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| One thing the Campaign Fortress Budapest book has in abundance is photos of amazing looking bespoke terrain. I mean who wouldn't want to game on a table with terrain this stunning looking. |
Introduction
It's been a wee while since our last Bolt Action batrep and this one has been sitting on the back burner while I awaited the arrival of the Muse (yes, I don't just write any old nonsense, dear reader; I wait till I am inspired then I write any old inspired nonsense) and, goodness, hasn't she, the Muse, dragged her feet. She has turned up though and here, courtesy of the Muse (so don't go blaming me), is some inspired nonsense.
The Scenario
This game was, as it says above, a scenario from the Campaign Fortress Budapest supplement; scenario number, yes, you guessed it, 14. This is set in the period, late on in the siege, when the Soviets have pushed the German and Hungarian units back across the Danube and now surrounded the city of Buda and the only way the Axis defenders in Buda could be resupplied was by air.
This took the form of both parachute supply drops and by gliders filled with much needed supplies; both perilous undertakings thanks to the Soviet air defences girding the city. The supply gliders were piloted by young volunteers who knew they were on a one way ride but they went all the same. The supply drops and gliders were aimed at two small parks in the centre of Buda.
Though the Soviets fortunes were on the ascendant, their units at the sharp end of the battle were feeling the pinch themselves as the Soviet push towards Berlin was talking the priority in both men and materials; consequently even German supplies were highly prized buy the front line units. This scenario therefore pitches two forces of equal points against one another in a race to capture the German supplies that have just been dropped in one of the city's parks.
Forces
This mission calls for forces of equal points value. We went for 1500 points as this allowed us to bring in the big guns as well as lots of the smaller ones.
My 1500 point Soviet force was basically all I had, figure wise, for my Soviets. I think only my commissar and forward artillery observer missed out this game. My list looked like this:
Soviets Force
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| Yuri Tvat, Junior Lieutenant |
Veteran Junior Lieutenant Yuri Tvat plus two men armed with rifles
(for that "opportune, very slim chance of a pin" shot)
2 x 12 man Regular SMG squads with an LMG
1 x 12 man Regular Guards Squad with an LMG
1 x Veteran Assault Engineer Squad armed with
SMGs, an LMG and two panzerfausts
Veteran MMG with a shield fitted
Veteran Medium Mortar with Spotter
Veteran Sniper Team
3 x Veteran Anti Tank Rifle Teams
Veteran Flame Thrower Team
Veteran B64 Armoured Car
Regular T34/85
Rich, once more, brought his SS to the fray and continuing with his current approach of aiming to create fairly historically accurate platoons, his forces looked something like this;
German Force
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| Helmut Schiner, Oberscharfuhrer |
Veteran Lieutenant, Obersharfuhrer Helmut Schiner plus one man
(both armed with assault rifles....and why not)
3 x Veteran SS squads with mix of LMG, assault
rifles, SMGs and Rifles...oh, and panzerfausts
Veteran Medium Mortar and Spotter
Veteran Sniper Team
Light Howitzer
251/1 Sdkfz Half Track
Sdkfz 250/9 Recce Half Track
Panzer V Panther
Set Up
The game is played on a 6'x4' table. We had to roll for the amount of objectives , the supply canisters and their contents that we were to fight over. Rolling a D3 we got a 3. To this was added another 3 which took us to 6 objectives in total.
These we took turns at deploying on the table with the caveat that they couldn't be closer than 12" to a table edge or another objective marker (see photo below).
Deployment
We then rolled for our deployment zones (one of the long table edges) which Rich won and he chose the side with the buildings on it. I, surprise, surprise, took the other and opposite side.
Objective
The Axis/German player must secure as many canisters as he can whilst the Soviet player must stop him. To hold an objective, a player must have one model from one of their infantry or artillery units within 3 inches of the objective and there must be no enemy models within 3 inches to contest it.
Special Rules
Now there are a couple of scenario special rules included in this mission; Supply Canisters and Glider Crash.
