their retreat straightforward. Both sides now had a simple choice: seize the square or be driven out of it.

Lieutenant Chaddington ordered his men forward.

The first American squad broke from the cover of the tank and dashed towards the southern buildings. Rifle fire snapped around them as they crossed the remaining open ground. A German team firing from a ruined shop forced several men to dive behind a low wall, while the BAR gunner tried desperately to keep the defenders' heads down.

The second American squad advanced along the western approach, moving from one patch of rubble to the next. For a brief moment, it seemed as though the Germans might be pushed back.

Then Von Fieldkraften committed his reserves.

German infantry surged from the northern buildings, firing as they advanced. The Americans were caught between the defenders in the square and the Panzergrenadiers moving through the streets. Men fell on both sides, and the sound of rifles, submachine guns and machine-gun fire echoed between the stone façades. 

Americans shot down at the wall of the crossroads

A German squad attempting to hold the western corner was overwhelmed after a fierce exchange of fire. Almost at the same time, an American section advancing towards the fountain was cut down by concentrated German shooting from the upper windows.

The square filled with smoke, broken furniture and scattered equipment. Neither side had enough men to control the entire village, yet neither was prepared to give up the crossroads.

It became a contest of nerve.

Small groups of infantry dashed between buildings. Men fired from doorways and behind overturned carts. Officers shouted themselves hoarse trying to rally soldiers who had lost contact with their squads.

Von Fieldkraften moved among his defenders, urging them to hold the line.

"Stand your ground! The Americans must not pass!"

He was still shouting when a shot rang out from the southern side of the square.

The German commander staggered and fell.

His men saw him go down, and for a moment their fire faltered. A few soldiers rushed towards their fallen officer, while others looked uncertainly towards the crossroads, suddenly aware that the man holding their defence together was no longer giving orders.

On the opposite side of the square, Lieutenant Chaddington had survived the American advance and was moving forwards with the remaining riflemen.

He reached the edge of the central square, looked at the smoke rising from the demolished road, and made a decision.

"Come on, boys! We're not stopping here!"

With that, he dashed into the centre of the square.

While the main battle raged around the fountain, the fighting on the eastern side of Saint-Martin had become a separate and particularly bitter affair.

An American squad had worked its way through the orchard and reached the edge of the square, only to encounter a German infantry squad occupying the corner beside the bakery. The two forces were close enough to see one another clearly through the smoke and dust.

Their sergeant gave the order to charge.

The Americans vaulted the wall and rushed towards the bakery. The Germans met them at the corner, and the two squads collided in a confused mass of shouting men, rifle stocks and desperate close-quarters fighting.

It was no longer a battle of carefully aimed shots or well-planned manoeuvres. It was a struggle for survival in the narrow space between the bakery and the square.

One by one, the soldiers around the two sergeants fell or were forced out of the fight. The clash gradually subsided until only a handful of men remained standing. Then even those men were gone, leaving the two NCOs facing one another amid the wreckage and the bodies of their fallen squadmates.

The American sergeant was a broad-shouldered veteran with a torn sleeve and a face streaked with dust. His German counterpart was younger, leaner, and clutching his rifle as though it were the last thing keeping him alive.

They stared at one another.

The German lunged first.

The American caught him, and both men crashed to the ground. They grappled among the broken bricks, struggling to gain the upper hand. The German managed to roll on top for a moment, but the American twisted free and drove him back against the rubble.

For several seconds, neither could gain a decisive advantage.

Then the American found his opening.

He forced the German down, overpowered him and finished the struggle.

When he finally rose, breathing hard and barely able to stand, the eastern corner of the square was silent.

Final melee between the sergeants

The American survivors gathered around Lieutenant Chaddington in the battered square. The demolition had destroyed the supplies and damaged the road, while the fighting had left the village strewn with abandoned equipment and shattered masonry. The tank wreck still stood where the Americans had first taken cover, its blackened hull now overlooking the ground they had fought so hard to cross.

Chaddington surveyed the square.

