Sir Alan McGuffin and the Committee of the Hereford Golf Club (which is neither Royal nor Ancient) welcome you to the County Cup Charity Challenge and wish you a pleasant day’s play.
It’s time yet again for another VBCW Herefordshire Big Game! (The first to be held after Giles and I handed the reins to Clive and Roo.)
County luminaries from various factions have been invited to partake in the County Cup Charity Golf Challenge and, this being VBCW, have strolled onto the links with suspiciously platoon-sized caddies.
As revealed in the Big Game briefing, each player teed off on a randomly determined ‘home tee’. The objective of the game was to capture a flag (two per table) and then get one’s CO figure to a special objective in the centre of the golf course. Each player had to give up a section of infantry, but could ally themselves with another player by way of randomly drawn ‘golf buddy’ cards.
Anyone getting to this objective would then be transported with their surviving platoon members to the 18th fairway – a separate table where they would have to race other successful players to the clubhouse, deal with the ‘welcoming committee’ and claim the cup!
Eustace Spode teed off, surrounded by his supporters, including a black armoured golf buggy. My starting position was in the right-hand corner of my side of the table. This meant I only had one flank to watch, but also that I had further to go to the special objective than players who teed off in the centre.
Luckily my golf buddy turned out to be "the blessed" Lady Rita Talbot-Ponsonby (platoon pictured above), who was teeing off in the centre on my left flank. If either of us captured a flag and made it to the special objective, both platoons would find themselves at the 18th fairway. Although the ‘golf buddy’ cards were periodically swapped, by chance Rita and I found ourselves allied throughout the game, which made things a lot simpler!
The Blackshorts advanced towards the fairway, heading for a flag. Facing me was Nick and his militia, who had similar ideas. Note the circular terrain piece at the edge of the fairway. These were dotted around the tables and placing a figure on one of them triggered an event.
In the centre of our table, the special objective was guarded by His Majesty’s Constabulary. Unlike our platoons, these stalwart chaps did not have to make nerve tests if they came under fire and had to be finished off before anyone could claim the objective.
On my left was an area of special terrain, disguised as a minefield, so I sent a section of Blackshorts to investigate. Assuming some sort of reverse-psychology trickery, I was somewhat perturbed to discover that this area actually was a minefield! I rolled a 6 on a d6, which meant that the mines were all duds – phew!
My platoons continued to edge forward, taking cover in the sand bunkers and such. We had a few newbies on the table, and even us veterans were quite rusty on the rules, so the going was slow at first.
In the centre, Carl’s Colonial troops had brought along an artillery piece for those long shots and opened up on the policemen – a nice target so bunched up together…
The result was rather predictable… Still the survivors held their nerve and readied their trunchions (and firearms) as the factions approached.
Not to be outdone, Spode ordered his mortar to open up. The mortar team, taking cover in the rough and guided by their forward spotters, dropped a round on Nick (henceforth to be known as 'template guy')’s approaching veterans, knocking a few chaps over.
Alas the ‘golf buggy’ was less successful, getting bogged down on the green, no doubt giving the groundsmen palpitations. By now we were exchanging fire at a lively rate.
Clouds pass overhead as Spode surveyed the scene. The Metropolitan section was veering off to the left, the Sidcup Highlanders moving up the centre alongside the spotters and anti-tank rifle team, while the Marches section were on the right, supported by the tank.
Nick’s surviving veterans decided to investigate a strange looking area, locally known as a ‘Mommet grove’. Inside they found a crop of odd mushrooms, which they duly sampled…
What strange magic is this? Invigorated by the mushrooms, Nick’s troops were transported forward! Suddenly his entire platoon was virtually on Spode’s lap!
To make matters worse, this magical movement allowed his veteran section to rush forward and claim a flag, beating me to the punch. Luckily the flag could be captured more than once.
Undaunted, Spode urged his men forward – the British knee will not be denied! Blackshort fire caused Nick’s armoured car to falter, but in return my anti-tank rifle team was decimated.
On the other side of the table, a three-way brawl erupted as Lady Rita tussled with Steve’s militia and Neil’s Royalists (including the red-coated Zulu War Re-enactment Society) over the other flag.
Suddenly the remaining policemen in the centre were reinforced by a tank! This behemoth stubbornly refused to be destroyed or incapacitated for most of the game, despite the amount of firepower directed at it.
Nick and I continued to duke it out. My mortar team was reduced by his HMG fire and I was obliged to make up the numbers with my runners.
On the other side, the melee continued to grow as more soldiers are drawn into the brawl. With practically three platoons held up in this scrap, Carl was able to move his men forward and engage the policemen and tank, especially after drawing Nick as a ‘golf buddy’, thus securing his flank and gaining a flag in the process.
A nice overall view of proceedings. The brawl is at the top, Rita and Carl advance towards each other an the special objective in the middle whilst I attempt to outflank Nick at the bottom.
The Marches section of Blackshorts raced along the extreme right, hoping to get around Nick’s militia. However they are spotted by his HMG team, who whittled them down to half their strength.
However they pressed on to the fairway, as do the rest of the platoon, inflicting casualties against their opposite number, who was beginning to pull back a smidge.
This allowed the Sidcup Highlanders to capture a flag – huzzah! Now either Lady Rita (battling in the centre) or Spode (hurrying to the left with the Metropolitan section) had to claim the special objective before anyone else (hoping that someone will disable that damn tank first).
Meanwhile on the other green, two platoons (led by Jay and Roo) have already fulfilled their objective and have made it onto the 18th fairway…
Finally the policemen were seen off and tank was rendered inoperable! It’s a race to the objective now. Carl’s CO was lurking worryingly close, but was shot by Lady Rita’s men – hurrah! But, oh no! His second in command raced forward and got to the special objective first! Carl and ‘golf buddy’ Nick’s platoons were duly spirited off to the 18th fairway.
Lady Rita and Spode made it to the objective next, but alas the magic had faded away and they were left to trudge back to the clubhouse the long way… something about being improperly dressed or somesuch twaddle…
On the 18th fairway the race to the clubhouse was heating up. Players shot at each other as they went forward. At the clubhouse the reception committee had tooled up and were also blazing away.
Two rival sections broke away from the scrimmage. Jay’s cavalry raced Roo’s artillery limber for the clubhouse.
But as their sabres flashed it’s Roo’s miners that managed to force their way past the committee first and reach the coveted trophy! Bravo that man, well played!
And so Roo won the cup and the day was rounded off with cheers and applause.
What a fun day’s gaming! Yes, my platoon failed to make it to the final hurdle, but for a change I didn’t get decimated and managed to actually deal out some damage. Of course the most important thing was that I got to meet up with VBCW chums both old and new and have a great time overall!
The whole scenario was very imaginative and well presented – I can hand over the mantle of Big Game Organiser to Clive and Roo, safe in the knowledge that it's in very capable hands!