Supply Canisters; Whenever a unit of infantry or artillery came within 3" of a canister they had to search it by rolling a D6 and applying the result to a table to reveal what they had found; some useful supplies or others that were less useful. For instance a 1 resulted in the container being full of Iron Crosses while a 5 meant the canister was full of panzerfausts meaning the squad that found the canister was now equipped with up to four panzerfausts. These various results might be used in game like the panzerfausts or grant more victory points; very nice and a great idea. But, being over excited (not a pretty sight) we forgot that rule (you knew that was coming, didn't you). However we will remember it next time as we will definitely be playing this mission again.
Glider Crash: At the beginning of turn 4 a glider full of supplies crash lands on the battlefield. It's direction of travel and the distance it travels are decided by dice roll. Once this has been determined, any units who would be under the glider when it lands are treat as having been hit by a medium howitzer. Any other unit within 12" of the centre of the glider's landing place roll for the effect it has on them, mostly it's pins but it can be worse as we shall see.
Duration
The players must keep a count of how many turns they have played. At the end of turn 6 a die is rolled and one a result of 1-3 the game ends. On a result of 4-6 the game continues for another turn.
Victory
To win a player must score two or more victory points more than his opponents. Anything less is a draw. Each canister is worth two victory points and the glider (or it's remains ) are worth 6 points.
So there you have it, now to battle; already , as dawn is beginning to break I can hear the approaching throb of JU52 engines heralding another desperate effort by the Luftwaffe to bring some succor to the besieged troops: I can see the search light beams criss-crossing one another as they search for the approaching aircraft in the pre-dawn dark, the explosions of flak bursts and the deadly tracer arcing lazily into the air from the Soviet air defences (ooh, it's already exciting and I have hardly started.......)
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| Suggested layout for the scenario. An area of parkland edged on two sides by buildings |
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| Our interpretation |
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| Six objectives marked, for those of you who can't handle suspense, by the orange spots |
Sylvester felt a massive blow on his side as he turned instinctively from the flash and cried out at the searing pain that stabbed at his senses. His sight dimmed momentarily then he shook his head and, gripping the controls with both hands, he stole a glance at his co-pilot. He in turn was gazing at Sylvester. "Take control, Julius; I'm hit" The co-pilot continued to gaze. "Take control, Julius; that's an order" shouted Sylvester through the pain. No response then Sylvester noticed the large patch of blood on the front of the co-pilot's jacket and his dead hands, still on the controls, pushing them forward. Panic gripped Sylvester and through a mist of pain he started to pull back on the controls against the dead weight of his co-pilot's grip.....
In the rear compartment of the JU52, a warning light near the side door changed from red to green. Standing by the door, Oberfeldwebel Karl Becker wrenched it open and secured it against the fuselage. Outside and unsettlingly close beneath the plane,, the crewman caught sight of the wrecked city of Budapest.
Roofless, windowless buildings, fires, billowing smoke, vehicles moving along choked, rubble strewn streets, figures running and shell bursts before they were passing over what was left of the trees in the parkland that was the drop zone; all were caught in his momentary glance before he turned and automatically began throwing out the bales of supplies.
This being the ninth time in as many days they had carried out this supply drop, they knew what to expect and that speed was of the essence. He and his fellow crewmen worked quickly and efficiently, paying little heed to the nearby explosion that rocked the plane, causing tiny holes to appear in the fuselage as they did so, until all the cargo had been thrust through the open door in the side of the aircraft.
As the last bundle left the plane, a mere seconds after the first, Becker, still by the door flicked a switch by the door to alert the pilot that the cargo was all gone and, fighting the elemental forces of the airflow, he closed the door. As the door clunked into place, he noticed that the plane had not picked up the speed it had done on previous runs when they had completed their drop. Usually, their cargo dispatched and the plane noticeably lighter the plane had always surged upwards as if it was trying to escape the flak of it's own volition. Looking down the length of the fuselage he gaped in horror at the sight of mangled wreckage where once there had been the door of the cockpit. Light streamed through the gaping shrapnel holes and he felt the floor of the plane tilt forward......