The crossroads was theirs, but the cost had been severe. His bazooka team was gone. Several rifle squads had suffered devastating losses, and the surviving men were exhausted, dirty and short of ammunition. The Germans had retreated, but they had accomplished their main objective: the supplies were destroyed, and the road would require considerable work before vehicles could pass through the village again.

The American lieutenant turned to one of his surviving NCOs.

"Well, Sergeant. We have the square."

The sergeant looked at the crater, the ruined buildings and the scattered remains of the afternoon's fighting.

"Yes, sir. We do."

Chaddington nodded.

"Then I suppose we'd better get on with clearing it."

Behind them, a small group of American soldiers approached the abandoned Hanomag. The vehicle sat tucked behind its stone building, apparently untouched by the fighting. When one of the men peered inside, he found the two Estonian drivers still crouched in the compartment.

They looked up at him.

He looked back at them.

Neither side seemed particularly interested in making the situation more complicated than it already was.

The Americans waved them out, and the drivers surrendered without argument.

By the time the sun dipped behind the Norman hedgerows, Saint-Martin was firmly in American hands. The Germans had withdrawn, the crossroads had been taken, and Lieutenant Chad Chaddington could report success.

It was, by any reasonable measure, a victory.

It was also a bloody nose.

The road remained blocked, the supplies were gone, and the platoon would need reinforcements before it could continue its advance. But the Americans had achieved their objective, and the German rearguard had been forced from the village.

For now, that would have to be enough.

Result: American tactical victory.

The crossroads at Saint-Martin was secured, but the road to the next village would be a long one.

 

An absolute crack game of bolt action wow! A VERY close win by the Americans literally down to the final dice roll of the melee between our two squads to capture the square. It had it all, funny moments, crazy dice rolls and a nail bitter finish! So good to be back in the WW2 setting after a bit of a hiatus to focus on Stargrave.

Battle Report: Forward Operating Posts in Western France

The evening of 9 June 1944 settled uneasily over the Norman countryside, with the fading light casting long shadows across the hedgerows and ruined farms of western France, while in the distance the low rumble of artillery reminded everyone that the Allied invasion was still in its opening and most chaotic phase. Into this tense landscape advanced two forces with exactly the same orders and absolutely no knowledge of the other’s intentions. The men of the British 6th Airborne had been instructed to move into a nearby farming village and establish a forward operating base from which future operations could be coordinated inland. At almost the same moment, officers of the German 2nd Panzer Division had selected precisely the same cluster of farmhouses and crossroads for their own temporary headquarters as they attempted to stabilise the rapidly collapsing front. Neither side expected to encounter the other so quickly, and the result was an escalating clash fought among shattered barns, stone fences, and narrow lanes.

The battle opened cautiously, with both sides probing forward through the fields with the kind of careful discipline born from experienced troops who understood just how lethal a careless movement could be. The Germans gradually occupied the right flank of the battlefield, advancing through orchards and along the edges of the main road while their infantry kept close to hedgerows and trenches, while on the opposite side the British airborne troops pushed steadily up the left, using drainage ditches, low stone walls, and ruined farm structures for cover as they attempted to outflank the German advance before the village itself became fully contested.

Germans in the trenches

Early in the engagement, a German 20mm Flak gun was dragged into position overlooking the centre of the battlefield, its crew quickly traversing the weapon toward a farmhouse where reports indicated a British sniper team had taken position in the upper floor. The autocannon opened fire with a violent burst, shells hammering into the stone walls and blasting apart shutters and roof tiles in a storm of splinters and dust. Yet despite the terrifying display of firepower, the barrage proved surprisingly ineffective, with most of the rounds punching harmlessly through the building or detonating against already ruined masonry while the sniper himself remained concealed somewhere within the wrecked upper rooms.

On the German right flank, the battle began to intensify as a squad of Sturmpioneers advanced aggressively toward the British lines, weaving through shell holes and low hedges before finally taking shelter inside a bombed-out farmhouse dangerously close to the airborne positions. The Germans had advanced far enough that the sounds of shouted commands and rattling equipment could now clearly be heard by the British troops nearby, and for a brief moment it appeared that the pioneers might successfully establish a foothold that could unravel the entire British flank. One of the German troopers cautiously raised himself to peer through the shattered upper window and survey the ground ahead, but almost instantly the crack of a rifle echoed across the fields and he fell dead instantly as the concealed British sniper finally revealed his position.

