David Hughes - Mar 3, 2012 7:36 pm (49704.)
Sir Minty and Whitey are both fekin heroes to me
[Hughes, David]
On the Table - Flight of the Eagle

Given how hard it is for a classic, two player board wargame to handle the
fog of war, it has always surprised me that umpired or controller gaming
is so rare.

Pratzen Editions' Flight of the Eagle (Le Vol de l'Aigle) is an honourable
exception. Covering many of Napoleon's campaigns, it explicitly focusses
on the challenges of command in a world of imperfect information, is aimed
squarely at team play and depends the services of an umpire. In many ways
it is more in the tradition of Kriegspiel than boardgames.

A hoary-handed group of CSW members took it for a run in Sydney yesterday.
We took on the early days of the 1809 campaign in Bavaria - what Jack Gill
refers to as eight days in April when the war opened and the tide turned.
Archduke Charles and his motley marshals were played by Mark McGilchrist,
Bob Casey and Richard Cornwell, while Napoleon and his gang of arrivistes
were directed by David Longworth, Mark Ay and Paul Haseler. I donned the
mantle of umpire.

Flight of the Eagle is an interesting system. The players have only a
rather empty and not necessarily accurate period map, on which they draw
the planned moves for their divisions for the following days. The umpire
updates all moves on a master map, and informs players of any contact. The
only means of communication between players is by written messages,
transmitted by the umpire. Messages move at 10km per hour, can be delayed,
intercepted and once, inadvertently, lost altogether. Players can scout
locally, or further afield with cavalry patrols, but the results are not
necessarily complete or accurate.

So, how did our typical gamers fare when thrust into the Generals' britches?

Quite well, actually. Leaving a corps to take and hold Munich, Charles
sent the bulk of his force to destroy Davout, and capture Ratisbonne
before Napoleon's arrival on the 4th day of the campaign. The
multi-commander concentration on Davout went surprisingly well - at first.
Lefevbre's Bavarians - guarding the passages of the swollen Isar River
were brushed aside, and the victorious Austrians lost no time in marching
towards Ratisbonnne, on three axis.

However, our Davout was not one to sit idly by and wait for the pincers to
close. And unlike his historic counterpart he was not hamstrung by orders
by the hamfisted Berthier. But instead of moving west to link up with
Napoleon, our Davout plunged south-east - why, I can only guess. This
unanticipated move had two unexpected results. First, it meant that he sat
astride the planned advance of Rosenberg's II Corps, which was promptly
and handily routed. The second was that - unknown to ANY of the players -
Davout sat squarely in the middle of FOUR Austrian corps, all within
supporting distance. You can take the central position too far! All that
was required was a single, all-seeing hive brain and Davout's goose was
cooked.

Further south, the remaining French troops began to arrive. Napoleon -
isolated from the battlefield - directed Massena, Oudinot and Vandamme
south toward Munich, leaving Davout to his own devices. Whether this was
from jealousy, neglect or unshakable confidence has puzzled historians for
2 centuries. Whatever the cause, these three marshals proceeded to act as
if each was the only force in the theatre; Vandamme to the North was
checked by Hiller, Oudinot in the centre marched due east, into a vacuum,
and Massena proceeded south, where his contemptuous swatting of Bellegarde
could not disguise the strategic disarray afflicting the Emperor's army.

Napoleon himself reached the field early on the fourth day; issuing
frantic calls for all and sundry to concentrate on his Imperial person, he
rallied Vandamme's troops and forged east once more. Running into
Kollowrath's advance guard he deployed for battle. But the sound of the
guns attracted Hiller's attention, and the Austrian hordes reached the
battlefield before Oudinot's hard-marching veterans, Faced with such a
disparity of force not even the Emperor's genius could prevail, and the
Austrians won the day.

There we left it, with the fate of France lying, not for the first time,
in the capable hands of the Iron Marshal...

Overall, this was an experiment which shows promising results, I think.
All the players enjoyed it, and it was fascinating to watch it all unfold
from the umpire's omniscient perspective. It was not without warts,
however. The combat routines did not always convince the players that
their operational brilliance was adequately rewarded, for instance. More
critically, forcing a gang of pretty gregarious gamers to sit silently in
their own space for 6 hours is not going to happen every month. It was
also very slow - we managed four days in the day's play.

It was also a LOT of work. Bob - the most assiduous of the players - who
went to the lengths of building a spreadsheet for fatigue losses - was
tracking his divisional roster down to the individual trooper. I spent
many hours prepping for the day - copying maps, making roster sheets,
sending out instructions, briefing players, buying stationery etc etc -
but that paled into insignificance compared to the umpiring effort on the
day. I was exhausted by the end. If we ever run it again, I think we will
go with an umpiring team.

But it was well worth it. Looking at the players, bent over maps with
compasses in hand set to the standard daily march, frantically scribbling
out messages while puzzling over the enemy's position was priceless. And
the gang seemed to think so too - the same 7 players have agreed to start
up a pbem game of the 1815 campaign. Let me know if you want your own
chance at a marshal's baton.