Crouching in the darkened ruin, Lieutenant Tvat buttoned his flies and stepped away from the stinking pile of diahorrea on the floor. Third time in the last two hours he thought to himself as he made his way forward to where his two platoon runners sat by the doorless frame of the ruin he and the rest of the platoon were stationed in. "Still bad, comrade Lieutenant?" asked one of them quietly. "Yes, Popov; do you have any vodka left?" muttered Tvat. Private Popov rummaged around noiselessly in his pack and then offered a bottle to the lieutenant. Tvat uncorked it and took a long draught. As the fierce raw spirit his his throat he almost choked. Spluttering and choking, his eyes streaming with tears, Tvat gasped hoarsley. "That's not fucking vodka, Popov!". The men around him laughed noiselessly. "It is, comrade lieutenant" replied Popov in a mock hurt tone. "Sorry, comrade lieutenant, I hadn't realised you had become a connoisseur; I'll take it back.." he said, reaching for the bottle. "You fucking won't!" rasped Tvat, taking another deep draught, this time prepared for the fiery sting of the alcohol. Wiping his mouth, he gave the bottle to the private next to Popov, much to Popov's dismay. "Share and share alike, Private Popov" he whispered, slapping him affectionately around the head "That way we can all learn to be connoisseurs".
Through the door frame the trees in the park were beginning to appear more stark against the snow covered ground; dawn was approaching and above the background noise of the unceasing battle in the city they could hear the approaching aircraft. "Here come the Germans breakfasts, lads. Let's see if we can beat them to the buffet" said Tvat, picking up his PPSh-41. Private Popov opened his mouth to ask what a buffet as the lieutenant moved passed him through the doorway towards the edge of the park but he thought better of it and shrugging on his pack and clutching his rifle he followed silently.....
Oberscharfuhrer Schiner blew on his finger tips, trying to get some warmth and sensation back into them before continuing to fill the curved magazines in the gloomy confines of a ruined greenhouse. Fumbling he dropped the last few rounds into the muddy patch of snow where he was kneeling. Picking them out of the snow, he cursed as his fingers, now wet, once more began to lose precious heat and feeling. He wiped his fingers on his sleeves, pulled a grubby, torn rag from his pocket and wiped the bullets down methodically, checked them one last time and then finally loaded them into the magazine.
The magazine full he thrust it into the pouch hanging from his belt. He patted his pockets, searching for a cigarette and, on the point of giving up, he found a bent, wrinkled stub in his inside pocket. He straightened it out then peered at it in the growing light. He could just make out the red circle on it with the words "Lucky Strike" printed inside the circle. A souvenir from the Ardennes he thought, recalling the bitter fighting against the American troops a few weeks previously though it might have been a lifetime ago. How he regretted the unit's move south eastwards to fight the Soviets. Not because it was any harder; those Americans had proved to not be the push over they had expected. No, what he regretted was the fact that these Soviets had nothing in the way of decent rations, clothing or even cigarettes. The Americans had a profundity of everything. Every wrecked jeep or truck had proved a treasure trove of cigarettes, tinned food and bottles of "liberated" wines, cognacs and brandies. So much for allied integrity he though, smiling grimly to himself. Now he, his men and indeed the whole surrounded Axis force in Budapest were living on pitifully few scraps of rations including lots of horse meat. That and whatever the Luftwaffe, God bless them, could get through to them.
This being the ninth time in as many days they had carried out this supply drop, they knew what to expect and that speed was of the essence. He and his fellow crewmen worked quickly and efficiently, paying little heed to the nearby explosion that rocked the plane, causing tiny holes to appear in the fuselage as they did so, until all the cargo had been thrust through the open door in the side of the aircraft.