British advance into the road while taking cover

The effect on the Sturmpioneers was immediate and devastating. Certain that the sniper had them perfectly ranged, the Germans threw themselves to the floor and refused to expose themselves again, every broken window and gap in the walls suddenly seeming like a death sentence. Their hesitation proved fatal. Recognising the moment, British riflemen and Bren gunners surged forward with remarkable aggression, pouring concentrated fire into the farmhouse from multiple angles while grenades crashed through the shattered windows. Trapped, pinned, and too terrified of the sniper to properly return fire, the Sturmpioneers were systematically wiped out where they cowered in the rubble below. Within minutes the German advance on the right flank had collapsed completely, leaving the farmhouse filled only with smoke, dust, and dead pioneers.

Yet while success on the flank briefly raised British morale, disaster was simultaneously unfolding elsewhere along the line. Near the centre of the battlefield, the British airborne second lieutenant cautiously advanced toward the main road, attempting to coordinate the movement of several scattered squads whose progress had slowed amidst the confusion of the firefight. Keeping low behind a stone wall and moving carefully between gaps in the cover, he appeared reasonably protected from enemy fire. However, ahead of him near the edge of a forest, a German rifle squad had already established overlapping fields of fire with their MG34 and Kar98 rifles trained directly onto the road. A sudden burst of Spandau fire erupted across the battlefield, accompanied by disciplined rifle shots snapping overhead, and in the chaos a single stray bullet struck the British officer instantly, killing him before he could even collapse fully behind the wall.

The British leader shot 
down by the forest. 

The effect on the British command structure was catastrophic. With their lieutenant dead and communications already strained, confusion rapidly spread among the airborne troops. His adjutant, shaken by the sudden loss and incoming fire, abandoned the field entirely, while the sniper team that had earlier crippled the Sturmpioneers finally broke under the relentless suppressive fire of the German 20mm Flak gun, retreating from the ruined farmhouse as shells continued to tear chunks from the building around them. Nearby, another British squad occupying a cluster of farms waited desperately for instructions over the radio, but after hearing only silence and static they lost confidence in the situation entirely. Unsure whether to advance, retreat, or hold position, the men elected to stay down rather than risk moving into what they feared might already be a collapsing flank. In doing so, they surrendered the initiative at the most critical stage of the battle.

For a time the engagement settled into a tense stalemate, with both sides pinned behind cover and unwilling to risk a costly assault through the open ground separating the village from the surrounding fields. Rifle fire cracked intermittently through the evening air while wounded men called for medics from shattered buildings and roadside ditches. It was during this uncertain lull that the German lieutenant finally made the decision that would determine the battle.

Under a hail of bullets and against the advice of several of his men, the officer suddenly broke from cover and sprinted forward across the road toward a narrow fence line positioned barely sixty feet from the British-held sector of the village. Somehow surviving the storm of incoming fire, he threw himself behind the fence and immediately began shouting for his men to advance, declaring with complete confidence, “Here is where we set up our forward post!”

The position itself was dangerously exposed and far closer to their own line than most of the German high command would have preferred, yet the sheer audacity of the act had an electrifying effect on the exhausted troops around him. German infantry who moments earlier had been hesitant and pinned now surged forward to support the new position, bringing machine guns and rifle teams up behind the fence while others advanced into the nearby farm buildings. Across the battlefield, the leaderless British airborne troops watched the renewed German momentum with growing uncertainty. Without officers to coordinate a counterattack and with units increasingly isolated from one another, their resistance gradually began to crumble.

The spot the forward base was set up

As darkness approached, the British finally abandoned the village, withdrawing back through the hedgerows and leaving the crossroads and farmhouses in German hands. The men of the 2nd Panzer Division immediately began fortifying their newly won position, turning the shattered Norman village into a forward operating base exactly as they had been ordered to do only hours before.

