"Burn Baby, Burn" A Sharp Practice Britcon 2018 Batrep

This is the last of my Britcon batreps, and it is the most glorious. I was playing against a gent from "dahn sarf" by the name of Mike who was a most agreeable opponent. My mission was imple, to burn as many buildings in the village as possible. To help me in this I had been allocated three tinder  boxes to distribute among my troops. For each building I had to take a task test; I had to accumulate 18 points on two dice rolls per activation of each group in a building. This fell to 11 for groups with a tinderbox. Groups attempting to start fires could do nothing else that turn.

The Portuguese were some distance away and would only begin to arrive the third time their commanders chip had been drawn or by using three command flags. As it was they didn't start to arrive till turn 4. They were unaware of my mission but that didn't daunt them as you will see

On The Horns Of Dilemma

    "But why must we burn the village, uncle..I mean mon Capitaine"? Capitaine Richard D'Astardly sighed wearily and removed his dirty, sweat stained bicorn and mopped the sweat from his balding head with an equally squalid handkerchief and regarded the questionaire. He looks so like Elise, he thought, seeing his dead sister's features in his nephews face.

    "Well, young Charles" he replied "Here is a most important military lesson for you; one that you must bear in mind for the rest of your military career; what do you see before"?

     Sous Lieutenant Carion de Notte, emulating his uncle, removed his bicorne, mopped his brow and gazed thoughtfully at the village before him. A few moments passed and he responded "houses; I see some houses and a few fields of corn...mon Capitaine"

   

     "Anything more...beyond the few houses and fields of corn?" said D'Astardly. Cherubino gazed more intently, pushing out his bottom lip as he did. A pang of sadness pierced D'Astardly's heart...the thoughtful expression and the way Cherubino pushed out his bottom lip; so like his dead sister..."Well"? he said, to take his mind of his sadness.

    "Mon capitaine, I see, beyond the village a small rise and beyond that, far beyond that mountains" said Cherubino, hoping his response was the correct one.

    "Well done, Charles, mon brave. Now how many people do you see? How many farm animals; goats, chickens, donkeys do you see?" asked D'Astardly

     "None" came the instantaneous response. "Exactly; none" said D'Astardly. "Here we have a small village at the foot of the mountains; the houses are well kept, the fields tilled or full of crops but there are no people present. Our scouts visited last night and found not a soul, no, not even a scrawny chicken with which to fill their breakfast pot; where can they all be, eh?"

    "The chickens?" Cherubino said, quizzically. D'Astardly looked at him blankly then laughed "yes, Charles, the chickens...and the goats..and the donkeys..and, most importantly the villagers; where are they, eh?"

     Cherubino pondered briefly and opened his mouth to speak but was interrupted by D'Astardly "They have gone, Charles, to the mountains to join the...what do they call themselves...ah yes, to join the guerrillas. Those damned guerrillas who fight from the dark, who shoot and run and have no stomach for a face to face fight; that is where they have gone. And while they are happy to hide in the hills they have no need for their nice houses and fields full of corn and since we will not be staying here but returning to the garrison then there is no need for this village to be here to offer them comfort and shelter when we go; that is why we are gong to burn it; that and because, most importantly, we have been ordered too!" So sayong D'Astardly donned his bicorne and turned to St Mouttley "Sergeant, get the men fell in on the road; we march in five minutes!" 

     As the sergeant and the rest of the company NCOs rounded up the men who had been resting by the roadside into formation a dragoon rode up to the captain "Capitaine D'Astardly; we have just sighted an enemy column approaching the far side of the village; about three miles away" D'Astardly paused and, looking up at the young negro astride the dappled horse, considered. "Thank you, Lt Dumas; could you see who they were; what kind of troops?" The dragoons' horse, flecked with sweat and dust, was skittish and the dragoon had trouble controlling it "Hard to say, mon Capitaine, with the dust and the distance, but they appeared to be disciplined enough to move in a column"

     "Very well, Lt Dumas, if you will take your men and start on the buildings on the right of the track we will deal with those on the left" So saying D,Astardly called his company to attention and began to march them swiftly towards the village of San Fernando.

The French move rapidly into the town, On the left flank the Voltiguers manage to set two buildings aflame  as do the dragoons on the left. Meanwhile with the threat of enemy forces arriving soon, Lt Mercier gets his gun forward

D'Astardly leads his men forward to the far side of the village with
 the aim of being prepared for the enemy, whoever they are

Alons! Alons!

The enemay arrive on the outskirts of the village; Portuguese!!

The Portuguese deploy expertly in  manner that D'Astardly can only admire 

While his own troops are prodded and shoved into line

Sgt Le Brock and his men follow up behind the Line troops

Lt Mercier leads his gun off to the left flank, aiming to get a clear view of the enemy

Sgt Le Brock's men are busy setting the house alight

Lt Dumas and his dragoons head off to meet the Portuguese cavalry

and look rather spiffing whilst they do it..