As the last bundle left the plane, a mere seconds after the first, Becker, still by the door flicked a switch by the door to alert the pilot that the cargo was all gone and, fighting the elemental forces of the airflow, he closed the door. As the door clunked into place, he noticed that the plane had not picked up the speed it had done on previous runs when they had completed their drop. Usually, their cargo dispatched and the plane noticeably lighter the plane had always surged upwards as if it was trying to escape the flak of it's own volition. Looking down the length of the fuselage he gaped in horror at the sight of mangled wreckage where once there had been the door of the cockpit. Light streamed through the gaping shrapnel holes and he felt the floor of the plane tilt forward......
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| As dawn lights up the battlefield, the German and Soviet forces on either side of the park begin to move forward to recover the supplies. |
Through the door frame the trees in the park were beginning to appear more stark against the snow covered ground; dawn was approaching and above the background noise of the unceasing battle in the city they could hear the approaching aircraft. "Here come the Germans breakfasts, lads. Let's see if we can beat them to the buffet" said Tvat, picking up his PPSh-41. Private Popov opened his mouth to ask what a buffet as the lieutenant moved passed him through the doorway towards the edge of the park but he thought better of it and shrugging on his pack and clutching his rifle he followed silently.....
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| The Ju 52s approach route |
The magazine full he thrust it into the pouch hanging from his belt. He patted his pockets, searching for a cigarette and, on the point of giving up, he found a bent, wrinkled stub in his inside pocket. He straightened it out then peered at it in the growing light. He could just make out the red circle on it with the words "Lucky Strike" printed inside the circle. A souvenir from the Ardennes he thought, recalling the bitter fighting against the American troops a few weeks previously though it might have been a lifetime ago. How he regretted the unit's move south eastwards to fight the Soviets. Not because it was any harder; those Americans had proved to not be the push over they had expected. No, what he regretted was the fact that these Soviets had nothing in the way of decent rations, clothing or even cigarettes. The Americans had a profundity of everything. Every wrecked jeep or truck had proved a treasure trove of cigarettes, tinned food and bottles of "liberated" wines, cognacs and brandies. So much for allied integrity he though, smiling grimly to himself. Now he, his men and indeed the whole surrounded Axis force in Budapest were living on pitifully few scraps of rations including lots of horse meat. That and whatever the Luftwaffe, God bless them, could get through to them.
"Pfennig for your thoughts,Oberscharfurher?" said a darkened form sitting near him. Schiner turned towards the man "I was just thinking, Rottenfurhrer Glatze, that when I get home, once this is all over, I am going to have two hot baths; one to wash the filth and vermin off and the other just t soak in. Then I am going to sit and eat and drink till I pass out. And when I wake up I am going for a good shit then I am going to to eat and drink till I pass out again" Rottenfurher Glatze laughed quietly. "Not going for a fu....not going to bed with a warm, young fraulien first, sir?". It was Schiner's turn to laugh "Priorities first, Glatze. My hunger for food outdoes every other hunger right now; even se..." He stopped mid flow as the sound of aero engines reached them. "Stand the men too, Rottenfuhrer, the supply drop is coming" "Jawohl sir!" repied Glatze then he moved off quickly, shaking and kicking the dozing forms lying nearby awake, the growing sound of the approaching planes adding to Glatze's urging and the sleepy soldiers gathered up their equipment and weapons....
Under cover of the garden wall, Lt Tvat's men wrenched open the metal parachute container and started swearing "Medals! Fascist medals!! Where's the food!! This has been done deliberately! The Fascist bastards!!" they howled and began to pull the container apart in the hope that there might be food concealed elsewhere in the container but no, all there were was several hundred Iron Crosses, several metres of medal ribbon and bundles of blank citations. Tvat looked at the blank citations and, feeling his stomach begin to churn, grabbed a handful "At least these will be of some use, comrades" and he dashed around a corner, unhooking his belt as he did so....