For the Germans it was a hard-fought local victory, but for the British airborne troops the battle was merely a temporary setback. The village had been lost, but the fighting in Normandy had only just begun.

An awesome game of Bolt Action with the Germans eeking out a win by 1VP with the final dice of the game being a run order to move his 2nd Lieutenant up into the 1VP zone! Risky but decisive enough to get the W. The game had some awesome moments like my opponent rolling 3 6's in a row to kill my 2nd Leutenant (not including my failed cover save!!!). That really swung the game around but it quite literally came down to the last roll of the game to decide if it was going to be a draw or German victory. A real nail bitter!

So good to get the boys back on the table after the last few Stargrave games and looking forward to my next game with some new Temu scatter terrain!

Singing off,

Chewie

Battle Report: The Battle for Maleme Airfield

Battle Report: Maleme Airfield, Crete – 20 May 1941

Dawn broke over Maleme beneath a hard, colourless sky, the air already heavy with the distant drone of aircraft engines as silk canopies blossomed above the olive groves and dry riverbeds surrounding the airfield, and within moments the quiet of the Cretan morning was shattered by rifle fire, shouted orders, and the sharp cracks of bullets snapping through the dust as the German airborne assault began.

The Paras begin to land 

The paratroopers landed in confusion, scattered by wind and enemy fire, and one unfortunate Fallschirmjäger squad drifted far from its comrades and descended directly into the sights of ANZAC defenders positioned on the nearby hills. As the men struggled free from their harnesses and gathered their weapons, accurate rifle and Bren gun fire tore into them, cutting them down almost as soon as their boots touched the ground. There was no chance to regroup or return effective fire, and within minutes the squad had been shot to pieces, their parachutes hanging motionless in the olive trees as grim markers of the price paid for landing in the wrong place.

Elsewhere on the battlefield, fortune favoured the attackers. The remaining German squads landed close together on the edge of the airfield, and despite taking casualties and suffering pins from determined ANZAC fire, their officers quickly imposed order on the chaos. Men were rallied, firing positions established, and disciplined volleys of rifle fire began to hammer the ANZAC trenches overlooking the runway. What had begun as a desperate scramble for survival rapidly turned into a coordinated German foothold, as overlapping fields of fire forced the defenders to keep their heads down and prevented them from exploiting the vulnerability of the landing troops.

From the hills, ANZAC artillery crews attempted to break this growing concentration, but despite repeated adjustments and urgent corrections shouted down the line, shell after shell fell wide of its mark, bursting harmlessly in open ground or overshooting the German positions entirely.  Recognising the opportunity, German troops began pushing forward in small, aggressive groups, advancing from crater to ditch and from stone wall to supply building, steadily expanding their control of the airfield perimeter.

The ANZAC guns on the hill were ineffective

Near the runway itself, the German assault gathered momentum as paratroopers stormed the supply buildings and hangars that dotted the airfield. It was at this moment, as the Germans consolidated their gains, that fresh gunfire erupted behind their lines when a small group of Cretan partisans emerged from cover and opened fire with whatever weapons they could muster. Their shooting was wild and undisciplined, driven more by defiance than training, and though they managed to force the Germans momentarily to ground, the Fallschirmjäger responded. Taking cover in a nearby crater offered the partisans only brief protection, and within moments methodical German fire swept the position, killing them to the last man and extinguishing this brief flare of resistance.

As the battle reached its most dangerous point, a ANZAC Universal Carrier surged forward in an attempt to disrupt the German advance, rattling past a concealed flamethrower team while its own fire proved largely ineffective. The flamethrower ignited, unleashing a roaring torrent of fire that engulfed the vehicle. The operator, frozen in terror and adrenaline, screamed as he held the trigger down, emptying the entire fuel canister in one continuous, horrific burst.