The village starts to burn in earnest. There will be many a villager
cursing the French and their depredations this night

D'Astardly's men advance in line preparing to take on some of Portugal's finset

     As his men advanced in their ragged column, D'Astardly watched the Portuguese as they moved skillfully forward in pairs; moving and shooting. Thus far their shooting had been negligible but they were closing rapidly. It was now or never for his men; much closer and the Portuguese fire would begin to take serious effect. "Company will HALT!" The advancing French juddered to a halt as NCOs ran up and down the line, pushing men forward or pulling them back till the line was straight. There was a pause then D'Astardly shouted above the sound of the Portuguese shooting "Company will present!" Along the line the nervous infantrymen stepped forward with their left foot and brought their musket butts into their shoulders as their barrels swung down to the horizontal. swaying briefly. Another pause, during which the men noticed the Portuguese were getting much closer. This pause was a brief one as D'Astardly knew that his men's aim, such as it was, would begin to droop with the weight of their muskets,,,"FIRE!!" The volley crashed out, smoke obliterating the men's view of the enemy. "RELOAD!!" D'Astardly knew time was critical as the Portuguese were now closer. As his men fumbled to reload their muskets the Portuguese replied with a volley that cut down a few of the Frenchmen. A gust of hot, dry wind blew the powder smoke away and D'Astardly was horrified to see the Portuguese had closed to the wall and appeared to have suffered no casualties form the French volley. Realising his men had no time to finish reloading their muskets and getting off an aimed volley before the Portuguese fired again and that if they stayed where they were the Frenchmen would get cut to pieces, D'Astardly threw caution to the wind; raising his sword, he cried "Company!! CHARGE!!" 

    The infantrymen hesitated for a moment as if in disbelief, threw their bayonets forward and dashed after their captain, now a few yards ahead of the line, towards the enemy now hunkered behind the wall..

CHARGE!!

A brief but bitter contest ensues

Cherubino tastes real combat for the first time 

But there could be only one outcome. The tough Portuguese infantrymen throw back
the French line, who leave many dead and wounded including Capitaine D'Astardly

The Portuguese view of the village

Sgt Le Brock and his men retreat, their missions accomplished; two houses ablaze

     I must get a grip of myself thought Sous Lieutenant Carion de Notte. I must rally the men. He raised his voice, now hoarse from the battle; the shouting of orders, the wild, inarticulate cries he had made during the bloody fight; the smoke from the burning buildings, and croaked "Stand fast, men; stand fast!" but only those closest to hi heard him and, to his astonishment, they stopped falling back. Quickly he shouted "Face front; Reload!" the men swiftly looked around then at Cherubino's face, dirty, grimy, flushed and furious then started to reload their weapons. To Cherubno's left he could hear the cannon roaring out at some unseen target and hear shooting beyond the buildings. This battle wasn't over yet..............


Post script
    Actually it was; from a dominating position in the game; fur buildings ablaze, the Portuguese cavalry sent reeling back with their wounded leader I was then thrown on the horns of dilemma. We were nearing the end of the game; if I could withdraw my chaps safely then it was in the bag.

   Unfortunately, D'Astardly and his men were stuck in the open, facing three groups of Portuguese skirmishers, crouching behind a sheltering brick wall. What to do? The French Line had accumulated a lot of shock and with only one dice for retiring they were certainly mot going to be falling back far enough to be out of harms way so, far from being on the horns of dilemma, D'Astardly had only one unpleasant choice; to charge. And it was a very bloody, very costly affair for the French. When we totaled it up, my opponent, a very nice Londoner by the name of Mike, had somewhere in the region of forty dice to roll...gulp!! So we set to it and, mon Dieu, so many fives and sixes rolled by the Portuguese and so few in return. And there was D'Astardly rolling in the dust, cut and wounded and left for dead by his men who prompt;y broke and fled. No need to worry about rolling low on the dice now.

Mike's "kill" dice

and mine; no contest really 

    Cherubino did manage to halt the group he was with and get them into order but the remainder were beyond his control. And by then it was all over. And what a cracking good game it was, even the combat and it's result...no, especially with the combat and it's result. The Portuguese came on in great style and were the very devil to beat. They certainly lived up their well earned moniker of the Fighting Cocks. An excellent final flourish for the French (try saying that after a few!), much glory and honour gained, though at a price, and narrative background fluff galore garnered. And a fitting climax to a most excellent weekend of a Sharp Practice.

Already looking forward to the next Sharp Practice event in the new year down in Bristol (or Brizzle if you're a local) this time it's the French Indian Wars and this time I shall be fighting the French dogs and their untrustworthy native allies with a half company of British Redcoats led by a certain Captain Kennedy. But more of that later. In the meantime, it's time for nursie to tuck in my tartan wrap, pour me a nice cup of sweet, milky tea and give me a couple of digestive biscuits to dip in my tea


pip pip,
General J