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| On the German left flank a Panther grinds forward between the abandoned housing on the park's edge |
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| Preceded by a squad of SS, veterans of the siege and very hungry for food, ammunition and mail from home. |
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| The Soviets send a squad of submachine gun totting Assault Engineers forward on their right, aiming to outflank the Panther
and hopefully tackle it's rear armour with their liberated
panzerfausts. At least that's the plan.
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| On the Soviet right, a T34/85 supports the Guards squad as it advances and seizes the first supply bundle |
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| The Sdkfz 251/1 brews up after an 85mm shell slams into it. Almost predictably the passengers escape unharmed barring a slight shaking and some singed trouser seats.. |
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| The Sdkfz 250/9 creeps forward past the burning 251/1 |
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| The Soviet platoons support elements, medium mortar, 2 anti tank rifles and MMG, clustered around the centre of the Soviet deployment zone where they hope to be able to offer the most...erm...support |
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| Lt Tvat positions himself behind the BA-64 armoured car, in the centre of his troops, ready to rally any faltering spirits. (Just an aside but why do model figure sculptors insist on making kneeling figures with their left knee on the ground? A kneeling rifleman would always use his left knee as a support for his left arm to assist stabilising the rifle when firing...but I digress) |
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| SMG squad on the left, engineers on the right, enemy to the front, let's go lads... |
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| The Soviets seize the first supplies |
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| The flame thrower team spy out the Sdkf 250/9 and decide to make it heir mission to destroy it. So begins a deadly game of cat and mouse between these two units... |
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| The first supply bundle secured the Soviets attempt to whittle down the SS troops taking cover in the gardens to their front |
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| U-ra! |
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| The SS medium mortar, once again effective...but not for long |
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| The Panther pushes forward tpwards the only genuine armour threat the Soviets possess, the T34/85 |
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| In the gardens, the SS set up their temporary defences |
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| ...as the 250/9 jockeys for a position where it can be of some use to the advancing German forces and out of range of the approaching flame thrower. |
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| The Soviet engineers advance on the remnants of the German mortar; which had already suffered from counter battery fire but was still gamely manned by the last crew member. In the end the engineers assaulted him rather than leave him to menace the other soviet forces (the German mortar was zeroed in.) |
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| Beyond the Soviet engineers an SMG armed squad finishes off the remnants of an SS squad. A fine and very rare example of fire and manouvre being employed by yours truly in Bolt Action with the Soviet MMG acting as a fire base and the SMG squad the manouvre base. Rare for me, I say, but fiend Richie does it all the time, damn his tactical acumen. |
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| The T34/85 edges it's way forward hoping to get in the first shot and destroy the Panther |
Ahead of the DFS-230 glider, the pilot of it's Ju87 tow, spoke briefly over the intercom that stretched between the two aircraft "Stand by to jettison; good luck!" Barely had the young glider pilot acknowledged when the tow cable was released. suddenly he felt truly alone.
The Stuka rose and banked away as the glider's inertia took over and began gliding towards the earth. "Come on, Erich, get a grip; focus, focus" muttered the glider pilot between chattering teeth. Beneath him Budapest was wreathed in smoke, dust and flames. With the winter sun slowly lightening the doomed city he searched for the reference points he had memorised back in the briefing room. To his left he could clearly make out the silver ribbon of the Danube. Shouldn't that be blue he thought to himself and he hummed a few bars of Strauss' Blue Danube in a half hearted effort to raise his now flagging spirits. He had never imagined anything like this vision of Hell when he had volunteered to fly in supplies to the beleaguered garrison. He hadn't imagined glorious self sacrifice to be so frightening. But now he was committed; no way back except when the relieving forces reached the city which would be soon he and his fellow volunteers had been informed; a couple of days at the most.
He brought the nose of the glider up slightly, the weight of the ammunition he was carrying was forcing it down quicker than he had expected.
Through the smoke and dust thrown up by the explosions he could see the towering hill with it's castle on top and glancing once more towards the Danube he could see Magrit Island. He scanned to ground level with the southern part of the island and made out the area of parkland that was being used as the landing field, obvious by it's lack of buildings in the heart of the urban sprawl. He dipped the glider's nose towards the park and as he drew nearer he could see figures running around in the landing field; a welcoming committee? Then he saw the tracer criss-crossing the park and the tanks moving back and forth and the smoke and flash from their muzzle blasts.