Flames engulf the carrier

With the airfield shrouded in smoke and dust, the decisive moment arrived as German paratroopers launched a determined assault on a ANZAC trench line guarding one side of the runway. Grenades exploded along the parapet, rifles cracked at point-blank range, and after a brief but savage struggle the trench was overwhelmed, forcing the surviving defenders to fall back. With this position taken, the Germans now held complete control of one side of Maleme airfield, and the balance of the battle shifted decisively in their favour.

The defenders are overwhelmed

At the same time, confusion began to spread through the Commonwealth command structure, as the local lieutenant received repeated and contradictory orders urging him to abandon the airfield and prepare instead for a seaborne landing expected elsewhere along the coast. Unaware that Maleme itself was the primary German objective, and faced with mounting pressure on his own front, he hesitated, his ability to command eroded by uncertainty and conflicting demands. Units delayed, orders went unheeded, and precious moments were lost as the defence faltered at the critical point of the engagement.

Although the ANZAC troops managed to hold onto the airfield for a short while longer through sheer determination, the momentum could not be stopped, and the Fallschirmjäger surged forward once more, pushing onto the open runway and securing it under fire. Flares signalled success as German control of Maleme was finally established, and the defenders began their withdrawal toward the hills, conceding the field at last.

As the firing died down and the smoke drifted away, transport aircraft appeared overhead, descending toward the captured runway with reinforcements and supplies, and it was clear to all who witnessed it that the battle for Maleme had decided far more than a single airfield. With its fall, the fate of Crete itself was sealed, and the island passed inexorably into German hands.

 

Another cracking game of bolt action! This was a very fun scenario with chaotic troop placement, limited cover and a clear objective to play for. As luck would have it I (the ANZACs) was convincingly defeated with a final score of 3 to 7. It was fun to play out this historic battle while reading Beevor's Crete and funny how the dice seemed to emulate history in the break down of command and the Germans seizing the day. Looking forward to our next game!

Signing off,

Chewie. 

Battle Report: TheTreasures of War

 Battle Report: The Treasures of War

Western France, September 1944. British Army engage Wehrmacht forces in the small village of Cordonbleau. The British Objective is to recover priceless art stolen from the Louvre. The German Objective: Destroy the British ammunition depot and delay their advance toward the German border.

As dawn broke over the rolling fields of western France, the countryside erupted with the distant rattle of gunfire. Both sides advanced cautiously in a cat-and-mouse game across hedgerows, stone walls, and sunken lanes. British and German machine gunners set up on overwatch, scanning the distant terrain for movement. The tension was thick, each side probing for a weakness.

The British armored cars, their engines growling, pushed forward but were shockingly ineffective, their autocannon rounds pinging harmlessly off stone barns and plowed fields. In contrast, the German 20mm Flak gun roared to life, its tracer rounds cutting through the haze. Within moments, the British Vickers machine gun nest that had anchored the left flank was shredded under a hail of fire. Smoke rose from the cratered position as the flank began to buckle. 

The PIAT team creep towards the German position

Meanwhile, a British PIAT team crept closer to a farmhouse where German snipers had taken up position in the attic. Each movement was cautious, deliberate with the crack of rifle fire overhead a reminder of the danger lurking in the rafters. They sprung from their hiding spot and fired a shell into the farm house killing the sniper team. 

The Germans seized the initiative. A platoon of infantry, supported by grenadiers and machine gunners, surged forward along the left flank. Their boots pounded the earth as they stormed over a low ridge, firing wildly as they went. British riflemen from the farmhouses raked them with rifle and Bren fire, cutting down several, but still the Germans came on, driven by orders and desperation.

The British, meanwhile, hesitated in the woods on the right flank, unwilling to break cover and face the German machine gun that guarded the center. The hesitation proved costly  the enemy seized ground, and the British line began to fray under pressure.

The Germans surge down the left flank

As the Germans crested the trench line, the British mortar crew adjusted their sights. A thump echoed across the field — then another. The second shell landed squarely in the midst of the advancing Germans. The explosion tore through the assaulting squad, wiping them out to a man. The cheers from the British positions were short-lived, but morale surged the line had held, at least for the moment.

At the right side of the field, Captain Heinrich Battonberg, a British officer of dubious heritage, saw an opportunity. Grabbing his Sten gun, he charged forward, firing from the hip into the enemy line. The German Leutnant Otto Von Uberschnitznel's attendant fell, clutching his chest. The two leaders locked eyes and opened up with their submachine guns. Bullets tore through the air. When the echoes faded, Battonberg lay still in the mud, his Sten fallen beside him. Uberschnitznel, wounded but standing, gave a grim nod to his fallen foe before rallying his men again.

The Germans claim the trench only to be instantly wiped out by mortar fire.

The British mortar roared once more, and another direct hit ripped into the German position, scattering the survivors and leaving smoldering wreckage in its wake. Both sides, bloodied and exhausted, began to pull back.

The stolen art remained in German hands  secured in the back of a halftrack rumbling toward the rear. The British ammunition depot still stood untouched, though its defenders had paid dearly for it. The British had held the line — barely — but as dusk settled, it was clear they had come off worse, their wounded filling the woods and trenches where the day’s battle had begun.

 

A cracking game of bolt action and the first game of 3rd edition for my opponent (who commanded the British forces). The mission we played was demolition with a meeting engagement though neither side was able to destroy the opponents base. Before the game started we decided to add a second victory point mission (1 point for every 2 enemy units destroyed) in the case of tie breakers and it ended with a German victory by 1 point! A great game and I was reminded how easy it is to get new people into playing the game with the simple rules of the game, especially when compared to more granular games like Kill Team which my opponent and I also play together. 

Looking forward to many more games in the future (and hopefully I remember to take more photos!) and a small update about some terrain I'm making soon!

Signing out,

Chewie

 

 

 

Battle report: Trench Warfare

The motorbike surges forward

March 1945 -  The early morning mist clung to the broken ground between the two trench systems in Western Germany. A battered expanse of craters, wire, and shattered timber separated the Germans and British — both intent on seizing the other’s line in a grim echo of the Great War. 

The battle began with artillery raining down on both sides, causing casualties and pinning many of the units hunkered down in their trenches. The quiet after the barrage was interupted with the roar of engines as an SS motorbike burst from the German line, racing across no man’s land like a streak of lightning. The bike skidded to a halt almost point-blank before a British rifle squad and unleashed its MG fire. The sharp burst of rounds cut down men instantly, sending others diving for cover in panic.

The flamethrower is ineffective against the tank

But the British recovered fast. Brens, rifles, and even the distant cling of the PIAT fired in retaliation. At last, a direct hit from the PIAT sent the motorbike tumbling into a plume of black smoke and flame. The men cheered — but the cost was high. Nearly every gun on the British line had fired at the speeding menace, leaving their right flank dangerously exposed.

Seeing an opening, a German flamethrower team surged forward, darting between shell holes toward the British Stuart light tank that guarded the center. The operator raised his weapon, loosed a gout of flame that sputtered weakly against the Stuart’s armor. Before he could try again, the fuel tank coughed dry. The team froze in horror. The Stuart’s turret swung toward them, its machine gun chattering. When the smoke cleared, nothing of the flamethrower team remained but scorched earth.

SS troops are struck by the mortar shells raining on them 

The failed flamethrower assault didn’t slow the SS fanatics. With chilling discipline, they surged forward, supported by a Panzer II rattling up behind them. The light tank’s autocannon hammered round after round into the British assault wave trying to cross no man’s land. Shells burst among them, shredding the momentum of the attack.

Pinned and bloodied, the British push faltered. The SS stormed the trenches, grenades flying and bayonets fixed. Close-quarters shooting was brutal, fast, and decisive. Within minutes, the Union Jack that had marked the British line was trampled into the mud. The surviving Tommies, leaderless and reeling, began to fall back toward their reserves.

The Germans storm the trench and capture the line

By late afternoon, the smoke had settled. The once-empty no man’s land was now strewn with the dead and dying. The SS held both trench lines, their peadot uniforms stained with mud and blood. A lone British officer called for a withdrawal — their attempt to seize the enemy trenches had failed.