Holy Mother of God but they are fighting on the landing zone; what shall I do? Suddenly Erich was a frightened boy; this wasn't what he had expected; it wasn't even what he wanted. He began to pray aloud, shouting his prayers aloud as if God wouldn't hear him above the din of the battle beneath the rapidly approaching glider; now scarily close to the firing.. He was level with the upper floors of the nearby houses now and suddenly his view turned 180 degrees as the glider was hit and span out of control. It struck the ground and cart wheeled before exploding amongst the combatants in the park.
Holy Mother of God but they are fighting on the landing zone; what shall I do? Suddenly Erich was a frightened boy; this wasn't what he had expected; it wasn't even what he wanted. He began to pray aloud, shouting his prayers aloud as if God wouldn't hear him above the din of the battle beneath the rapidly approaching glider; now scarily close to the firing.. He was level with the upper floors of the nearby houses now and suddenly his view turned 180 degrees as the glider was hit and span out of control. It struck the ground and cart wheeled before exploding amongst the combatants in the park.
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| A huge crater marks the spot where the glider struck. In the resultant blast the last members of my Guards squad were wiped out and a German squad had their freshly brewed pot of ersatz coffee spilled or the Panther commander dropped his acorn sausage sandwich or some other equally calamitous slight inconvenience. In actual fact the Panther took 3 pins and one of Richie's squads lost a staggering 5 guys out of 8...but didn't break. |
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| Hanging on grimly. The Waffen SS show their mettle; five of their comrades laid low by the exploding glider but the last three hang on in expectation of extra rations now there are five fewer mouths to feed. They're not daft, these boys |
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| The Assault Engineers continue to outflank the Germans; hungry for vengeance and bratwurst....well they can hope, can't they? |
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| The German light howitzer attempts to destroy the BA-64 |
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| a damned saucy looking Panther... |
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| ...that has just destroyed yet another of my tanks. The T34/85 burns furiously |
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| The Soviet MMG team take control of one of the much coveted supply bundles |
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| The SMG squad control another |
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| Finally shaking off the pins that had been holding them back, the SS squad that had been hunkered down in the garden make for the remaining supply bundle but they are too late |
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| ..as the Panther turns it's attention onto the Assault Engineers but to no effect |
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| With the Soviets holding four objectives to the German one at the end of turn 6: the Panther not being able to control an objective and no one within reach of the glider crash site, we rolled for another turn but the game ended there as we rolled low. |
And that, as they say in showbiz, was that. A really cracking game which produced a really good narrative (well I think so, but then I would, wouldn't I 😀 ) As soon as I saw the rule about the crash landing glider I knew, I just knew, it would land on my guys. It was kismet....or the Soviet equivalent.
How and ever, be that as it may, luckily in this scenario victory points don't feature so the loss of the tank, a couple of anti tank rifle teams and a squad of infantry didn't really matter (you heartless brute, General Jimbob!!). As ever , Willi Schiner and his men proved tough to beat and it took massed firepower in the one instance and massed rifle butts and bayonets on the other to take out two of his units. Naturally my T34/85 missed its chance to take out the Panther, rolling a 1 on it's damage roll and Rich's tank crew showed mine how it's done, once again.
Thanks as ever to Richie for hosting and setting up such a spiffing looking table and, of course, for being such a sporting opponent. We will be revisiting this scenario, especially as I have bought one of Sarissa Precision's DFS-230 gliders.....and Richie's Waffen SS are feeling a tad peckish and are rather tired of horse flesh. And at some point we are going to have to concoct and play a rescue mission for these guys who's Ju52 has came down in the besieged city...
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| Downed Ju52 crew....downed but not out |
So it's pip pip from me,
Toodle ooh and cheerio,
The G