For the Germans, it was a hard-fought victory, earned through aggression, coordination, and sheer brutality. For the British, it was a bitter defeat — a reminder that even in 1945, some parts of the war could still look hauntingly like 1915.

 

 

 

Another GREAT game of bolt action 3rd edition. The game was extremely swingy with the British looking like they had lost by turn 2 but then reclaiming momentum to only be defeated by the Germans capturing a trench line leaving a final score of 4-2 German way. As usual the dice decided to make the story with many morale checks failed, missed shots and hot rolling swinging the combat. One thing we decided on was that for the future we will re-introduce the 'small teams' rule to give teams (that begin the battle) of 2 or less a -1 to be hit. As it is, it seems way too easy to shoot down these smaller teams than it used to be in 2nd edition. We'll see how it goes but I can't imagine it will be too broken!

 Looking forward to my next game and trying out some new toys for both sides.

Signing out,

Chewie. 

 

Battle Report: Saving Private Damon

Autumn 1944 in a shattered Dutch town. British Army forces are tasked with extracting a wounded paratrooper who holds crucial intelligence on upcoming German counter-offensives. The SS have moved into the village ruins to capture or kill him. Time is running out.

The Vickers set up in the crater.

The battle opened under a leaden sky. British infantry crept into position while a Vickers machine gun team set up in a smoldering shell crater overlooking the town's central avenue — the paratrooper was believed to be wounded and positioned down the road. As the Vickers team adjusted their sights, a Kubelwagen sped into the battle and fired from the far side of town. The first burst tore through the crater’s edge, mowing down the team. Only one shaken private survived, his loader crumpled beside him.

Down the main street, a British 6-pounder anti-tank gun was wheeled into position by a sweating crew. Its barrel locked down the rubble-strewn road — guarding the paratrooper’s last known position. Then came the low rumble of tires and armored plates. A Humber Armored Car rolled forward, firing a shot at the Kubelwagen that had pinned the Vickers team. The round smashed into a wall just wide of the mark, kicking up dust but leaving the vehicle intact.

As the firefight escalated, SS and British troops exchanged fire with varying levels of success. The buildings provided cover British officers radioed for an artillery strike, coordinates already pre-sighted onto the German-occupied buildings. But word came back: the artillery battery was engaged with fighting elsewhere on the front — no support was coming for this battle. The mission now depended on raw courage.

The British make contact with the Para!

Panzer IV crashing through the rubble

As the crack of rifles and the bark of machine guns echoed through the ruined village, Lieutenant Langerton watched his section hesitate in the open, pinned down by crossfire. The wounded paratrooper lay only yards away, slumped against a wall amid shattered bricks and tangled wire. Realizing the urgency, Langerton leapt from cover and sprinted into the street, but as a 20mm Flak shell screamed overhead and exploded nearby, the force of it knocked Langerton  down. Dust filled his lungs, and terror gripped his chest like ice. His voice caught. His courage faltered. He threw himself to the ground, trembling, his orders lost to the din. His men, watching their officer paralyzed with fear, wavered—until Sergeant Whitlow barked a curse, rallied the section with a growl of resolve, and charged into the firestorm himself, picking up where Langerton could not.

With the Germans repositioning, the British infantry squad sprinted down the avenue, bullets buzzing past like angry wasps. A 20mm Flak gun barked from a nearby woods. LMGs and rifles opened up from shattered windows. Bodies dropped left and right — only Sergeant Whitlow, bloodied and limping, reached the collapsed building where the paratrooper lay moaning in the dust.Without hesitation, the sergeant threw the wounded man over his shoulder and sprinted back through hellfire. Germans fired wildly, panic setting in as they realized their prize was slipping away.

The lone Sergeant Whitlow makes it back to the Bren Carrier

A Panzer IV lumbered into view, its crew a ragged mix of inexperienced Ostfront conscripts, hastily pressed into service. The turret swiveled toward the fleeing men. Shells clanged as the crew fumbled to load and fire — but every shot missed. With smoke and chaos all around, the Bren Carrier roared to life, its engine choking through dust. The sergeant threw the paratrooper in and vaulted aboard just as the vehicle lurched into motion. Bullets pinged off the hull as it sped away, carrying its precious cargo to safety.

 The British extracted the paratrooper. The intelligence was recovered. The Germans had thrown everything they had into the fight — but their panic, inexperience, and lack of coordination cost them dearly.

 

Another great game of Bolt Action! This was our second game with the 3rd edition rules and went quite well. I think the rules are pretty good though shooting is a lot deadlier now, with small teams being quite easy to pin down and eliminate even when in buildings or behind cover, something which was much harder in 3rd edition. As is the case with bolt action, there was some amazing moments told by the dice such as the British officer making a snap to order to essentially win the game only to roll 2 6's on the order test and go down instead!! As well the artillery barrage never arriving despite the 2 dice roll thanks to the British special rule!! 

As always, looking forward to the next game.

Signing out,

Chewie. 

 

 

Battle Report: The Airborne Retreat

Monday 25th September 1944. British Airborne forces make their final stand and desperate retreat across the Rhine as Operation Market Garden unravels.  

The PIAT team sneaking up on the Puma.

The battle opened with a crack of resolve from the battered British Airborne. A sleek German Puma rumbled forward into the outskirts of Arnhem, its turret scanning for targets—too late.
From the ruins of a collapsed pharmacy, a PIAT team fired at point-blank range. The shaped charge struck home, ripping through the side armor and sending the vehicle up in a column of smoke and flame. Cheers erupted from the British foxholes. Moments later, a German flamethrower team sprinted across an open field toward the woodland near the church. But the fields had eyes—their movement triggered an ambush from a Vickers MG team. Caught in the open, the flame troopers never made it. The opening turns were a masterclass in British defensive tactics. But it wouldn’t last.

Major Ellis is cut down in the street.

The Germans struck back, advancing through the bombed-out streets of Arnhem. Houses filled with British paratroopers exchanged fire with Heer Grenadiers, the walls shaking with each burst of gunfire.

From a ruined farm house, a German sniper team pinned the men of the 2nd Platoon in their hiding place. To break their shock, Major Ellis ran across the open street, shouting at them to rally—
—but the paratroopers stayed frozen, and the hesitation proved fatal German grenadiers stormed the house, killing the machine gunners on the upper floor. Trapped and exposed in the open, Major Ellis turned to run—but it was too late. A Hanomag screeched to a halt, and German troops leapt out, their rifles finding their mark. The Major fell in the street. The British were now leaderless. 

Crackling over the field radios came the order to retreat - Operation market Garden was a failure! A British artillery barrage, called in by a spotter, came crashing down on the Germans. One entire Grenadier squad was vaporized, their position now a scorched crater. But not all the British would make it. In a house close to the river, 2nd Platoon was further pinned by the very barrage meant to save them. No way to reach the river—they were stranded.

The airborne scramble to retreat

The retreat began under fire. British squads fell back in good order, leapfrogging from cover to cover but the Germans pursued with unrelenting speed. A British jeep, packed with wounded, attempted to reach the crossing—but a Kubelwagen’s MG42 stitched across the road, shattering its wheels. The jeep skidded into a wall, immobilized. Sensing opportunity, Von Schnitzel, the German commander, mounted his Hanomag and thundered down the road in hot pursuit. The Germans surged forward, pressing the crumbling flank and securing a winning position.

 

 

 In the final moments of the battle small groups of paratroopers slipped away from the battle lines and began their retreat across the Rhine into safe territory. However, some troops were left behind with no choice but to surrender to the Germans... Operation Market Garden had come to a conclusion.

 

An absolute cracker game of bolt action to finish off our campaign. The scenario was actually very fun and there was some really swingy moments that looked like either side was about to steal the win, however, in the end the final points were a draw! This concludes the operation market Garden Campaign and our final game of 2nd edition. It's been an excellent campaign and an absolute blast to play through, very much looking forward to our next one!

Signing out,

Chewie